connection
In a recent post on a massage forum, one massage therapist bravely asked, “Remind me: Why is bodywork/massage/manual therapy worth paying for again?” Reading this question, I felt emotion rise up in my chest, and tears came to my eyes. I hadn’t realized I was thinking it until I saw it typed out in front of my eyes. If what I was doing is now stopped, was it ever worthwhile to begin with?
In the movie Memoirs of a Geisha, the heroine was relocated to a kimono factory during World War II for her protection. She worked there for several years. There’s a scene where she’s working in the river, rinsing the long pieces of silk, and asks, “was I ever geisha, did I ever dance?” The abrupt change of scenery and then the grueling routine of staying in one place, seeing the same people, difficult work, and not being able to do the artistic craft that she had been doing affected her, so much that what had been her life before the war felt like a dream.
People responded to the massage therapist's question so sweetly – “because it helps people live pain-free," "empowering people to reconnect with their own body," "(helping people) focus on living life as they desire rather than being held back by dysfunction," "creating a non-judgmental, safe space for connection and healing."
This past 6 weeks have been challenging for me. When I wake up and start the day, sometimes the reality of everything comes to me and I realize it all at once. It’s a lot. Sometimes I can start the day, sometimes I have to let the tears flow for so many things – for not knowing; for people suffering; for the nurses, firefighters, police officers, bus drivers, the many brave ones out there; for the many who must work out there for their families to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads.
The topic of self-care has come up a lot. I read articles about breathing, calming, coming back to center. What is my center? Where is that exactly?? Sometimes those exercises are helpful for me, but in these times I often find that they aren’t so helpful. My mind has a red light on! Something is happening!! Alert, Alert!! Calming becomes numbing. Facebook. Netflix.
A very dear mentor once suggested that perhaps the best thing for me in these types of situations could be to connect with my senses. What does my skin feel? Wind? Coolness? My clothing brushing my skin? What can I touch? Is the fence rough? Is that pole cool to the touch? What do I see? What do I hear? This practice has helped me to come back to myself - to the best definition of center that I have. Sometimes it may take several minutes – 'yes, this does work, yes, we’re going to keep doing this until it works this time, no, we’re not going to stop,' I tell myself. Movement often helps me also – to be outside moving makes a big difference. I don’t need to be going anywhere, just going somewhere.
Exploring what we hear, Third Angle, a Portland organization that supports experimental music, came together back in March to do a Soundwalk. They turned off their phones and walked outside, noting each sound and nuance of the surroundings. Every sound can be music. And we are surrounded by music. It’s all music, whether it’s a bird, wind chimes, or a big plane landing at the airport with the roar of the engines. The train whistle. The sound of wind in the trees. Wind sounds slightly different in every tree. Hard rain falling on leaves can sound like a river.
So I thought I would share the link to the page talking about the Soundwalk - https://www.thirdangle.org/blog/2020/4/16/looking-back-3a-takes-our-first-soundwalk There is one particular track from an artist related to this Soundwalk project that I suggest you listen to. You can get to it by going here https://www.thirdangle.org/blog/2020/4/13/3as-quarantunes-mix-tape-4-soundscapes and clicking play, then you’ll be at a Spotify playlist (if you don't have an account, you can create one for free), and the song is the third one on the list - Synthesis of Neglected Places, Part 2 by Loren Chasse.
We’re not all in the same boat, but we’re all in the same storm. I’ve read that recently, and I like how that expresses the situation we’re facing. Each of our boats is as unique as we are, but we are all sailing through difficult waters. I know that many of you are offering lovely things for others – yoga, shopping help, connection, friendship. I’ve heard from many of you that those connections are helping a lot. I hope to offer one more offering to all of you with this note – another path inward to connection – with what is around us and what is within us.
Until we can all be together again.
With caring,
Tina
https://www.thirdangle.org/blog/2020/4/16/looking-back-3a-takes-our-first-soundwalk