It’s 7 AM, and I’ve got five items on my list today. The wind has calmed down. The snow hasn’t started yet and it’s gotten colder over night. I turn the heat up five degrees. Sixty is for sleeping. I’ve turned it up to sixty-five during the day lately since I’m working at home. I say good morning to the plant and put the kettle on the stove. I should give the plant a name. I’m burning more oil and my electric bill is twice what it was when I was out of the house 12 to 16 hours a day. I’d like to get solar power and to learn more about heat pumps. I need new windows and probably a roof too. The problem with being here all the time is that you begin to notice all that’s worn out and deteriorating. When you’re on the fly, there’s not time for any of that.
Heart visualization. Imagine your heart. See it (I’m seeing it). Notice its doors (Hmm, doors?). What kind of doors do you see? (Wait. Doors?) The doors are where the love you give exits your heart and where the love you receive enters (I’m still looking). Some hearts might have great big doors - like bank vaults or meat lockers. It’s useful to visualize them in order to understand how love flows in and out of your heart (Houston, we have a problem).
I saw it immediately and plainly. It was an ornamental heart - like those Mexican painted tin hearts but rounded and three dimensional. It made me think of a Christmas tree ornament. I was viewing it from the side, but I could tell there were no doors. No openings at all in fact. What I could see was a seam. A weld going all the way around the heart. Two pieces of curved metal (each comprising half of a heart) fastened together securely creating a chamber inside. There’s nothing passing in and out of that. What’s within stays within and what’s without can’t get in. How does love move in and out?
I’ve been thinking about how to write about it all. The way the manipulation of fascia seems to be directly responsible for the thoughts and memories that arise. These points of tension, knots, adhesions in the body and what they contain. Malignant seeds. And how you can breathe light into these area of your body and breathe out all that pain and negativity. If you were saying this to me, I’d be working hard trying to conceal a skeptical frown. By the end though, my legs had been lengthened. I walked taller. My arms had a natural swing to them.
On the table, there was a springiness to my body after awhile and no more pain. Initially it was just tension and stiffness. The sensation of touch was like someone pressing hard on a bruise. I was confused after and a little disoriented. She warned me that these sessions can be significant. They stir things up and move them around. I managed to get a couple of errands run on the way back, but felt a strong need to sleep as soon as I got home.
Ease. I still grit my teeth when I hear that word spoken. But I’m really just a puppet in this case. Yes, the teeth are mine, but the gritting is being done by another. Ease, relaxation, being comfortable - these things were violently opposed and then functionally annihilated a long time ago. First it was done to me and eventually I learned to do it to myself. I can still hear the door burst open and your work boots stomping in raging strides across the floor. That’s the image that comes to mind. The symbol for anti-ease entering my body.
Keep telling me that the goal is to experience ease in my body. I need to hear a strong voice of opposition. Encourage me to functionally annihilate anti-ease. It’s not going to be easy, I’m pretty good at making the stuff by now. We’ve got a lot of work to do in 10 weeks.
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