50 Minute Time Out

Age 36 was when I had my first massage. All of the stress that I had been feeling for a long time got to such a point that my husband insisted I go. Handing over our infant, I went somewhat hesitantly to let some stranger see me naked after somewhat recent childbirth. I must have been exhausted to do that willingly.

And to be honest, that time was absolutely wonderful. The dark lights, music that sounds like the happy version of Lord of the Rings, and a long massage was a gift I didn’t even know I needed.

Ten minutes after I got home? It was like it never happened.

Life happens. The knots came back. The weight of the world back on my shoulders.

Massages to me were an indulgence. They were something that if you had extra money, you could get one and the experience would make you feel like a new person. I decided in my forties that if I went often enough, it would be like an investment and actually work for longer periods of time.

It turns out I don’t end up going as often as I like but when I do, it is my 50 minute time out. All the stress may come back to me after, but for 50 minutes my mind…and muscles can just relax.

When I walk in to my appointment, a person immediately offers me water and proceeds to try and get me to add on different things to my massage. Anything to up the charge I guess. Most of them I don’t really get.

Aromatherapy?

If it’s not the smell of chocolate chip cookies, I am not interested.

Hot stones?

Sounds like medieval torture.

Himalayan salts?

I will just stick to the salt on my margarita glass, thank you.

Eventually, I am led in by my masseuse who has all sorts of questions about pressure and what I am looking for then leaves me to undress.

During the massage, I am told that I need a deeper tissue massage to get my knots out. After a few minutes,  she wants to know if I am doing stretches. I had forgotten she gave me homework the last time of doing daily stretches to help my neck and shoulders. It’s like I am in school all over again. Nope. I didn’t do the stretches. Sadly, I pay for it and she tries to knead it all out.

Eventually the magic happens where I just let go of all the thoughts in my head…

Each time I get to this point, I realize how I value this time. Just a time out so I can not think about the daily pressures and things that have to get done. Can’t we all use that every so often? I am noticing that many of us think we don’t always deserve it or that whatever can help us is possible. All I can say is be good to yourself. You will be thankful.

When my time is up (it always goes too fast), I am escorted out with a glass of water and once again told how to do the stretches. We both smile knowing I won’t be following up on that one but I do book the deep tissue massage with some extra time out minutes added in.

After all, it is ultimately for my health. Right?

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