20 Massages in 2 Months - Massage #3 (continued)

A photo of three fish in the tank at the Center for Well-Being on Hill Street in Monroe, WA. I couldn't get them to hold still for the photo - maybe they are shy like Rose.

Next Rose moved to my right shoulder. She cupped her hands over it. I had asked her to convey to me any intuitive messages that she picked up. After a moment of silence she spoke. 

"In the scapula there is guardedness. And on the shoulder near the collar bone it is as if there are soldiers guarding and protecting. You are waiting for proof or a sign. Whatever you are holding there is related to the spiritual work you are doing. Definately." 

She added, "When I looked at your shoulder I saw that your synapses were firing all over the place. Very intense brain activity. I thought, 'Hmmmm, she's a thinker' ...and you've got more than one conversation going on inside of you!"

This message of soldiers and doubt and brain activity and conflicting conversations was one more layer of the puzzle and a deeper revelation of what had already been concluded: I was having trouble letting go and my logical brain was working over time- like an attorney seeking a "stop work" order to prevent the demolition of a building - a demolition that in all likelihood was going forward anyway.

Now, as I write, I think of the soldiers and wonder, "am I, in ways I have not seen, at war with my own spiritual nature and therefore, the spiritual forces that guide me? Is this numbness a disability imposed by doubt, a confinement of the arm, that which is necessary for writing and communicating and which therefore prevents me from moving forward?"

Next, Rose did some very light work on my shoulder as if to coax release. Then she did some deeper work on my trapezius and scapula muscles. She addressed the conundrum of my aversion to having my neck touched.

"You might be more comfortable having work done on your neck if people let you know ahead of time when they are going to touch your neck and what their intentions are," she said. This was sound, practical advice I could implement.

Though Rose had for the most part done light tissue work I felt very calm and centered at the end of the massage. I worried out loud about falling asleep on the table when I was supposed to be getting dressed. “No worries,” she said, “there’s nobody right after you. Take your time.” She closed the door behind her.

In the last analysis Rose’s massage was not only educational it left me feeling great and relaxed in a way that I had not experienced before. I would definitely get a massage from Rose again!

Rose's messages inspired me to have a conversation with my right arm. That night I sat down and focused in into the numbness. An image appeared. It was me in my attorney self. I was dressed in a brown suit. As if to emphasize the male energy with which I worked, I took a male form. I wore a tie. Even better I was unshaven and sweaty from spending two days and two nights drafting at a feverish pitch the perfect legal argument which I was prepared to present to the court, or in this case, the spirit world. I stood in front of them holding a brief case, looking bleary-eyed and desperate. As I begin to speak they preempted my words. 

“This is not a negotiation," they said simply

“What?” My attorney mind was cloudy from days of nervous and tedious plotting of what was an admittedly difficult case. I was having trouble taking in what I was hearing.

“This is not a negotiation,” they repeated

This was news to me, for if it was not a chance to set the terms upon which I work, to convince them of the importance of my position, then what was it? And then again once more I said, "What?"

For the third time. “This is not a negotiation.”

A fourth time, with more vigor, as if to penetrate the lingering, sticky perplexity, "This is not a negotiation!"

I reflected on the soldiers and their implements of war. Since the awakening I see more. Though what I see is sometimes frightening it is just as often fascinating. I had no idea - until I looked - that a battle of this intensity, complete with spirits, guns, an army and a legal case upon which everything seemed to hinge, raged inside of me! And within the plain curve of my arm and shoulder! Had I, in a way I was just now becoming aware of, approached the spirit world as the enemy or opposing counsel, offering the terms of a hostile settlement in lieu of trust, cooperation and partnership? And if so, on what was my mistrust based?  I have a hunch that the answer dwells in the mysterious fear in my neck.