I took my shoes off and prepared to settle down for a relaxing massage appointment.
I hadn’t been for a massage in what felt like years; life was always popping up and throwing curve balls and I just couldn’t justify the time away.
I settled in, draped myself with ultraluxe blankets and felt like a babe in womb. Ah. This is going to be a great hour, where I turn my brain off and just enjoy the pampering.
The therapist came in – a younger woman in her mid-twenties – and asked what areas I felt held tension.
I explained that it felt like my whole body had been hit by trains, run over by elephants and to please work her magic.
Relax she said…Enjoy this next hour and just let the stress float away.
She set the lights low, played tranquil music, and set to work.
It was at this exact moment that the goblins which inhabit my cerebral cortex announced their arrival.
What could have been an extremely peaceful hour, turned in to a cacophony of doubt, nagging and random thoughts:
“Did I pack enough lunch for the little one?”
“Did I remember to turn the lights off?”
“Should I have shaved my legs before the appointment?”
“Ugh I need a pedicure so bad. I hope she doesn’t notice how gross my heels look. Oh no. Do my feet stink?”
“I need to do this more often.”
“Have I raised my teenagers to make good choices? What if they need to sew a button on their pants? I should start a stockpile.”
“Do chickens and turkeys understand each other?”
“Maybe I can start my own influencer side hustle …”
And so on. And so on. At no point did I drift off peacefully like a 90’s Calgon bath commercial.
At the end of the hour, my truly wonderful therapist asked how I felt, if I felt more relaxed. I tried to nod and smile convincingly; the jury is still out on how well I succeeded.
Sometimes, our best intentions backfire.
Sometimes, we can’t shake our best friend named Parent Guilt and enjoy ourselves completely.
Sometimes, it’s hard to turn the internal noise down or press the mute button.
And to this I say: it’s okay.
Was my massage still enjoyable? Of course, it was.
Did I enjoy that hour to myself with no one making any demands? Absolutely. Will I do it again? Without a doubt.
I still don’t know if turkeys and chickens understand each other, but I do know that my dry heels and chipping nail polish didn’t make a difference.
So book the massage.
Crawl on to the table.
Enjoy the feeling of softness against your skin.
Let the questions come and then, let them go. I promise you: you’re worth it.
If you’re interested in booking a massage, take a look at our WIN Registered Massage Therapists online or give us a call to discuss availability.