I emerge once again from the session taller, upright, closer to my intended alignment. Something in the left leg this time. An adhesion. It's interesting the way it plays out. She locates it. I feel it (and try to keep my self from leaping off the table). She tells me to breathe into it. Somehow I manage to do that. Try it. Breathe into your leg. My mind reacts as though the injury and the pain around it is a given. Accept it, stop touching it, ignore it, and just stumble forward. She is working on it while I'm trying to remain unclenched and breathing. And then whatever it is somehow releases and is gone. Your leg is now longer and so is your stride. What was immobile a moment ago now has spring in it.
I get home with plans for the rest of the day and fall immediately into a deep sleep for about three hours. Your history is being rearranged, I think.
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