 |
| Shamanic Healer Painting by Phillip Hoyle |
My lower back hurt. I awoke with the pain on the morning after Halloween. Dressing for a dinner party the previous evening, I had hurriedly selected a pair of slacks that were too tight. I tucked in my shirt to look nice, and I looked good. But I realized when I sat in Frank’s car on the way to the party, I could hardly breathe. Since the hostess was wearing her 40th Anniversary Barbie Doll dress and her husband a tux, since people who didn’t know me were in attendance, I didn’t feel free to get comfortable. Usually I would simply pull out my shirttails and unfasten my pants. But that night I sat in uncomfortable, rented chairs for way too many hours, and I paid for it when I tried to get up the next morning.
Somehow, I don’t find the above explanation quite convincing to account for the amount and persistence of my pain. It reminds me of a client who suggested his awful shoulder pain was due to sleeping on a new pillow. I do like the humor of the scene--barely being able to breathe and enduring the too-tight pants for the sake of a public image--but I suspect there was more at play. Probably the constriction of the pants and belt activated a latent, painful spot or two that had bothered me some months back. I had suffered similar back pains from giving too many hours of massage, and years ago I had hurt my back in a snowmobile accident. Whatever the cause, I did hurt.
That morning I could hardly move, but I had to get going since I was scheduled to give an early massage. A hot shower and all the movement of the massage left my back less painful and freer, but that afternoon, while drinking coffee with a friend, I felt a deep soreness settling in. The friend, a massage therapist, volunteered to work on me. His fifteen-minute massage helped, but it didn’t get rid of the pain. I asked another guy to work on it a couple of days later. The pain persisted. A third therapist worked on me two days later. He made other, related muscles hurt from his very deep work, but the back pain did not go away.
A week later I awoke thinking, “I need to work my abdomen,” but I couldn’t make myself do the work. Many arguments and several hours later, I finally lay down on the floor and worked my abdomen. I approached the area using traditional Thai massage techniques. During this self-treatment, I further realized that to get rid of my week-old pain I would need to do more work on deeper muscles that pass through the pelvic girdle. Several hours later I also talked myself into doing that work.
The massage that resulted in the release I needed so badly did not take much time, but apparently it did require a commitment to myself I haven’t yet found. I want to change myself in ways that encourage sufficient and regular self-caring. I wish I’d quit putting off work I can either do on myself or ask someone else to do for me. I would like to find the freedom to spend money and time for work that will give me pain relief and muscle releases. I want to feel vigorously healthy in my work and pain-free in my play. How else will I stay fit for the years to come? How else will I be able to encourage others to spend their time and money on massage?
I desire to find ways in which I can best live as an artist and a massage therapist: unleashing my creativity, caring for myself, loving myself in practical yet occasionally extravagant ways. In order to do so, I suspect I will need to overcome accusations of selfishness I sometimes aim at myself. I have work to do, growth to realize, and self-love to develop.
My family was not very physical. Dad played tennis but didn’t encourage us children to do the same. We played neighborhood games, but none of us became sports players or even fans. We weren’t touched much. We watched Mom and Dad touch and kiss, but we were rarely folded close into our parents’ bodies, at least not to my recollection. I watched my sisters run from my father when he threatened to kiss them and scratch them with his whiskers, but I was never touched by either him or my mother. We rarely went to the doctor. Fortunately, I was healthy and seldom ill, but these things together--our family’s reluctance to touch, independence from health care, and general good health--may have become part of my distancing from myself, my own body, my own self-care. They may hold some key to my figuring out how to give better care to myself.
My wife observed during the nearly thirty years of our marriage that I had become increasingly physical in my relations with people. I gave and sought more touch, a phenomenon that has contributed to my becoming a massage therapist. Still, I did not seek this touch from health care professionals or even hair stylists. I hated to spend money on such things. I did not provide for myself what I was happy to provide others. Luckily, I have been healthy; unfortunately, I have not learned to seek help for myself when I need it. I need it now.
As I was writing this piece, I cut my finger with a knife intended to cut an onion. I evaluated the damage. If I were not trying to make a living doing massage, I’d probably put an adhesive bandage on the place, but I really did need stitches. Here was a blatant opportunity to provide self-care. I called my friend Tony for personal support and for a ride to a family practice clinic where the wound was properly stitched. I can consider this as being practice for further dimensions of self-caring. I am thankful for my friend who drove me to the clinic. Still, I need more assistance. To whom can I pray for help in making these changes? What holy figure showed such self-care? Jesus? Mary Magdalene? Another saint? I don’t know, but I suspect I will have to pray to myself. I will have to ask my own self-neglecting hermit saint to open himself to the divine communication that will take place only when I love myself and care for myself. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment