The moment I let go of it...

I think it was the third day I was here that Andrea, one of my fellow "dorm-mates", a long-time yoga instructor and a 52-year old spitfire of a Brazilian woman with a body to DIE for, grabbed me and tried to rub out some of the deep-seated tension between my shoulder blades. I had just finished telling her about the difficulty I was having with all of this "sitting up straight" and 4 hours of yoga given the near-constant pain I had in my back, and that I had just scheduled a series of 3 ayurvedic massages. "Mmmmmmmm", she sighed as she tried to wedge her fingers under my left shoulder-blade, "so much tightness, you have no eh-space here." I know, I replied with a shrug. She patted my back and said with a thick Brazilian accent, "Baby, joga ees gon' be sooo good to you." I smiled. "The massage... it gonna help too."

I was admittedly skeptical about how much difference three days of massage would make given that I honestly have difficulty remembering a time that my back hasn't hurt at least a little (too many years of bad posture and bad patterns, I know). Side note here: isn't is weird though how we just learn to live with and eventually just kind of ignore pain? I suppose it's a kind of survival mechanism...

Now, nearly 3 weeks and 8(!) massages later, I'm finding it hard to put into words what a difference they've made. To be fair, the last two massages haven't been for back pain, but rather a part of the cleansing regime I'm doing this week. Sindhu, my massage therapist, and one of my new favorite people in the world, was sure that I would only need the three initial massages to be "better". I think she actually may have been right, but, skeptic that I am I went ahead and scheduled another series of 3 (at less than $8 a pop it's hard to feel too bad about having too many massages). I think the massages combined with the "joga" (as Andrea would say) have worked a little magic. I still get a little nagging pain after too long of trying to sit up straight (old habits die hard), but the range of motion I have and the "open-ness" I'm feeling in my back is just incredible. The knots I'm used to feeling roll across my shoulder blades are just gone... as if they've dissolved. It's bizarre, but I'm not complaining.

I don't think I've talked about the ayurvedic massage yet, and it's too long of a process to get completely into here (although you know I'm going to try...), but it's like no other massage I've experienced. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm a massage connoisseur, but I've had a few in my lifetime (though never with the frequency of the last few weeks), and while at first I missed the deep pressure of a more familiar "Swedish" type massage, I have learned to love the ayurvedic oil massage. The massage is very gentle, and feels a bit ritualistic, very much like you're being anointed somehow. Each session starts with me sitting on a stool (stark naked, by the way, for all the modesty enforced throughout India, there are no qualms about whipping off all of your clothes in the massage room. And forget about a sheet to cover up with...), before Sindhu presses her palms, full of hot oil, to the top of my head, and begins to massage my scalp. As she begins I can here her chanting blessings just under her breath. After the scalp massage, she has me move to the wooden massage table, where I sit with my back facing toward her as she dabs oil onto my earlobes before coming around to press some into my belly button and then swipe the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands. Then the massage begins in earnest and every part of me gets slicked up until I feel, well, the phrase "like a greased pig" comes to mind. There is something about the quality of the touch during these massages that is just incredible. One of the girls and I were talking about it and have come to the conclusion that it's very much like a mother's touch, gentle and soothing. It's a touch I think we experience far too little of...

Anyhow, this morning I once again hopped up on the stool, naked as the day I was born, closed my eyes, and waited for Sindhu to start her now familiar routine. But today as she started to move behind me she paused. "Josie?" I opened my eyes. Sindhu took a step back and I saw her look me up and down, appraising me with a kind but critical gaze as she walked a half-turn around me. "Josie... your body, very slimmer." I look up at her and smile. "First time coming... bigger", she says, holding her hands out in front of her at a width I'd beg to differ with, thank you very much. "Now... smaller. This (she pats my stomach), this (my hip), and... this (with a downward glance toward my chest)... smaller." I'm not quite sure how to respond to this assessment. "You weigh? Lose? How much?" I explain that I've lost about 6 kilos since I arrived at the ashram. Sindhu nods in a way that seems confirmatory more than anything. "Good, this. Good." She smiles broadly and holds up the pinky finger of her right hand in what is apparently a cross-cultural representation of "skinny". "You not this. Not your body. Never." I laugh at her blunt truthfullness, "No, Sindhu, I'll never be skinny." She laughs back, "No skinny. No, but good, good. This very good." She squeezes my shoulder, and then pats my back before getting on to business as usual.

Thank you, Sindhu, goddess of the pained back, and though I have a ways to go, for the first time in a long time, I'm starting to agree... it is good.