Is there one thing out there that guarantees for you a state of total relaxation? Maybe a hot bath. An hour on a towel, sprawled out on the beach. With a good book. Maybe a cup of tea by a roaring fire (not yours! in some safe place!). A glass of wine, fly fishing, a walk in the forest? Any of those?
They all have virtues. I would sign up for any one of them if I wanted to unwind. Except for fly fishing -- never tried it. But there is one thing that stands out over and above these deliciously indulgent pursuits. I cemented my opinion on it this morning. Here's how it all played out:
I roll out of bed, I look outside: the morning is unusually drab. Total lack of color. Cold and growing colder. Farmette lands at their most somber.
Well, no matter. The day awaits. Feed the animals..
Rouse Ed for breakfast. Granola. Good enough.
And then I go to Kneaded Relief for a scheduled-long-ago, when I was feeling just a little bit more flush than I am feeling right now, massage. With my favorite person there, who knows how to combine pressure, aroma, moisture, heat -- into an hour of total bliss for me. And as I lay there letting go of every single care in the world, I thought to myself -- it's her touch that seals the deal. All the rest is trim. Her hands coaxing my muscles, tissue, nerve endings into a something that I myself cannot achieve on my own -- this is what does it for me.
I thought about human touch. The importance of it in our lives. (I know not everyone needs it and that there are some who just dont like it... I get it: we dont all have to live our lives in the same way) Ed isn't a hugger, but he is a hand holder. More importantly, we do share the couch in the evening in total physical proximity (well, he's sprawled out and I'm squeezed in, but it works!). That's the best part! And the grandkids -- still liking the snuggle (the older ones are growing out of it, but they indulge me anyway). That physical connection with another living being is sacred for me. Something happens that is powerful and good.
The day looked less dreary when I left. (I suppose the light dusting of snow helped too...)
Of course, bliss is fleeting. We aim for contentment, not exuberance or perfect tranquility. And indeed, the rest of the day was a confusion of Ed wanting to purchase a (very) used truck (to replace his broken down wreck), me wanting to bake muffins, a friend of his wanting to visit, the kids needing to be fed because Snowdrop has another Great Catherine performance tonight.
("college garb" day at school today: they have various relatives who work or have worked at this place, so they go purple)
We manage. But just barely. Someone forgot her stage shoes, another one needed to switch cars. And back home, Ed was gone picking up the new old truck, so I needed to lock up the chickens. That's normally his chore (I do mornings, he does evenings). No prob, except that the one hen who falls asleep high up on the barn wall got away from me and I had to chase her. Shush!
And indeed, every single evening going forward is... quite full. To say nothing of the daylight hours. So relaxation will have to be put on hold, replaced by excitement. But as I chop up summer tomatoes for a chili dinner tonight, I am remembering my earlier hour of utter limpness. Knowing that I am still capable of that great big exhale, of blissful idleness in mind and body is exceptionally gratifying!
with love...