☕ Here I am, drinking coffee and reading words of wisdom and reeling in just a bit… I found out some harsh truths over the weekend and yesterday… It is what it is… I’m gonna let that go.. and take it as a learning experience.
I’m gonna focus, instead, on what I can change and can control- my own body and my own decisions. Like this study I’m doing… The body is an incredible thing and I am finding out what I’m capable of-even surprising myself, but it doesn’t seem like I’m surprising Phu Lam at all.. He seems to know me better than I know myself. I decided to try one more chiropractor and with Marcus Edward Tamez , I can feel the difference already after only two sessions with him.
I’m washing my face, and washing my hands off to get rid of the dirt of doubt, the grime of disappoinment and I’m pulling on my boots and walking straight into my best life. “Paul’s words in Philippians are so powerful because they came from his own, painful experience. How could he change his perspective? How could he find hope when all seemed hopeless? He found a new perspective in Christ and found incredible strength to face his challenges. You can find the same.
If you’re seeking change you shouldn’t just want that for yourself, you should need it. You need to set a goal for yourself and then work your butt off to get there. I don’t care if that goal is to pay off your credit card or lose ten pounds or run an Iron Man. You need to make a move right now while you’re still on fire from this book about what goal you’re setting for yourself. Then you need to go do it. . . .
You, exhausted mother of three who’s considering heading back to work but afraid she’s been out of the loop too long. You, fifty pounds overweight and conscious that your health is in jeopardy if you don’t make drastic change. You, in your early twenties who wants love but gives away your body in order to feel the connection and instead only feels emptier. You, who wants better relationships with the people you love but can’t let go of your anger in order to get there. You, all of you, any of you. . . . Be honest about who you are and what you need to do to make a change.
Girl, get ahold of your life. Stop medicating, stop hiding out, stop being afraid, stop giving away pieces of yourself, stop saying you can’t do it. Stop the negative self-talk, stop abusing your body, stop putting it off for tomorrow or Monday or next year. ☕☕♥️Stop crying about what happened and take control of what happens next.💙 Get up, right now. Rise up from where you’ve been, scrub away the tears and the pain of yesterday, and start again . . . Girl, wash your face!”
My friend, Anna Baker, had this on her wall .. and , as I read this, my heart knew I needed to share his story and tell parts of my own Mema story.
The day before my beloved Mema went to glory, she ordered -yes, ORDERED-me to go to Minyards and get groceries. I told her, ‘Momma, don’t you DARE die while I’m gone.” and she promised me she wouldn’t. Like this guy in the story, I was in tears buying what I knew she wanted-cabbage, peppers, onions, dry beans and bacon,
I tried my best to avoid eye contact with anyone so I wouldn’t be engaged in talking and I rushed back to her house and started cooking.
The aroma of pinto beans, meatloaf, cabbage and cornbread filled the house as I wiped tears from my eyes and struggled to do what I had been raised to do.
” People are going to come to say ‘goodby’ to me, they gotta have food to eat.”
” Yes, Mema, I’ll make sure there is plenty of food to eat. “
Part of my heart was breaking and the other part was going through the motions.. doing what I knew she wanted. ” You did good, Jeanna’, the house smells good.. people can come now. “
Whatever else life has bought me, I remember her squeezing my hand and telling me that I had done good.
I’m a toucher just like her.. it is apparent to anyone that sees me, even complete strangers.. and I’ve been known to “pull a Mema” and reach out and hug someone, brush tears away, grasp the hands of a person because I can sense they are longing for a touch that says ‘you are good.. you are seen.. you matter”
When you’re out and about, be open and willing to look at the people near you, they just might be in your presence for a good reason-either to give or to recieve.
Be like my Mema… Feel with both hands!
“
“The day my father died, I was at the grocery store buying bananas.
I remember thinking to myself, “This is insane. Your dad just died. Why the hell are you buying bananas?”
But we needed bananas. We’d be waking up for breakfast tomorrow morning, and there wouldn’t be any bananas—so there I was.
And lots of other stuff still needed doing too, so over the coming days I would navigate parking lots, wait in restaurant lines, and sit on park benches; pushing back tears, fighting to stay upright, and in general always being seconds from a total, blubbering, room-clearing freak out.
I wanted to wear a sign that said: I JUST LOST MY DAD. PLEASE GO EASY.
Unless anyone passing by looked deeply into my bloodshot eyes or noticed the occasional break in my voice and thought enough to ask, it’s not like they’d have known what’s happening inside me or around me. They wouldn’t have had any idea of the gaping sinkhole that had just opened up and swallowed the normal life of the guy next to them in the produce section.
And while I didn’t want to physically wear my actual circumstances on my chest, it probably would have caused people around me to give me space or speak softer or move more carefully—and it might have made the impossible, almost bearable.
Everyone around you; the people you share the grocery store line with, pass in traffic, sit next to at work, encounter on social media, and see across the kitchen table—they’re all experiencing the collateral damage of living. They are all grieving someone, missing someone, worried about someone. Their marriages are crumbling or their mortgage payment is late or they’re waiting on their child’s test results, or they’re getting bananas five years after a death and still pushing back tears because the loss feels as real as it did that first day.
Every single human being you pass by today is fighting to find peace and to push back fear; to get through their daily tasks without breaking down in front of the bananas or in the carpool line or at the post office.
Maybe they aren’t mourning the sudden, tragic passing of a parent, but wounded, exhausted, pain-ravaged people are everywhere, everyday stumbling all around us—and yet most of the time we’re fairly oblivious to them:
Parents whose children are terminally ill. Couples in the middle of divorce. People grieving loss of loved ones and relationships. Kids being bullied at school. Teenagers who want to end their lives. People marking the anniversary of a death. Parents worried about their depressed teenager. Spouses whose partners are deployed in combat. Families with no idea how to keep the lights on. Single parents with little help and little sleep.
Everyone is grieving and worried and fearful, and yet none of them wear the signs, none of them have labels, and none of them come with written warnings reading, I’M STRUGGLING. BE NICE TO ME.
And since they don’t, it’s up to you and me to look more closely and more deeply at everyone around us: at work or at the gas station or in the produce section, and to never assume they aren’t all just hanging by a thread. Because most people are hanging by a thread—and our simple kindness can be that thread.
We need to remind ourselves just how hard the hidden stories around us might be, and to approach each person as a delicate, breakable, invaluable treasure—and to handle them with care.
As you make your way through the world today, people won’t be wearing signs to announce their mourning or to alert you to the attrition or to broadcast how terrified they are—but if you look with the right eyes, you’ll see the signs.
“Don’t focus on what you only have left because it could be one more minute or 50 more years.”
I was messaging with my friend and colleague, Helen Patterson, about getting together soon and then we shared a little about what was happening in our lives and our businesses.
I told her that I thought one of her friends, Rachelle, was being very brave in her recent posts and podcasts.
Helen told me that Rachelle had struggled but had made amazing progress and had chosen to share her story so other women could get it.
In just over a month, I’ll be celebrating another birthday, and, every now and then, it hits me hard.
“Can I really be that old?!”
“Where did the time go?”
“Do I have another 30,40,50 good years in me?”
“Am I strong enough, pretty enough, good enough?”
“Am I aging gracefully?”
“How can I FEEL like I’m only 34 but be twenty years older?”
“I am just getting started, do I have time to do everything I want to do?”
Those are the things that go through my mind when I’m training or doing a massage or writing out my hopes and plans.
These are the thoughts that tumble around when I’m standing in front of the mirror looking at my body, and catching glimpses of my soul in my eyes.
Helen’s words hit me straight in my heart-simple, direct, profound.
“Don’t focus on what you only have left because it could be one more minute or 50 more years.”
Damn straight.
This past year, every since Covid came roaring like a dragon, scaring us into taking Shelter In Place and having mandates for masks and social distancing, people have chosen to live with such precautions, limitations and fear.
They have stopped seeing family members, stopped celebrating holidays, stopped getting together for birthdays and Sunday dinners.
I get it. I really do. They are afraid they will get Covid.
But, here’s the thing…..I did, too, in the beginning. I stayed home, did Shelter In Place. Took off my clothes in the garage if I went anywhere, santized my house and my hands and my car over and over.
We didn’t celebrate last Easter… no baskets, no gifts, no Easter dresses, no family dinner. It was heartbreaking.
We did it because that’s what we were told to do and expected to do.
Then it hit me- really hit hard.
What I was doing-what we were all doing- was taking away precious time, giving away chances, missing opportunities, losing out.
In an attempt to prolong our lives, we gave up what made life worth living.
I know people that stopped seeing their children and grandchildren because they were afraid of Covid.
Others haven’t left their home because the ones that love them are so afraid that they will lose them.
It’s became a game of chance, of control, of hedging the bets, of making deals with God.
“I’ll stay away from everyone…. But you better add another year to my life now that I’ve given up this year.”
“I am doing all this…. so I better not get sick from Covid or anything else.”
“Here’s the deal, I’m going to follow all these rules, do everything by the book… and then I’ll be safe, right?”
Maybe so…but, I can’t help but think of it this way.
Only God knows the number of our days.
People still die from heart attacks, in car accidents, in senseless tragedies. People lose their battles with cancer, with mental illness, with other congestive, chronic sickness.
All we have is this minute…. and maybe another fifty years.
Like my friend, Helen, said, “Don’t focus on what you only have left because it could be one more minute or 50 more years”
I think that’s what’s happening, though. People have been focusing so hard on to stay here and not to be left or to leave that they have not lived!
I stopped doing that way back in May when I reopened the doors to my massage studio, Rockwall Body and Soul Massage.
I practice universal safety and sanitize procedures, but I touch people. There’s no social distancing in massage and that’s one of the beautiful things about it.
I don’t wear a mask. I have to read lips so people that come to see me express such a sense of relief when I tell them they can remove their masks.
I’ve spent so much precious time with my children, and my girls and my bundles.
I’ve been busy creating memories, making damn sure they feel loved and wanted and needed.
I’ve kissed and cuddled, shook hands and embraced. I’ve wiped tears and stroked faces.
I’ve gone to breakfast, to lunch and to dinner.. I’ve met friends for drinks at the bar, sat outside on patios sipping margaritas and listening to music.
I’ve gone dancing and I danced with anyone that asked.
I go to the gym almost every single day. I meet with my trainer, Phu, and we hold hands constantly. He places his hands on my body, I hold his legs when he stretches me. We have a comfortable intimacy. I know he’ll catch me when I stumble and he knows when to let me do my own thing.
My focus is on living every single minute of my life to the fullest.
I don’t know and neither does anyone else if I only have this minute or if I’ll have fifty more years.
I do know this much for sure.
I will not bide my time, waiting for something to be done with, or to run it’s course.
That’s not what my focus is going to be about.
I’ll do everything in my power to stay healthy and to keep my family, my friends and my clients healthy, too.
Those are the things that I can control, but life… whether it’s one more minute or fifty more years, like I hope for, is going to be spent living every single second of it!
I don’t want to have any regrets… no second guessing.. no missed kisses… no holding back.
I am planning on meeting my friend, Helen, soon. I am planning on drinking that bottle of wine that James gave me with him. I’m celebrating Easter this year with my family and for my birthday, in just over a month, I’m going to savor every single bite of that chocolate sheet cake and love on everybody that comes near me.
Just like my wise and wonderful friend, Helen, told me to do.
Helen and Jeanna’… In 2019. We will get another picture very soon.
👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead
8 14 a.m. April 3 2021
I have to add to this… On August 3,2021. I got Covid after going into quarantine on July 26 ..
Covid hit me hard with migraines, fatigue, and coughing .. But the worst part was when it hit my left leg and I couldn’t walk.. from a woman that danced, worked out, and massaged with legs and feet.. Suddenly I couldn’t even walk to the bathroom or stand up without shooting pains from my knee …
I went to the doctor on August 13 and recieved my first steroid shot, and 3 prescriptions for antibiotics, inflammation, and pain.
I couldn’t do much of anything but be still.. which was exactly what I needed to be.. I recieved instead of gave
My daughter had me stay with her., I slept in her bed feeling her hand soothing me when I coughed, feeling her love when she bought me food and water over and over.
I felt the strength of my sons.. the boys I used to carry now carried me. The boys I used to feed, now cooked me meals, bought me coffee, made me brownies and grilled cheese sandwiches.
My husband came home from driving to spend a week with me. He made me laugh through the tears, he picked me up and carried me up the stairs to our daughter’s house, to the pool party, and from our living room to the bed.
Instead of being ashamed of me, he made me feel beautiful and desirable and special.. As if the walker was just a new toy instead of a cumbersome means of getting around. Greg placed me on the seat and ran with me, and we both laughed so hard, even when it tipped over and I tumbled out!
Greg had to take off driving again and he wrapped me in his arms, prayed for me, kissed me and made me promise to heal so I can dance with him when he came home.
My friends stopped by with food and vitamins, my brother and sister-in-law bought dinner and food for a week. One friend came to my daughter’s when I was I was so weak and sick and started giving me magnetic massages which she keeps giving am over and over.
I felt love coming from so many directions. Texts and messages boosted my spirits and reminded me of what really mattered-all the people I love and that love me back in different ways.
In the silence, I started reading again.. finding my faith and my relationship with God… I had put Him on the back burner.. using bad experiences with churches and religion as my crutch.
He who knows me best, let me come to Him on my terms, slowly and tenderly, much like the steps I was taking.
He used the words of friends to reach inside the walls I had built, and He used the songs of my childhood to bring me to my knees and up where I wanted to be.
He made sure I had the books I needed, the scriptures that fit perfectly with the situation I was in and He let me stumble and fall and get frustrated and riled up.. while He waited.
God was still… because He knew that I needed this time to reflect and ponder and then to pull close when my soul was ready.
Here I am .. on this Covid journey … It’s October 1 now… I stopped seeing clients on July 26… But God has provided my place with great therapists and great clients that have been gracious and understanding.
I’ve started to walk again-holding onto Phu”s hands during training, holding the walls sometimes, and holding on to my son.
I told my doctor that I wouldn’t wish anyone this Covid but I’m glad I’m on this journey… She looked surprised and I said, “If I hadn’t been on this journey, I wouldn’t have been still, I wouldn’t have listened and I wouldn’t have recieved. I needed to do all of that.”
There’s a reason for everything, a season for everything, a time to plant and a time to bloom, a time to weep and a time to dance.
It was my time to be still and soon I’ll be dancing again.
Yesterday another doctor told me that the steroids that helped me battle Covid caused cataracts in my eyes. I cried for about a minute when my son, Hunter, picked me up and then, I pulled on my boots and said, “get me some chocolate and l will be just fine!.”.
You see, God is already there… working on the details.. His eyes are on me and I don’t have to worry… I can see that He’s got plans up His sleeve for me and it’s gonna be amazing!
He’s given me the courage and the strength along this journey and I’m not afraid… I’m living the life He’s given me right now!
‘I am not in search of sanctity, sacredness, or purity. These things are found after this life, not in this life.”
There was a time in my life when I struggled to be more like the other women I knew- pure, sacred, quiet and modest… In appearance, in action, in spirit.,
I wasn’t .. I just wasn’t.. and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t be.
I felt like a fraud when I got dressed and went to take my place with them, wondering what to say, what not to say, how to appear as if I knew what they were talking about.
I didn’t belong, and I really didn’t want to belong but I felt like I should because it was ‘expected” of me.
But that was years and years ago when I was in my early twenties, still figuring out who I was and what I was created for.
“but in this life. I search to be completely human To feel. To give To take.”
These lines… It’s what I’ve chosen to do… to be so completely human… To give myself permission to give and to take. Give an embrace. Take time to be alone. Give a knowing look and take the hand offered to me. Give a gift to someone. Recieve a gift without feeling any thing but gratitude, and certainly not obligation. Give forgiveness and take it when offered back. Give myself a second chance and take the opportunities that come my way. Give an amazing massage and take the massage that’s been offered to me, without second guessing and attempting to control the session. Give and recieve, just like I’ve always believed was important.
“To laugh.”
Oh, to laugh just to laugh and to hear the sound of others laughing.
This last year I’ve found myself craving laughter so much, from the squeal of a toddler, the rambunctious laugh of carefree kids, the chuckle shared between friends. All of it. The pure pleasure of laughter …
There’s a guy that comes to get massages from me and, over the years, we’ve developed a friendship. He’s got one of those great laughs that I’m so grateful I can hear. When he comes, we always laugh and it makes me feel connected and good. His laugh is almost like an embrace, it wraps around and fills the space. It’s a simple thing, but it’s an important thing to me and I look forward to every time I see him and hear that laugh.
“To get lost and to be found.”
I’m notorious for getting lost, even in the small town I have lived in for the last twenty years. I can turn down a road that I think I know and wind up driving around in circles, until finally I find my way to familiar ground again.
Sometimes that really does drive me crazy and others as well, but the truth is… Most of the time,I really enjoy just wandering around, looking at things that I haven’t seen before..
I’ve learned to let go of things that I’ve “lost” and accept that if they’re meant for me, it will be found again.
It’s the same with relationships and friendships . Sometimes we lose touch, only to find the connection again when the timing is right.
That’s what being a human and a treasure hunter is about to me.
I can find a treasure in someone’s “trash” and I can turn a “lost cause” into a beautiful thing.
There’s been times when I’ve stood on the ragged edge perched between losing control and finding strength, and I’ve always found my balance right when it mattered
I’ve lost some “friends” over things that shouldn’t have caused the demise but I’ve also found some friends that others would have never been able to understand.
I’ve lost the need to explain who I am and what I believe to anyone that isn’t a part of my circle and I’ve found that sometimes shooting straight is incredibly freeing.
I’ve lost track of time during a massage, finding out that I’ve given more than the clients expected but this has been one of the things others have found to set my place apart.
I’ve also lost track of time while folding sheets, planting flowers, and visiting with friends
I’ve found excuses to keep from going where I didn’t feel like I belonged until I realized that I should always trust my instincts on things like that.
During this pandemic created by Covid, I’ve also lost some clients that have felt I was being “dangerous” in my approach to the situation.
I’ve accepted that without any feeling any real need to justify or explain my stance.
I do, however, feel that every person that’s left my practice for this reason will be filled by someone else that wil align with me better.
Lost…. and found.
Lost and found
I want to do more of both and be more of both
To dance”
Please. If you know anything at all about me… You’ll know I dance..
I dance alone while brushing my teeth in the bathroom sink. I dance in the kitchen while getting snacks at midnight. I dance in my car while driving. I dance in the aisle at the grocery store and I dance while walking in the parking lot.
When a great song came on at my gym, I dropped my tire and went over to the wood floor and started salsa dancing my heart out
I never turn down anyone that asks me to dance.. I will dance with old men and young boys, with fancy ladies and teenage girls, with nervous beginners and those that have danced professionally.
I don’t care what songs are playing.. I just want to dance… again and again.
I dance when I’m massaging my clients… especially when it’s Ashiatsu. I dance when I’m stressed out and when I’m happy. I dance when nobody is looking and when it feels like all eyes are on me
“To love and to lust.”
Both are good and beautiful
To love intentionally and expectantly means to be open and honest with your feelings. To be intimate with your soul and your body. To love in words and in action. In such a way that gives so much, recieves so much and creates so much
We can love different people in different ways. Love isn’t limited. It doesn’t have a beginning and an end. It is infinite.
I’ve always wondered why so many people love like a prison. They limit who they love and set limits on the people that love them.
I don’t understand it .. I think it’s rooted in fear. Fear that there won’t be “enough” love to go around, fear that they will lose out, fear that they aren’t enough, fear that there’s too much.
Each child I’ve had, I’ve found my love multiples. It isn’t divided.. it only grows deeper and richer
Each person I love, makes me love the others more. I often think that’s how God wants us to be… Loved and known, as well as loving and knowing
It’s also important to lust.. to desire.. to feel alive.. connect with another on a deep level..
Lust is defined as a “sexual and sensual attraction” and I agree-somewhat-but I also think that lust means to crave and long for other things.
I lust for a better body so I workout hard … I lust for great relationships so I put in the effort, I lust for beauty and grace, so I plant flowers and listen to music and read words that fill my soul.
After all, I am not in search of anything except to be completely human all the days of my life.
It was late, again And although she only had 7 miles to go She knew herself well enough To know those were the most dangerous miles of all
So she poured a cup of coffee Black as it could be Threw her pink bag into the backseat Switched on Spotify To find some kick-ass songs To get her all the way home
She knew it was crazy But she did it anyway Rubbed a little red lipstick on Just to drive home alone
Those were the kind of things That made all the difference In a world gone half crazy
Times were tough But she was tougher Days were long But she wouldn’t give up
This was real life And she was going to fight
Fight to keep doors open Fight to do what she loves Fight to keep on providing All the things she’s known for
Like red lipstick and good tequila Presents for no particular reason Cowboy boots and silky lace Burgers and drinks
All those things that cost money That she used to do without second guessing
Wondering if people will keep on coming Finding the place
On the ragged edge Between what others believe What they know What makes sense and what don’t
She had no way of knowing But this was her way of living
Red lipstick and coffee Real loud music Driving down the backroads
At 3 32 in the afternoon, I laid my phone on my massage table and went into the tiny toliet closer in my massage room.
I was expecting a client at 345, so I was doing what I always did- using the restroom, washing my hands, preparing for the massage.
I unbuttoned my jeans, sat on the toilet and pulled the door shut.
After doing my business, I stood up, zipped and buttoned my jeans, buckled my belt and then reached for the knob.
It turned, over and over, and wouldn’t open. The bolt was stuck and not turning with the knob.
I reached above me on the top of the door and grabbed the skelton key although I knew in my heart that this wasn’t the issue.
The skelton key turned easily but the door still wouldn’t open.
I lost it. I begin screaming and kicking the door with my cowboy boots, banging my fists over and over on the solid oak door with no avail.
I was so scared. Trembling with panic and fear, I kept turning the knob, pushing against the door, screaming as loud as I could.
It felt like forever. It WAS forever to me.
Then I hear something…. I scream, “Help me, help me, help me!”
I couldn’t hear what was being said or done, and I continued screaming and kicking the door.
Seconds later, I hear another key trying to open the door. I scream that it’s not the skelton part but the knob instead.
Laura pulled and pulled and finally got the door opened. I ran from the toliet closet across the room and fell on the floor against the wall, crying hysterically.
Laura’s instincts had saved me.
When I had stepped into my toliet closet, Laura had began talking to a new client and going over what he wanted for his massage.
Then Laura had done what we always do.
She went into the hall bathroom. She did her business and washed her hands. She also felt vibrations that weren’t usual.
That was the vibrations of my boots against the wood floors and the door.
She walked down to the waiting area right outside my door and asked the man waiting if he had seen me.
He replied that he hadn’t and that he was there for his 345 appointment but that I hadn’t came to get him yet.
Laura knew then that something wasn’t right.
She opened the door to my room and noticed my phone on the massage table.
She felt the vibrations again and rushed to the bathroom where she heard my screams.
When she couldn’t get the door opened at first, she ran back to her room for the keys and tried that.
It took strength to pull the door open, it took intuition to know something was terribly wrong. She had both.
After I had calmed down a little, I asked Laura if Robert, my client,was there. She said he was. I told her to go get him and then to go back to her own client that was waiting for his massage you begin.
It took a minute or two before I could calm down enough to talk to my client, but I felt the strength and calmness from this big, gentle man that I’ve worked on for years.
I asked him to just hold me for a minute and he did. A strong, comforting embrace. Enough to let me ground myself and be centered again.
He asked if he should come again another day and, with tears in my eyes, I asked him to please let me work on him anyway.
I explained that when I massage, I feel powerful and I feel that I can trust myself, trust my instincts, trust my intuition and trust my body. I feel in control when I’m doing what I love and I needed that.
Oh, how I needed to give a massage after losing control of myself in a toliet closet.
He agreed. I stepped out and let him get on the table and when I laid my hands on his back, the rush of emotion hit me fully.
I wasn’t trapped anymore. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was safe. I was strong. I was capable.
I don’t remember much more about the massage itself. I remember wiping tears on my shirt as I worked. I remember his breathing was deep and slow. I remember how I felt calmer and calmer as I moved through each stroke.
What I will never forget is the way Laura’s instincts kicked into place and saved me and how Robert was so understanding and compassionate.
I will also never again shut the door on the toliet closet when I need to do my business. Instead I’ll shut the door to my massage room so that my greatest fear of being trapped won’t happen again.
On this date, September 11,the world changed forever.
So many people woke up and had no idea it would be their last kiss, last words, last hug. It was. They didn’t choose that.
The First Responders kept going again and again, doing what they were trained for… They choose and the world of those that loved them changed forever.
Today, choose to change the world again ,by spreading as much love as you can.
While we say that we will “never forget”, in truth ,we’ve became apathetic, harden,unforgiving and bitter in so many ways.
We look for flaws instead of beauty,we make excuses instead of plans,we neglect those we love too often, we hesitate to give generously and to offer our best.
We give lip service to cute pictures and posts, but in reality,we are so self absorbed that we miss out on so much.
Today, you can be the first to say “I’m sorry”, the first to say “I love you” and the first to offer an embrace. It may very well be the last chance you get, so don’t let your life be filled with regret.
We have lived so much of 2020 on the edge… Far too many people are wearing masks that hide smiles, standing far apart instead of touching, waiting for a magical vaccine or the end of Covid….
The thing is, fear is stealing joy, it’s taking away precious time and beautiful memories.
The towers fell down because of terrorists .
We are allowing another kind of terror to take over our lives- the fear of the unknown and the little known…we are so damn afraid of dying, that we do not live fully.
I don’t know all the answers but I do know love is the best one.
Be the first. Never forget. Walk with Love. Please. Be fearless.
In her massage office in Alabama, my friend has a sign posted:
“When you touch a body, you touch the whole person-intellect, spirit & emotions.”
She is a healer, a facilitator, a conduit for connecting a person’s energy to the source of healing in the universe.
She does not cure people, she would never claim that. Just like I don’t.
During the Covid crisis and Shelter In Place, we both had to close our practices. We couldn’t touch clients. We couldn’t touch anyone.
It felt like our hands were tied and with that, so was everything else- _emotions, intelligence, spirit. It was hard. It was very hard.
Some people think what we do is just a job, a career, that we have chosen.
That’s true for many massage therapists. It’s different for us, though.
Jennifer and I both feel as if massage therapy is our calling, it is what we were created to do. It goes beyond a job description. It is who we are.
Years ago,a very good friend of mine said to me,” There is no separation between you and your business. You are Rockwall Body and Soul Massage and it is you. You are complete when you massage, when you give a massage, you seem to receive back as much as you give.”
He is exactly right. It’s the whole truth. It’s also why I’m so particular about who gives me a massage. I will only receive bodywork from those that I trust with my soul. It’s the same way as making love, or having sex… Only those that fall in love with the naked soul should be able to touch the body. That’s how I feel anyways
That’s why Jennifer’s message bought tears to my eyes. She understands so well what touch means to me.
We have been friends a long time and shared many stories-personally and professionally.
Yesterday she messaged me and my heart felt as if she had taken my words and wrote them down for me.
“When touch a person, I lose my self. I shed my skin. I am a tool. Molding muscles and tissues into a piece of art work that is soft and knotless. I connect on a level that is beyond touch. Finding the lack of flow, and creating space where there is none. Unraveling knotted fibers, smoothing out scars and adhesions. Assessing each area for congestion caused by stress whether it’s physical or emotional. This is what I do. It completes me.”
“Intimately , it is similar … When I make love, I connect fully, giving myself over completely, connecting on a level that is beyond physical-Heart, Mind and Soul.
When I fuck, I connect,too, fully, feeding on passion, and offering my own up in exchange. I can guard the heart and keep some emotions at bay, but not all of them. I am able to disassociate enough to protect myself but just barely and with a lot of effort. I have to focus on feelings of physical pleasure more extremely than otherwise necessary.”
We are both survivors of sexual assault. I can and do split myself into three parts still. I can be touched, and not feel. I can feel without being touched. I can go through the motions-heart guarded and intact while my body moves.
If my emotional cup is empty, I can swallow the bitter taste and my body can go through the paces. I can hold back most of my feelings for as long as it takes. I’m used to it
This serves me well when I’m in training and my knee gives out. My willpower takes over and I push through the pain my body feels. I can close my hands and put my spirit elsewhere while my body is present for whatever reason.
It’s a blessing sometimes. Other times, it’s a curse.
There are certain people that give and receive touch from me that fills me on every level. These people are as vital to my well being as oxygen… During Shelter In Place, I craved their touch so deeply because, quite simply, their touch calms my spirit in ways I can’t put into words, try as I might.
*Regardless, in either case, because I am either focused on complete connection, or guarding myself from emotional pain, I am often incapable of holding back, that includes my noises as well as giving and receiving pleasure.
I feel the urge, I act upon it. I do not want to hold back, there is an innate need that has to be fulfilled.
If it is not fulfilled, I am left feeling empty. Needing more. Wanting more.
This is why I am so insatiable now that I’m able to touch again
For so long, I have been empty. I have cried, I have begged,
I have pleaded for someone to help me fill my cup.
How many times did I say that when I went to fill my cup, the machines were broken, out of order signs on each and every source?
My cup was broken anyway, shattered in a million pieces.
It was impossible to fill. My cup is still broken, but I am finding the glue to mend it.
It at least holds that essence of life that is so necessary for completeness.
I am living again, I am thriving. I am starving for more.”
Jennifer had been married for over 17 years to a man that withheld affection and touch so she received the touch she craved through her work. She gave massages and in giving, she received.
During Covid, Jennifer finally signed the divorce papers and began to write a new chapter of her book of life.
“When I touch someone, I share in the healing. When I touch someone, I become a part of something larger than myself.”
She is getting new cups and filling her broken cups and she is finding ways to be complete.
Jeanna' Soul 
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