The Power of Touch

In the wake of my New Year's Eve revelation, a tender journey began towards repairing my relationship with my inner child. I am creating a sanctuary where she can emerge from the shadows, communicate, and express herself at her own pace. I initiated this by gently inquiring,

"What would you like to do? How can I support you in this moment?"

Since starting this dialogue, a cascade of emotions and energy has swelled within my being—a complex amalgamation not easily discernible. Most notably, pressure and discomfort manifested between my lower back and hips. Despite attempts at stretching and self-care, the pain persisted, hinting at its psychosomatic nature. I also entertain the thought that Mercury's retroshade may have some influence in this as it is my ruling planet.

I eagerly anticipated the arrival of Sunday's ecstatic dance, eager to release the uncomfortable energy from my being. When the day unfolded, I immersed myself in the dance, reveling in play, and conscientiously attuning myself to the whispers of my body. Despite leaving with a sense of vitality and fullness, the discomfort remained.

Fate unfolded as I was returning home, bringing me face to face with my very first dance partner. To add to the synchronicities, at last Wednesday's dance, I unexpectedly encountered the man who introduced me to the world of ecstatic dance. It struck me that nearly a year had passed since I last interacted with either of them. Though unrelated, my partings with each had been tinged with a hint of awkwardness. The convergence of these two figures stirred the already knotted energy within me.

Curious cosmic energies are at play. Since the winter solstice, my tarot readings have foretold a consistent message of endings and beginnings emphasied by The Fool, The World, and The Wheel. A theme that has persisted into the new year. Bewildered by the sudden reunions and their significance, I found myself unwilling to grapple or comprehend it amidst the confusion I was already navigating.

As the Sunday evening unfolded, I sought solace in conversation with a friend—a skilled physical therapist. I spoke of my bodily discomfort and in a generous gesture, he extended an offer to provide me with a massage during the brief reprieve between his clients on the following afternoon.

When he arrived, we crafted a cozy haven to ward off the chill and commenced the session. The instant his hands contacted my bare back, a profound and immediate release of energetic tension coursed through me. Tears and sobs flowed freely, prompting us to pause, granting those emotions the sacred space they needed to unfurl.

Feeling safe, I surrendered to the moment. Intermittent releases continued throughout the massage, culminating in the most substantial wave just after the session's conclusion. The intensity of the experience was palpable. He sat with me, offering quiet support until the tempest within me subsided. The gift of that time lingers, and I offer immense appreciation for the healing space it provided.

I have discerned the presence of some obstacles which trapped the negative energy and reached profound and resonant realizations about my intrinsic value and deserving nature.

I am worthy of focused attention.

Back pain has plagued me for as long as my memories reach, and I've come to recognize that it is the vessel of most of my stress and trauma. His hands on my back resurfaced memories of my grandmother's comforting hands massaging heating muscle salves to my back as a child. Despite being the sole grandparent to many grandchildren vying for her attention, she consistently bestowed upon me her complete, focused, and unrushed care. I hadn't encountered that level of dedicated care since her passing many years ago.

I am worthy of respect.

My friend consistently checked in with me during the massage regarding both my physical and emotional well-being, a practice that repeatedly caught me off guard. As this realization gradually dawned on me why I found it surprising, profound sadness transformed into intense anger. The recognition of how little respect and consideration has been extended to my well-being in my lifetime was astonishing.

I am worthy of reciprocity.

From a young age, I was clear that I didn't desire children. A sentiment likely stemming from what psychology terms "parentification." Since my youth, I have drained my energy acting as a caregiver for all. Reflecting on this has stirred a poignant mix of sadness and resentment, realizing the lack of reciprocation and the burden of guilt and shame unjustly placed upon me for seeking care in return. Liberating myself from the role of the mother I never wanted to be brought relief to the pain in my back, pelvis, and hips.

I am worthy of loving and supportive partnership.

I summoned the strength to walk away from an unhealthy romantic partnership. Apart from grappling with the anger and disappointment arising from repeatedly neglecting my own needs for someone who couldn't reciprocate, I found I was also mourning the loss of the potential of what could have been. This was a landmark moment for me. The first instance where I recognized and asserted my inherent value. Yet, for some time I had lingering guilt for the "what if..." Never again!

I am worthy of receiving.

In a brief exchange, I felt heard and seen. I was offered support with immediate follow through, devoid of any expectations or desire for reciprocation.