Wow, it's been a lot more intensive than I'd expected!
Not so many years ago, touching another human being, and being touched, was alien to me. I would freeze if anyone thought about any kind of contact (even a finger), and utterly afraid of touching another person, for fear of doing something they didn't want. At the same time, I had the inkling of an idea that touch was basically good for people. And I found I was able to pay people attention in other ways.
One day, I was lucky enough to find a friend who dared to touch me in a way that awakened my interest. She simply ran the tip of her finger along my arm. It was incredible. "So that is what human-human touch feels like!". I was ready. Since, I have put my fears where they belong: in the past, and am on a new chapter of body awareness.
I've discovered that mere thoughts can warm a heart. Actions, without prejudice or fear, can surprise, invigorate and relieve. And there is so much to discover within even a single body. Such a rich and complex and deep cauldron of notions, feelings, processes, structures. And everyone is different!
I've also learned that living in a body is challenging. It hurts, it restricts, it hides its feelings and stores its painful memories for a lifetime (but doesn't make them disappear). I've learned that reclaiming my body, welcoming it back to me, as it were, is a long and difficult process. Yet it is much easier with help from others - and that likewise I can help others to reclaim their own bodies too.
For some years, I have been wanting to study massage. Life experience has shown me that intelligent use of touch is something I enjoy, and want to learn more about. The word "bodywork" is also exciting, but in another way: it seems to imply a change of nature. A shift of lifestyle. To bodywork, one becomes a therapist, rather than merely a friend who provides intelligent hugs at parties. Yet, it is basically the same thing in a different setting.
A few years ago I tried to join a massage course, but was refused because I didn't have a partner. Yuck! Somebody (and it wasn't me) was missing the point. Ah well.
Last year, I decided I was going to study something that would change me. Force me to change. This holistic course leapt out at me because it seemed to relax the rules. It seemed to say "do what is natural", rather than "do what is prescribed", which is a tremendous opportunity.
When I started the course, I was expecting to go on a journey, to learn some techniques, and to adjust my lifestyle to accommodate homework and spending more time stripping off with other people in large, meditational rooms.
I thought it would be good to develop some skill and knowledge, so that I could better care for friends. I have aches and pains, ergo I know what it is like when a friend does. I knew that my touch alone had been quite therapeutic (from feedback). It would be nice to develop that into a skill.
I wasn't expecting to use these skills outside a personal context, though!
During the course, as I have not lived in Bristol long, and do not collect new friends quickly, I discovered it was quite difficult to find people to practise with. So I advertised. That was scary: my name in shop windows!
So now people come to see me at home, and I provide therapeutic holistic massage.
Meanwhile, my main line of paid work was in computer-related engineering. I am very good at it :-) But that employment ceased a few weeks ago. And I am in no rush to go back.
So it seems that through unexpected twists in the plot, massage is now my primary work! And I'd like to keep it that way. I'm stunned by the prospect, but it's great fun. Exhilarating. Goodness, can I keep this up?!
It is a nice idea. But what about skill? At first, I was afraid to touch people. The course has certainly helped, but even now I have times when I wonder whether my touch is pleasant. I imagine that my own fears are picked up by the person under (or over!) my hands. I imagine that the shadier side of my character is revealed, and disliked.
Fortunately, we are taught not only to practise, but to gather feedback. That has really helped me. Even when I am not feeling so confident, feedback is usually quite positive, and that does wonders for my confidence. Which frees me, energetically, to do good work. A virtuous cycle.
Also, receiving massage has done wonders too. I don't receive often, but when I do it has always been with such care that, even if I don't feel my physical problems are resolved, I always leave with some insight into how I might feel to other people.
Receiving is great for learning, too. Each time I have received a massage, I've taken away some techniques and, somehow, some feeling, which I am able to pass on. For a while at least.
Technically, the course has really stretched me (pun intended!). Writing up, both massage diaries and this sort of writing is starting to get easier, but I still find it challenging. Finding the time to create a good atmosphere to conduct a massage has been challenging too, but I have managed it. Candles, peace, a breath of fresh air even if it is imaginary. Looking at beauty. Mood-setting music.
The real breakthrough came when I went with Andy Kent and James Miles to Buddhafield. A festival with a great attitude and no drugs/alcohol: we offered massage to everyone in the healing area. To our delight, we were fully booked every day. The people were fascinating, and the pace and atmosphere extremely challenging but also very exhilarating. For me, that turned on the confidence switch - led me to believe I can really offer something desirable - if I want to.
That feeling has faded a little now, even though I regularly receive clients at home. I'm more critical of my techniques, and increasingly rediscovering just how much I don't know, and how much I have forgotten.
It is a spiral as Andy had already suggested. I have come full circle, but also to the next level. Back to the beginning: I feel I'm learning so much anew that I have already seen, tried and forgotten. About massage, and about living. But this time, I am more confident, and have a baseline of experience, so I'm not scared of the basics: of touching, of seeming shadow-like, of holding, and of letting go. Now I know it's ok to shine, to glow, it's just I'm acutely aware that switching on my particular fire, going from pilot flame to ferocious but gentle living flame is actually another lifetime skill, and its early days on that particular journey.