Keeping In Touch

Oh give it to me, give it to me
I don't want to know much about much
Give it to me, give it to me
I need, I need, I need the human touch

~~Elvis Costello, "Human Touch" from the album, Get Happy.

You'd think a massage therapist would never take for granted the power of human touch but you know, sometimes I do. Sometimes I get so caught up in the day to day demands of heading a household and housing and holding all those dreamy heads I lose my place at the table.

Massage therapists will often claim they're not healers, they are merely vessels for healing. The downside to this belief is that in order to let that big of a love to flow through one's body she must, to a degree, get out of her own way. This dichotomy of receiving and re-gifting while simultaneously being accountable for the transfusion of touch is a tricky thing. When you get it right, when every moment feels like a dance between you and the gods and one of their precious children, it's better than any dopamine-induced trip you'll ever take.

But like most highs, in order to reach nirvana you sometimes take leave of your own body. And occasionally, you forget to come back. For me, all it takes is a tender reach, a simple hand on my back or a squeezed shoulder to send me keening toward home--that place within my body where the marriage of cell and soul feels complete. Somewhere inside these moments I remember why I do what I do,  why I need the same thing in order to continue doing it, and why, if I'm starved for touch, I simply cannot give to others from an empty well.

On my 48th birthday a dear friend offered to help me with a staggering list of neglected chores around my house and yard. We replanted shrubs, worked on the bike shed I'm building, took down old rotted shutters, patched stucco, and lastly, re-lit the pilot on my tenant's space heater. As we lay splayed out on the apartment floor--me with the lighter and M with the flashlight-- he looked at me and said, "Happy Birthday." I mumbled a thanks and continued to fumble with the knob. He rested his hand on my arm and said again, "Happy Birthday, Ellie," and this time I heard him.

Later that afternoon M rubbed my feet while we caught up on our lives, and I felt myself gradually return to the physical container that supports this delicious life. After dinner he massaged me for what I guess was probably hours, but time lost any linear quality as soon as I surrendered to the receiving end of tenderness, knowing there were no expectations, no strings, no need for reciprocity. According to M I fell asleep audibly purring.

In the days that followed, I felt strangely awkward on my feet, as if I were breaking in new shoes. Eventually I recognized that newness as a much-needed reunion with my touch-starved body. In an effort to sustain that feeling of wholeness, I immediately booked a massage for the following Friday with my current assistant, D. Next week I have another massage scheduled with a new gal I'm contemplating hiring for the day spa we're opening in Avila.

Today when the phone rings and I once again find myself standing at the head of my massage table, I will be steady on these bare feet, my hands will carry the memory of recent touch, and I'll be able to reach deeply into a well now overflowing with gratitude and good intentions. With one hand cradling her heavy head, one slipping beneath the sheet to cup her weary sacrum, the dance will begin again. One, two, three, breathe, one, two, three, breathe, one, two, three...

This post is dedicated to M, for the Best. Birthday. Ever. Thank you for mapping the way back home with your strong yet gentle hands. I really, really, needed that.

Comments

[Jill Doyle]

a friend turned me on to your blog a while back - i love your writing and your wit and your spirit. yesterday i saw you at new frontiers buying soda, and you are lookin' HOT for 48! next time i see you i'll introduce myself.
happy birthday, hope it's your best year yet!

[ellie]

Gosh I hope you weren't the woman I rammed with my armload of Hane's Soda! I hate grocery carts so I always overload the arm-basket and end up with more than I should carry.

Thanks for the compliment. It was HOT yesterday--hence the braless hippie look. Menopause plus 80 degree weather = goodbye foundation garments. Another reason I love California.

And yes, do introduce yourself next time. I'm in the process of trying to rebuild a solid core of female friendships after several of my tribe have migrated to other parts of the planet.

Thanks for stopping by!

[Fran aka Redondowriter]

You are one glorious 48, Ellie. It's hard to believe you are a grandma, much less a mom with a 17-year-old son. One of the downsides of getting older, like I am or older, when you don't have a partner, is the starvation for touch. I was just thinking I might get a massage myself.

[Zoe]

Ellie,

On Monday, I said to my massage therapist that I was almost embarrassed that I have needed her services for so many years.

She told me she doesn't think of it like that at all. She said she thought it was great that I continue to do everything I can to improve &/or manage my health & how great it is that I don't give up. She sees it as a great thing & that I'm finally nurturing myself.

She is an angel & often I feel the therapy derived from it not only physically but also psychologically is beyond measure. I get great insight into where I am at emotionally & that can only be a positive thing.

When I first started with her my "trust" was broken & it wasn't easy to allow her to touch me. Now all these years later I am amazed at what I allow her to do. She's helped fix my trust button. :)

Sometimes we care givers (I was a nurse & reflexologist) get exhausted meeting other people's needs & neglect our own inner messages. I use to do my massage therapists feet before she did my massage! It was a great trade. Thing is, eventually my tiny wrists couldn't take it anymore & I had to stop doing her feet. But think of it, if all massage therapists could have their feet done prior to giving massages. What a great way to ground oneself!

Take care of you.

[ellie]

Fran, sometimes you can be in a relationship and still be touch-starved. I know that if I open myself to a future partner, touch will be right up there with a sense of humor, playfulness, and compassion in the true sense of the word.

[ellie]

Thanks for sharing, Zoe. I think there is something really special about washing/massaging feet. It humbles both the giver and the receiver.

[Ann]

Happy Birhday a little late. I haven't been here in a very looong time. My life just got busy & I didn't keep up. I was checking bookmarks & I came across you again. I have missed you. You paint such a beautiful picure with your words. They have been & are balm for my soul. Thank you.

[Cara Fletcher]

For me the massage therapy is the best thing ever invented.I love the day in the week when I go for a massage.This is the time I cherish very much.