Massage or Torture?


If this is massage therapy, I’m a can of tomatoes.
Like any other modern day baby boomer, I’m a lover of massage therapy. I’ve come to appreciate a deep tissue pressure that will soothe my jangled nerves without registering a single bruise to my, um, baby soft skin.
This was not the case.
The guy was smooth, strong (too strong) and obviously hadn’t completed his zen preparations that morning. Perhaps I should have told him that I would support the political rebels in his country. Perhaps it was his way of slowly but surely punishing all Americans, one client at a time. Perhaps he had a rough childhood. I apologized for my existence. I pled for my life. I still came away mangled. Continue reading

A Powerful Meditation


Something different. I have used meditation to survive daily stresses but for many years I  have had some profound experiences with it. This is one of those experiences:

Indian Summer – 11/20/2000

 Surrounded by six elderly Native American women, I am in the middle, nestled, safe and protected by two powerful elements – age and wisdom, yet no one speaks, there is no need, we just drift in silence. Staring beyond the many miles of wrinkles, sun browned skin and snowy white hair, a tunnel of trees brush by us as our canoe is expertly guided downstream. The sun is behind clouds and we are all wrapped in faded wool blankets. It must be early in the morning but I am not told why I am here or where I am going. The trees still have leaves but I can see my breath and my cheeks feel the cold air. Continue reading