I come in to the office hoping for what I remembered as a child, lying on a massage table and have a pair of hands float warmly over my body to then walk away with a fresher day and perkier step. However, these past few days have shaken my world to no end.
My doctor/ cleanser/ chiropractor has always been in tune with me since I began working in the restaurant below his place of residence. When I would be so far down in a depressive slump he would wander into restaurant to give me a hug. I had finally gained the courage to make an appointment with him and go into his office for work.
Wednesday was a big day for me- especially as a preparation for a day that I had awaited for about 11 months (but time is not a real factor in this case). He cleansed my back chakras which are associated with the mind as well as a person's will. Knowing what I came in for, he offered some work to be done on my front chakras, however, as the day progressed, for whatever reason, that was no longer an option. When I left his office, I held a perma-smile on my face. I had no worry or care in the world. The air was fresh, life was pleasant, and nature was pulling me to every park in Manhattan. I'm freakin' in love, man.
However, I was completely unprepared for what I experienced the next day. Considering I'm fairly new at the New Age hippie business, I didn't understand how much I have been holding onto. I felt the separation between my heavy and blockaded front half and my open and trusting(oblivious) back. Going to Central Park Thursday night was supposed to be a pleasant unifying completion. Instead it was a confusing, stressful, unsure, mess of emotions and short-sighted thought. I couldn't make a noise. I could barely dance (and that's saying something).
I missed my chance.
Then my paranoia kicked in. But it didn't bother me as much as it usually does. I just allowed the people spy on me, and talk about me (for what I say was in my mind).*
Friday. OH FRIDAY. Since it is still Friday for another 11 minutes, this reflective account may or may not be fully accurate in a matter of days. HOWEVER, the effects of the Thursday confusion had still taken hold of me. I was lost. I didn't know what to do with myself but wait for my 3:30 appointment for my front cleansing. I didn't want to listen to music. I didn't want to speak to anyone (except I called my father about a bet that I half won, half lost). I just needed to get out of my toxic living environment. 12:30- I wander.
Once I get into the office, another girl comes in along with me for my session and sits in the other room and rides my wave. I can hear her talk about what I am feeling- internally and muscularly. It was an odd compliment that is best left as is.
After an hour of uncontrollable tears, heaving, and sharp pains, I am clean now. I can breathe and feel the openness that I can't ever remember feeling before. I thought I would forget it all. All my feelings and thoughts of the recent situation. But no. They are all still there- fully intact. This is a pretty shitty rebirth. (The rebirth assumption was from my own doing. No professional has given me any reason to believe that it is a rebirth or cleansing of any sort. My words; no fact.)
After my appointment, I ate (as I always do... that shit makes me really fucking hungry) and walked around Union Square. I sat in the grass and lightly napped. I thought (as I always do), and ended up meeting a 49 year old man from Puerto Rico that will teach me to salsa. We smoked cigarettes and talked about everything going on in our lives. Then he prayed that I would fall in love with him and we would get married together and live in his house is Puerto Rico. I love homeless people. They always have the most loving, happy hearts. We have (arbitrary) plans to smoke blunts in the park on Wednesday.
After my talk in the park, I had no direction. I didn't want to go up or down, east or west. So I went home. When the 7 train became outdoors the weather had already turned horribly sour. This was the hardest I have seen it rain since a rainy season. This made me second guess my decision to go home. Was this a sign that this is the end of the visit? (I had one other destination I had considered finding, but decided there would be no point. Not only would I never find that fountain, but I would not know what to do once I got there.) Once in my home, the storm stopped. odd, aye?
But in any case, I feel much lighter and I know now that ALL progress is created, not left to be purely visualized. I have to make it all happen- everything I want.
My next appointment is Monday. Things will get curiouser and curiouser. I'm still unsure of my attendance in Philly on Tuesday.
*eating those pot oat bars slowed my heart rate to near death, but has no paranoia.
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