Tears On The Table

There was a time in my life that I was dealing with the stresses of a legal matter and the break up of a boyfriend of four years. It was a stressor beyond what my body could handle. My back was seizing up and I was in a constant state of being on edge. I was ready to give up on everything. The therapist that I was seeing for P.T.S.D, recommended that I seek a massage therapist to relax the muscles in my body and learn to breath a bit easier. I was so stressed I would forget to breath and found myself  suddenly gasping for air.

I was living in Rhode Island and found a great massage therapist in Newport on Main street. He was a therapist by day and a singer of sea shanty’s by night. He looked just like Pippin from the movie” Lord of the Rings”. What a great therapist he was. In the beginning I felt I was a horrible client. I had such a wall up that I wasn’t allowing my body to release any of the tension. I would just lie there on the table with my eyes wide open.

My therapist took a different approach with me. He would hum and sing sea shanty’s as he worked on me with hot stones. The heat of the stones blasted right through my body, forcing me to tune in to a deeper, more emotional hurt inside of me. The singing got my mind off of all the crap I was thinking about and allowed my mind to let go. Eventually he didn’t have to sing.

I learned to close my eyes and knew I was in a safe place. However it was then that the tears would flow. Not right away but about half way through the sessions the tears would just start streaming down my cheeks. All of the stuff that I had been dealing with alone was surfacing. There were people in the sailing community pointing fingers at me and gossiping and saying that I’m no sailor. Then there were experts doing the same thing . It was their job to prove that I was incompetent. Then the boyfriend constantly reminding me that it was his boat we lived on and I would never own a boat of my own.

So I found myself in a constant state of  being under the looking glass. After a life time of being not good enough, here was another plateful of the same. I had to have a safe haven a place that I could let this stuff go. I found the place and I thank goodness for the patience of my massage therapist. He allowed me to take all of the time I needed to release stuff that wasn’t mine to hold on to any more. He reminded me that I couldn’t control what people thought, that I knew the truth and that was all that mattered.

Its odd how life turns out. I am now a massage therapist myself . When clients are on my table and they release tears and pain, I honor that moment with them. Its a sign of trust.  I will always go back to the memory of my therapist and cherish him, for what he taught me will last a lifetime.

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