Yesterday morning a woman with dog came running towards me with a bright excited smile. She came to a halt, gave me a hug and a compliment, and moved on. While I was wearing a smile in response to her sweetness, I was also wondering how long it has been since I got hugged, how hugs used to be common and indulged in generously and not just amongst lovers. How I even taught my Watsu students how to hug without shying away from full body contact. I remember melting in hugs with guys and gals, buddies and mentors, teachers and students, in an absolutely non-sexual, but sensual, 'taking time not just to smell the roses, but each other kinda way'.
A bit later at the gas station counter a woman entered and smiled looking at me, I smiled back. She keeps on smiling and looking? My client had recommended her for a session with me some years ago. I had held her in my arms shortly after the death of her famous musician husband. Since then she remarried and lives rather happily having survived breast cancer. Her hair is still short and very becoming. I should not be too hard on myself for not having recognized her right away.
As a body worker I have often a very different perspective on my clients and I may not remember their face, after all they may spend most of our time together facing away from me through a face craddle or else most of their body might have been submerged in water, not ideal for viewing, but perfect for mirroring of patterns and releasing and healing.. I will often remember a pattern, an issue in the tissue, and then all will come back to me in an instant. Sweet, fleeting connections startled me and lingered and made me reflect on the depth of isolation and the change of times that I live in.
A bit later at the gas station counter a woman entered and smiled looking at me, I smiled back. She keeps on smiling and looking? My client had recommended her for a session with me some years ago. I had held her in my arms shortly after the death of her famous musician husband. Since then she remarried and lives rather happily having survived breast cancer. Her hair is still short and very becoming. I should not be too hard on myself for not having recognized her right away.
As a body worker I have often a very different perspective on my clients and I may not remember their face, after all they may spend most of our time together facing away from me through a face craddle or else most of their body might have been submerged in water, not ideal for viewing, but perfect for mirroring of patterns and releasing and healing.. I will often remember a pattern, an issue in the tissue, and then all will come back to me in an instant. Sweet, fleeting connections startled me and lingered and made me reflect on the depth of isolation and the change of times that I live in.
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