Heather and I are getting Swedish massages today. A couples massage is what they call it. I'm glad it's not my first time getting a full-body massage. Otherwise, I think I would be a bit edgy. Of course every masseuse is not the same. I just hope I get a woman. That sounds bad, but really I can't understand why a man who is pretty comfortable with himself would want a man to give him a massage. It might just be me.
My first massage was at a place in Springfield. It was in a salon. Everything was very private and relaxing. I had this image that I would be naked with only a small t-towel covering my heiny. Instead the massage therapist invited me back, asked me about health concerns, tense areas, and of course, was this my first time. Then she said she would leave the room and allow me to take off my clothes to "my comfort level" and get into the bed thingy. It was really like a cozy envelope of sheets. I was completely covered up to my neck.
When she reentered, she started some soft New Age music and then informed me about the process. At no point during the process would I ever be fully exposed or anything like that. Basically she worked on each section of my body. My right leg, thigh and feet. And then my left leg, thigh and feet. Kinda like a butcher preparing a piece of meat. Not the best simile. Anyway.
Her hands worked and molded my skin and muscle until I felt like, well, almost nothing. Like I was not there. I felt like I left my body, and was floating in space. Really. It was amazing. I truly felt like God was present with me, and that I could see things pretty clearly. I also felt really idealistic dramatic things like if the leaders of all countries could convene and have these massages they would just get everything resolved. Ever. No more wars, poverty, disease, etc.
But that is the world you visit during a massage. At least that was my experience. When I left, I felt so relaxed. I felt as if I had a whole new body. It was an appropriate feeling considering the fact that I scheduled the massage for the day ten years after my second major open-heart surgery.
I know a lot of guys are fearful of this sorta thing. Get over it. Really. When you have one, you will be mad you didn't get one sooner. I can't guarantee it will be the same. I'm sure I took a lot of my personality in with me. For example, if the idea of touching a stranger or shaking hands with someone or hugging bothers you now, maybe it's not the best idea for you. But if you are worried about being self-conscious or if "it" will move, I wouldn't let that get in the way. Unless you want it to move, but then we are probably not talking about the same type of massages at all.
Well, now we are off for our couples massage. It's nice to know we will be together, floating in space, smiling like fools.
Update: Just came back from couple's massage. Heather and I feel wonderful, but this was not the dreamy, floating in space experience like the first one. It was still great, but apparently city-living or my work existence behind a desk is taking a toll because I had some really tense areas. And she worked on them. And worked on them. It's interesting to feel a tense area in your body for the first time. I really had no idea these knots were there. In fact, the main tense and sore area of my body didn't involve any substantial work at all. She just found these spots, like a, like a, like a professional therapist. And she worked until I felt them quiver, loosen and retreat, in a sense. It was great afterwards. In fact, I feel great now, but at certain times it was rather uncomfortable. When I asked Heather about this, she said it was normal. She also said she loved it when they found those tense spots and worked on them. Really. She was totally into it. Sometimes she really surprises me.
And yes, I still recommend massages.
Lisa Simpson: Did you know the Chinese use the same word for crisis as they do for opportunity?
Homer Simpson: Yes, crisitunity!
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Anniversary Honeymoon
Heather and I are headed to Galena, Illinois today for our one year anniversary. It's a few weeks after our actual anniversary, but it's the first time we've been able to get away. I keep saying it's our honeymoon, Heather keeps correcting me. It's pretty funny.
I wonder if I keep saying that because I'm not used to being married or because it still feels like we are in the honeymoon phase or because I'm, as my dad used to call me, a royal space cadet.
A royal space cadet. That's pretty much the best kind of space cadet. My wife is definitely a princess. I'm so thankful for her and her gracious heart. And her understanding. And her ability to listen. And her sharp wit. And I could go on.
The leaves are past their prime. It is colder much faster outside now. We are both working at an Oasis just outside of Belvidere, Illinois. After working for a few more hours, we will head onto Galena for a weekend of relaxation and celebration of our life together. My posts may be brief.
Happy Anniversary Honeymoon to us.
I wonder if I keep saying that because I'm not used to being married or because it still feels like we are in the honeymoon phase or because I'm, as my dad used to call me, a royal space cadet.
A royal space cadet. That's pretty much the best kind of space cadet. My wife is definitely a princess. I'm so thankful for her and her gracious heart. And her understanding. And her ability to listen. And her sharp wit. And I could go on.
The leaves are past their prime. It is colder much faster outside now. We are both working at an Oasis just outside of Belvidere, Illinois. After working for a few more hours, we will head onto Galena for a weekend of relaxation and celebration of our life together. My posts may be brief.
Happy Anniversary Honeymoon to us.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
O-Dark-Thirty, Part Two
Okay, so as I established in the previous post I am not much of a morning person. And I have developed a love/hate relationship with my alarms. Actually, it's more accurate to say it's a like/hate relationship. But the alarm discussion was really peripheral to the thrust of my post, which was about early morning events I've had. Since this is a rather casual and open medium, I don't mind distracting myself from my intended purpose. I do hope I can always circle back around and focus on the original intent of said blog post, especially if I declared it at some point in the post.
There are probably two to three reasons we get up early.
1) Education or work. If you plan on attending your 8 am class, you must get up somewhat early, and if you are me and only need an hour or so. Or if you work, and your hours are in the morning, you have to wake up for work. That is, if you want to keep your job. Then of course there is the work you do around home, like cleaning, yard work, etc. This work may require getting up early as well.
None of these events are really "exciting" reasons to get up, though. Unless you work at Sea World or Google.
On the Numeric Rating Scale for pain, 0 being no pain and 7-10 being severe pain, getting up for any of these reasons usually hits a 10. I know some say if you get enough sleep, it won't be as bad, but I don't know that I have ever heard my alarm or had a wake up call and afterward just popped out of bed with a spring in my step. Usually I moved like a sick wildebeest in a swamp.
If the reason for getting up is high on the "no fun" scale, the pain definitely stays between 8-10. Drugs must be taken to cope with said pain. Drugs like coffee or some caffeinated infusion.
2) Emergency/Drunk Friend/Drunk Friend Drama/Regular Drama/Mother/Some Girl Claiming to be pregnant with your love child. This is never a fun wake up, mainly because it's so incredibly alarming. The event itself is an alarm. An alarm that is blaring in your head, in no certain order, "What the hell? Who the ? Someone's dead! Someone's hurt! What is my company's policy on on such and such family-related death?" Well, this is what goes through my head. But here's the catch. These tragedies are almost always never the reason someone has called me at an ungodly hour.
My poor (in the bless your heart sense) father received a phone call in the early morning once while I was away at college. The girl on the other line proceeded to tell my father that I got her pregnant at the county fair that past summer. Since my dad believes in my innocence in most things (even though he probably has plenty of historical evidence to the contrary), just said something like, well, I think you have the wrong Jason, and I don't think Jason was at the fair last summer, and he's at college now. Now that I've written that out, it does look a bit like something for one of those 48 Hours/Discovery ID shows, doesn't it? "Little did they know about the secret lifestyle their son had been living with carnies..."
At any rate, I feel like I should say this, just to be clear for everyone who might be reading this, the accusation was completely false, and we are still uncertain who the woman was. I will say this, I think it could have been a mistaken identity situation. While in high school, we had a wilder, less-inhibited neighbor also named Jason and who was about my age. We always wondered. The other theory was that it was some former high school student harassing my dad. He was a high school principal, so that did happen.
At any rate, on the pain scale, this pain falls somewhere between 5-10. It's really hard to say. It depends on what the news is about, how long you have to be on the phone, and if you can't get back to sleep because of said wake-up call.
3) Vacation/Praying with Monks, Quiet Time or Devotions/Meteor Shower/Bird or Animal Watching/Christmas and Easter. While it still may be incredibly difficult to get out of bed at 3 AM or 4 AM, if the reason is rewarding, it's easier for me to motivate myself out of my cocoon of blankets.
Some of my fondest morning memories as a child were the times we all had to get up early on the first day of vacation. It was almost always dark, but everything seemed to bright. The air tingled with possibilities of driving to far away destinations and visiting amazing places like the Corn Palace, Prairie Dog Town, Bedrock City, WALL DRUG. And on the way, we almost always stopped for donuts at a place called the Donut Hole. I was usually so excited the night before I didn't get much sleep, but that doesn't mean I didn't hop out of bed in Christmas-morning excitement.
Then there are few times I've been to monasteries on weekend retreats. The retreatants are encouraged to join in liturgy of hours with the monks. My favorite hour of the day was typically the first, Vigils. It was usually around 3 am. I usually just slide into jeans and a t-shirt or sweatshirt and trundle into the sanctuary or nave. The vast room was dark except for a candle symbolizing the presence of God burning at the far end. Then the monks with tousled morning hair and disheveled robes waddled into the sanctuary as well. A few more lights would come on, but not too many. After they finished filing in, they would then begin chanting their prayers for Vigils. Wikipedia used the words, "purposeful sleeplessness" to describe this time. I like that. We were keeping watch for others, praying for the world while it slept. The last few times I did this I had this beautiful image in my head. I could see my niece and nephew sleeping. In some sort of cosmic and guardianesque way, I felt like the monks and I were keeping watch for them through our prayers.
And then when it was over I went back to bed until the next hour of prayer.
These experiences rate at about 2-4. No, it's not absent of complete pain. I still have to get up. And more than likely, I didn't get enough sleep the night before. But the reason for waking up far outweighs the pain.
I'm not a morning person, but these were some amazing pre-dawn moments. I want to continue this series on early morning, but right now I need to get back to work.
There are probably two to three reasons we get up early.
1) Education or work. If you plan on attending your 8 am class, you must get up somewhat early, and if you are me and only need an hour or so. Or if you work, and your hours are in the morning, you have to wake up for work. That is, if you want to keep your job. Then of course there is the work you do around home, like cleaning, yard work, etc. This work may require getting up early as well.
None of these events are really "exciting" reasons to get up, though. Unless you work at Sea World or Google.
On the Numeric Rating Scale for pain, 0 being no pain and 7-10 being severe pain, getting up for any of these reasons usually hits a 10. I know some say if you get enough sleep, it won't be as bad, but I don't know that I have ever heard my alarm or had a wake up call and afterward just popped out of bed with a spring in my step. Usually I moved like a sick wildebeest in a swamp.
If the reason for getting up is high on the "no fun" scale, the pain definitely stays between 8-10. Drugs must be taken to cope with said pain. Drugs like coffee or some caffeinated infusion.
2) Emergency/Drunk Friend/Drunk Friend Drama/Regular Drama/Mother/Some Girl Claiming to be pregnant with your love child. This is never a fun wake up, mainly because it's so incredibly alarming. The event itself is an alarm. An alarm that is blaring in your head, in no certain order, "What the hell? Who the ? Someone's dead! Someone's hurt! What is my company's policy on on such and such family-related death?" Well, this is what goes through my head. But here's the catch. These tragedies are almost always never the reason someone has called me at an ungodly hour.
My poor (in the bless your heart sense) father received a phone call in the early morning once while I was away at college. The girl on the other line proceeded to tell my father that I got her pregnant at the county fair that past summer. Since my dad believes in my innocence in most things (even though he probably has plenty of historical evidence to the contrary), just said something like, well, I think you have the wrong Jason, and I don't think Jason was at the fair last summer, and he's at college now. Now that I've written that out, it does look a bit like something for one of those 48 Hours/Discovery ID shows, doesn't it? "Little did they know about the secret lifestyle their son had been living with carnies..."
At any rate, I feel like I should say this, just to be clear for everyone who might be reading this, the accusation was completely false, and we are still uncertain who the woman was. I will say this, I think it could have been a mistaken identity situation. While in high school, we had a wilder, less-inhibited neighbor also named Jason and who was about my age. We always wondered. The other theory was that it was some former high school student harassing my dad. He was a high school principal, so that did happen.
At any rate, on the pain scale, this pain falls somewhere between 5-10. It's really hard to say. It depends on what the news is about, how long you have to be on the phone, and if you can't get back to sleep because of said wake-up call.
3) Vacation/Praying with Monks, Quiet Time or Devotions/Meteor Shower/Bird or Animal Watching/Christmas and Easter. While it still may be incredibly difficult to get out of bed at 3 AM or 4 AM, if the reason is rewarding, it's easier for me to motivate myself out of my cocoon of blankets.
Some of my fondest morning memories as a child were the times we all had to get up early on the first day of vacation. It was almost always dark, but everything seemed to bright. The air tingled with possibilities of driving to far away destinations and visiting amazing places like the Corn Palace, Prairie Dog Town, Bedrock City, WALL DRUG. And on the way, we almost always stopped for donuts at a place called the Donut Hole. I was usually so excited the night before I didn't get much sleep, but that doesn't mean I didn't hop out of bed in Christmas-morning excitement.
Then there are few times I've been to monasteries on weekend retreats. The retreatants are encouraged to join in liturgy of hours with the monks. My favorite hour of the day was typically the first, Vigils. It was usually around 3 am. I usually just slide into jeans and a t-shirt or sweatshirt and trundle into the sanctuary or nave. The vast room was dark except for a candle symbolizing the presence of God burning at the far end. Then the monks with tousled morning hair and disheveled robes waddled into the sanctuary as well. A few more lights would come on, but not too many. After they finished filing in, they would then begin chanting their prayers for Vigils. Wikipedia used the words, "purposeful sleeplessness" to describe this time. I like that. We were keeping watch for others, praying for the world while it slept. The last few times I did this I had this beautiful image in my head. I could see my niece and nephew sleeping. In some sort of cosmic and guardianesque way, I felt like the monks and I were keeping watch for them through our prayers.
And then when it was over I went back to bed until the next hour of prayer.
These experiences rate at about 2-4. No, it's not absent of complete pain. I still have to get up. And more than likely, I didn't get enough sleep the night before. But the reason for waking up far outweighs the pain.
I'm not a morning person, but these were some amazing pre-dawn moments. I want to continue this series on early morning, but right now I need to get back to work.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
So, yeah, microblogging.
I posted a short blog entry this morning and expected to follow it up later with a longer post, but then someone called what I did "microblogging." And said it was nice.
So it's a thing. Brief, meaningful or well-thought blog posts are a thing.
Yay! So with that in mind, that earlier post will be my main post for the day. I will try not to make it a habit, but...sometimes I just feel a creative urge. And believe it or not, I spent more time editing and reworking that post than I have on other much longer posts.
Game 1 of the World Series. The Giants are killing the Tigers, 6-0. Go Giants!
So it's a thing. Brief, meaningful or well-thought blog posts are a thing.
Yay! So with that in mind, that earlier post will be my main post for the day. I will try not to make it a habit, but...sometimes I just feel a creative urge. And believe it or not, I spent more time editing and reworking that post than I have on other much longer posts.
Game 1 of the World Series. The Giants are killing the Tigers, 6-0. Go Giants!
Image(s)
While paused at a traffic light during my pre-dawn commute, I noticed the silhouette of a woman (presumably) in the car in front of me styling her hair.
Through the dew streaked rear window of her car, it looked as if she was conducting an orchestra of her hair. Her elbows jutting out and bowing. Hands diving and disappearing into the headrest.
Or perhaps she was assuming a pose of a Hindu goddess. And for that moment,she was bathed in the divine artificial glow and hum of the red light.
And then it changed to green.
Through the dew streaked rear window of her car, it looked as if she was conducting an orchestra of her hair. Her elbows jutting out and bowing. Hands diving and disappearing into the headrest.
Or perhaps she was assuming a pose of a Hindu goddess. And for that moment,she was bathed in the divine artificial glow and hum of the red light.
And then it changed to green.
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