A RELAXING massage

I get massaged at least once a week. Before you start with your secret feelings of jealousy and envy, I ensure you that for the most part these experiences aren’t pleasant. I am poked, prodded, and dug into to the point of tears sometimes. It hurts. I don’t relax and drift off to a place filled with rainbows and singing cherubs. I am lying there oftentimes with a grimacing look on my face doing my best to reeeelax…not for my own enjoyment, but so that he is able to go deeper. Don’t get me wrong, in a twisted way I look forward to these somewhat tortuous sessions. Pain can be a good and welcomed thing. It means that the knot in your hamstring you feel every time you push off is hopefully getting smaller. It means that tight hip flexor might not be as much of a problem if you can loosen it up. When you beat your body up on a daily basis and it constantly reminds you of its unhappiness with you, the least you can give it is some work to try and keep the train going.

But that’s not to say that sometimes I don’t wish that I got to see rainbows. And hear cherubs. I like to be pampered just as much as anyone else. I’d love to have someone’s hands on me with the intent of making me feel great. So imagine my glee when I was informed that I would have the opportunity to experience that this weekend. I can count on a handful of times I’ve had a massage simply for the pleasure of it and I continue to be like a kid in a candy store. I NEVER pick the deep tissue option. It’s the same reason I almost never order a plain chicken breast at a restaurant. I’m looking for something different!

So Saturday afternoon I lay outside in a covered garden at a beautiful spa and told my masseuse that the pressure was just fine. I closed my eyes and marveled at the time spent massaging scalp. For goodness sakes, there isn’t even a muscle in my scalp! Pure bliss. The soothing sounds of a waterfall and the melodic sounds coming from hidden speakers sure did sound an awful lot like cherubs to me.