I paid for a massage the other day. In recounting the event to countless associates who definitely couldn’t care less about me getting my body squished, I could not seem to stress enough how this really was the first time. Apparently I find it very important to not come across as a person who spends money on immaterial indulgences. Who am I kidding: a massages costs less than the bottle of wine I buy when eating fried food, and this was better for my body. While some sources may say that the goal of the massage is to relax i.e. not produce too many thoughts for its duration, I collected many thoughts and divided them into VII Chapters. If you care, you may re-collect them below:
Chapter I - The idea
She had a day off of work and felt like she needed to do something for the body. During a newly established yoga practice she said please and thank you to this vessel all the time. The vessel that pedalled her all over town, the vessel that remained awake past bedtime, the vessel that kept ingesting toxins and filtering them out of its system without complaining all too much. But some argue that actions speak louder than words, even louder than the magic word namasté, and the stretchy practice of yoga itself of course still meant the vessel had to do things and follow directions. Her body deserved a thank you not in words and not requiring any effort, something during which it could lay still and have its buttons pushed in all the right places.
Chapter II - Booking
She felt: very rich and very wasteful; A little ashamed; Mesmerized by today’s direct incorporation of any salon’s booking system into Google, which results in the same somewhat disfunctional UX as when booking a wax. Booking a wax had always seemed like treating herself but a wax was really painful and also, mind you, altering a vessel that was doing just fine. Still you can book it through Treatwell. She saw the con there now. Hardly surprised by the density of wellness centers in the area, she compared two venues that had been recommended to her. She chose the cheaper one.
Chapter III - Arrival
First thought: it smells like cigarettes here. Second thought: red leather couches and (what was once) white laminate, ugly. Third thought: you smug idiot. If you want fake black stone floors and dimmed lighting, you would pay double the price and it would not go to the staff but to a monthly subscription to waterfall playlists. Your eyes will be closed during the treatment anyway so shut the hell up.
Chapter IV - Getting comfy
She is greeted and offered a cup of tea and its very rice-y and sweet. She got there a little early and she is in the process of settling in on the red leather couch with her sweetened tea (which she accepts as part of todays theme: indulgence) as her eye finds something to read: a brochure on the Tibetan people and their country. She wonders if the sudden content feeling originates in the fact that she is about to learn something new or in the calculation that she is now settling debts that follow naturally out of her getting a Tibetan massage whilst not having thought of the Tibetan people in, just a wild guess, forever. “Reading this little brochure will not leave you informed enough to call yourself engaged or an ally” but before she can think that it would at least be a good start the woman tells her they are ready for her . She did not read a single word and she will not study the country when she gets home, despite her now telling herself she will. She does mentally give thanks to the Tibetans for heavily sweetening their tea, (probably incorrectly) assuming it to be common practice.
Chapter V - Getting undressed.
So weird to take of all your clothes in a place where the curtain does not close the entrance and the walls don’t even reach the ceiling. Notice an animalistic urge to not let guard (clothes) down and get vulnerable (naked) if the cave ain’t safe. The towel on the bed is not extremely white and also surprisingly un-stiff. Before yet another negative judgment can form itself in her head she catches it and boomerangs it into: “Nice that they don’t use bleach here”. Wearing nothing but a thong she lays down. Giggling at the feeling (and immediately, the imagined look) of her cheeks pulled back in the paper-lined sinkhole now housing her face. Quiet when the woman enters, telling herself this will be a serious experience.
Chapter VI - The massage
Not many thoughts. Just present in the vessel as the vessel. Some sentences still form in the vessel conductor (brain): “Bakers must be good a this” “I have a problem area above my right shoulder blade” “Erase problem area, add: area deserving of extra attention instead” “I shouldn’t have eaten all the onigiri…” “No actually I’m happy I ate all three onigiri at once, a full stomach helps me relax” “Good that he corrected me when I said onigiris in the past” “I hope it is not over yet” “I hope it is not over yet” “I think it may be over soon” “Oh great the legs again I’m happy it’s not over yet”
Chapter VII - Aftermath
Allowing the vessel conductor (fka brain) to come to life again, she demands it to produce visualizations of the vessel in its current state. Something soft and squished, like Barbapapa, blushy cheeks, spekkies. She steps out into rain and traffic, looking forward to a glass of pleasantly aromatic, intoxicating liquid and verbally sharing the experience with the friend who sent her here.
Leave a comment stating when you! last thanked your vessel with actions not words (this spacing is intentional)
me ha encantado 🥰 eres muy perspicaz y divertida.
estoy yendo a una osteópata, much needed for so long…
Leuk robs❤️