What can I say, except, I’m back!
Yes, yes, it’s true. The rumors were right for once. The star of the show has returned. The red carpet’s been rolled out, the paparazzi have popped up, the news columns in all the newspapers are printing stories about…. Well, ebola and election time, mainly.
But here, in my world, my pretend newspapers are talking about my return!
My return to what, you ask?
Et cetra? Is there a such thing so generic it can only be coined in etc? Yes, there is. The discombobulated euphoria I currently feel is well wrapped up in egotism and mundane examples of “what I’m back to” are boring it. My ego wants more. Attention? No, really not.
It’s been too long, my friends. The written word was a dear friend and I tossed it out the window like yesterday’s rubbish.
Well, not anymore.
I’m pulling it up and dusting it off and giving it a whirl. I missed you, my friend.
I realized I can be involved 100% in one of the most healing industries available, and still meet with extreme lack of empathy and compassion.
So the side of me that’s been whispering deep into my conscious ego’s ear that says “massage therapy is more fruitful, fulfilling, healing, serviceable, compassionate, loving, providing, fiscally appropriate thing you can do with you life” has finally been called out for its lies. Some of its other popular lies have been “writing will never help others in the way massage will, you lack soul if you choose to write over massage” blah.
What’s it take for me to finally realize the truth, and admit it to myself? Something drastic! A car wreck drastic enough? Sure! And it was.
WTF am I doing with myself?
I am sure wanting a lot. Wanting things to get better. I’m sure knowing a lot. Knowing that EVENTUALLY they will. I am sure procrastinating a lot. What?? I’m procrastinating? But working every moment I’m not working and then some doesn’t seem so procrastinating to me.
When you grow up thinking that misery is called “happiness” and putting forth over 100% of yourself into a cause you hate is being the worthy person…. I owe myself an apology, I really do.
Napoleon Hill theorized that much of who we think we are is actually conditioning we’ve received without knowing it prior to the age of fifteen. He discovered this after doing years of self work and priding himself in being a compassionate, tolerant man, and finding himself rudely dismissing a person he didn’t know simply because they wore a different religious pin than he did. He was appalled at his own behavior and spent years analyzing it, leading him to researching the nature of “nurture” and its effects on the character of men (and women). And how it’s hardly our fault to pull in negative or wrongful outlooks as kids, but it’s our responsibility as adults to let it go.
I don’t hate massage therapy. I love it. I went to school, into a nice lump of debt, built a business from the ground up, helped over 200 people, overhauled the business, turned it into a fruitful endeavor… You don’t do that with things you hate, no matter your fuel.
My favorite part is when somebody smiles after continual massage treatment, says, I didn’t think I’d know what it was like to no longer feel pain.
To be able to walk this good again.
To be able to breathe this well again.
I can hug my wife again without being in excruciating pain.
I don’t have to tell my grandchildren “grandpa’s too sick” anymore
These words, from a recently passed-away regular client of mine, spoken to me a month before his death and at his last appointment with me, will always sit with me, in my heart. “I don’t think I could have made it these past few months without you.”
So you see, I did fall in love with massage therapy. I believe in it. it’s the primary form of healthcare I use for myself and always will be.
I fell in love with helping people.
But there are so, so many ways to help people. The written word, being primary among them. I can do this.