The End of Summer
Today is the last day of school. It has all gone by in a twinkling: but working in the cubicles is a distant memory, as if I left that world decades ago. Now I have only to pass my national certification exam, and take my state boards, and I'll be a licensed massage therapist. By November, I hope, though there are often exasperating delays in the system. Until then -- when I can legally charge for it -- I'm going to try to do as much free massage as I possibly can, on the theory that most clients come by way of personal referral, and the more people I lay hands on, the better. (So if you're in Portland and want a massage, send me mail! I want to hear from you.)
Last clinic class was last night. I felt very "on," even though my client was ten minutes late, so that we had barely more than half an hour. I love this work. I love listening with my hands, finding what's bound up, and convincing it that it's safe to let go. At the risk of sounding maudlin or self-important -- it's sacred work. The means by which people learn, as Rachel put it recently in a beautiful post, to trust with their bodies.
Feeling extraordinarily fortunate. Thanks, thanks to all of you who encouraged me to do this. Especially Sunim Soen Joon -- always a put-your-money-where-your-mouth-is kind of girl -- who sternly told me that I simply had to do it. I'm so grateful.