I'm sure Daniel Sowelu would do a fab job of explaining the prevailing astrological and archetypal currents at play, and the good old Fontana Dictionary of Modern thought entry on Resistentialism, summarized here on Wikipedia, offers a humorous secular explanation for the seeming conspiracy of material objects to confound our lives.
So, when a car break-in incident during an otherwise wonderfully sunny happy sandcastle building session with Bryn and his playmate at our local dog beach at the beach just over a week ago (several hundred dollars worth of useless to anyone but us gear taken), on the tail of assorted other contraptions breaking down, I become totally discombobulated, bodily-speaking. Very achy and with a migraine that lasted two days, then hung around as a vague headache for a few days more.
I don't know about you, but I am someone for whom acts of nurturing self-care definitely work wonders. Being HSP, my threshold for stressors including adverse life incidents and sleep deprivation will manifest bodily, perhaps more quickly than the more robust among us, for whom such things might be mere water off a duck's back. I can do a certain amount of it myself: soothing baths, music-
making, cups of herbal tea, rest, yoga stretches, meditation to relaxing music.
As a single Mum with no Significant Other to regular attend to such needs however, it is wonderful
to let go completely and have someone nurture me platonically, make the cuppa, and soothe away the pain. There was a time in my life when I was pretty switched on to the holistic bodywork options locally. As a practitioner myself (reiki, reflexology, sond healing and other forms of bodywork), I tried many different holistic modalities. I even wrote some freelance articles for a local holistic
publication called Nova. As I phased into music, I was happy to be on the receiving end, rather than the giving end of the deal.
But I seem to be less in touch these days with what and who is out there, and the landscape has changed a great deal since I was more fully in it rather than being busy at the Ministry of Music and Motherhood. So, while I can't always immediately know who to go to, I have a pretty good idea
ofwhat I do and don't like in a massage.
Darkened rooms are the business for many HSPs, not because we are drawn moth-like and Goth-like
to The Dark Side - quite the opposite- but because retreat from the overwhelming stimulation of the outer world is, as HSP doyen Elaine N.Aron puts it, "as necessary as breathing". I also find that most of my creativity is born of inward retreat, after outward observation or stimulation. So I am a bit fussy about the location of the massage venue, having experienced some massages in places or cultures where quiet doesn't seem to be part of the equation.
The other thing is that, at the very least, I need to be in a situation with a body worker who is responsive to request (soft hard etc), and not stuck on an autopilot routine, unable to give extra
attention to the sore spots, or unaccommodating of whatever feelings may arise. Thus, sports massage seldom cuts the mustard, being a product of a limited, scientific view of 'bodies as machines'. Maybe after a vigorous game of netball, for the players, it is just the ticket. But there is not enough
acceptance of the way in which our cells and muscle tissue store more than just post-workout lactic acid, in my experience. Massage can be like an awakening: as things shift and are released, new awareness arises. We can go to places we didn't even know existed, since the door to them is invisible from the mundane world. Only when we surrender, on a table, at the hands of someone respectful and open-hearted and wise, do we visit those lands.
I phoned a couple of known and recommended holistic nurturing spots to book a massage, to find they were fully booked. It didn't quite sit right anyway, in terms of price or the niggling intuitive
feeling that neither was where I needed to be. Then I happened to remember a special being advertised at the spa alongside my gym. I made the call and am so relieved that I did.
It was perfect! I was able to go to my tai chi class there first, after dropping Bryn off, park effortlessly
out front (beats heading into Freo and dealing with a total car scrum), then head on over to the spa, which is just inside the building near the front entrance. For the price of a regular massage, I enjoyed the milk bath special. In a small, round private spa, in aforementioned quiet, dark cave of a room, I soaked away my backache for 25 minutes to relaxing music, with juice cocktails, herbal tea and water served to me on request. A sweet and capable masseuse with strong but gentle hands then ironed out the various mind-body-soul wrinkles.
I returned to the spa yesterday to have my hair done, having spotted another of their specials. After a bonus eyebrow and lip wax, I had my hair cut and coloured by another sweet woman originally from Victoria and came away feeling truly renewed.
The best bit was the head massage while she was shampooing and then again when she was rinsing
away the colour. My scalp delighted in it, and whatever vestiges of last week's headache remained disappeared down the gurgler, along with the suds. Having my hair done or my head massaged is a neat HSP strategy for dealing with travel stress, which I've used when in Bali and Thailand. I also availed myself of this little bit of pamper, last month while in Melbourne, when I had my hair cut stylishly, polished and straightened within an inch of its life, in the Vietnamese family-run salon in Victoria St Richmond. I forget quite what an effective and relaxing thing it can be, until I'm there at the basin, with someone's deft fingers working my beleagured scalp! It doesn't always have to be a full body massage- provided the water temperature is suitable. Warm water and some scalp soothing are a fine way to sink into a state of bliss and calm and to remove any ants that are dancing about up there. Of course, unless one is exceedingly wealthy, a splurge at a day spa is a first world privelege. it certainly isn't an everyday thing, but it is definitely something that needs to be factored into my life,
regardless of income, on a regular basis.
After many years, I know it to be true that healing and self- actualization don't always come from the Big Ticket approaches. Mostly, it's everyday acts of kindness to ourselves that achieve this: naps and 'time out' when we need them, enjoyable nourishing food, toothbrushing, haircuts, small treats and 'artist's dates' as Julia Cameron of The Artist's Way fame recommends. Hugs when they are needed, wanted and welcomed, solitude if we've been around people too much (for us), company if we've disappeared up our own fundamental for too long. As HSPs, it is so important to tune into our intuition regarding what we uniquely need, and then to endeavour to juggle it into our lives.
Of course, there is a place for the Big Ticket processes. I myself will be doing a six week program designed to dig a little deeper, because the time is right, and my intuition tells me now is the time to
address certain cellular memories that are proving resistant to diet and exercise, and to be impediments to deeper fulfilment of my life purpose (more on the later- I'm keeping a handwritten
journal. Meanwhile, check out Jeff Brown's work). But self-actualization isn't a thunderbolts and lightning event, in my experience. Most often, it's a process brought about by quiet acts of self-care, such as removing myself from the other world and into some sort of metaphoric cave for a time, in order to re-enter those outward spaces more depth-charged, authentic and resilient. And the greatest act of self-care is trust: to entrust ourselves to someone else's healing hands, having trusted our intuition about who to go to, to trust that whatever comes up asking to be expressed and released is just fine. In short, to trust the process of ourselves nd our lives unfolding towards somewhere better or at the very least, contentment with where they are.
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