The Bodies of Angels - 20 Massage in 2 Months (Massage #4 continued)

A smiling Tasha standing in front of the poster in massage room #6 at the Center for Well-Being

 I received massage #4 from Tasha. Tasha is an experienced massage therapist and energy worker.  I told Tasha that the numbness in my right arm goes away during each massage only to return promptly when I sit down to write, or as I have begun to notice, when I discuss or lately think about spiritual writing. I ask her to tell me any intuitive insights or messages that come to her.

Tasha started the massage by having me lie face up on the table. Fairly quickly into the massage she reached under my back and curled her fingers just under the edges of my right scapula to work the muscle and do cranial-sacral work. Her fingers were comfortable there and I felt the muscle release. Soon after this intense emotions begin to arise.

As I listened to these emotions, I heard once again the voice of my attorney self.  He articulated his case carefully, vehemently, as if to a court. His eyes were large and fearful. “You cannot trust God. You can only trust rationality. You can only trust logic. With logic nothing is hidden. Your mind can grasp it!”

As Tasha worked the muscle and I listened to this voice of mistrust, from deep within my gut a shard of terror flashed to the surface. I felt movement in the right side of my neck where normally, if I were touched, I would shrink away.

Soon Tasha asked me to flip over on the table and put my face in the face cradle. While she worked in deep strokes on my back I shared with her something that had occurred last week as, during the deepest most silent part of the night, I slept.

Becoming a spiritual healer has meant that I have more than my share of direct experiences with the spirit world and three nights ago was no exception. While sleeping on my stomach, face in my pillow, I woke to the feeling of a large hand clasped around the back of my neck. Another hand pressed a palm against the corner of my right scapula and third stretched my left arm and pulled it behind and away from my body. 10 years ago, I would have run screaming from my bedroom. Now, suspecting the spirits, I reached behind me to place my own hand over the back of my neck. Because spirits are ethereal, I expected to move through the hand and land on my own skin. Instead I felt a large physical mass, the curve of individual fingers, a field of small hairs like eyelashes set into the skin between knuckles and the warmth of fire within flesh. For a split second I became terrified. I did not know what was happening. Was I being attacked in my sleep by an intruder or healed by angels that for some reason I was able to experience as solid? I opened my eyes long enough to see that my bedroom was empty and I rolled back into sleep.

Tasha replied, “It’s interesting that they touched you in the parts of your body you are trying to heal.

Though I have grown more used to these occurrences over time, the next day after the visitation, I walked outside in newly fallen snow and listened to the soles of my boots scrap against the concrete of the sidewalk. I remembered the angelic hands with a sense fear and awe sufficient to distract me from the fact of the gift: they had apparently come to lay hands upon me.

I do not remember an attorney ever giving free healing to me in my sleep. This angelic gesture, though startling, gave me pause to consider the vastly different potentials of the two worlds between which I have been asked to choose.