Knead to know

I finally got in to see a very sought-after massage therapist in town. I waited three months for this massage. The waiting list is long because of her particular talents. This masseuse gives her customers much more than your standard massage. Hands up. How many of you are anticipating (or hoping for) stories of brothels fronted by massage parlours? Sorry-not this time. I’d be happy to write dirty for you – for a fee. This particular post is not about physical pleasures of massage. The talents to which I refer are more spiritual in nature.

This masseuse, I’ll call her Nadia, reads energy, diagnoses health issues and reports on your past lives and future opportunities. I guess she’s a psychic, but there is probably a more modern word for it. The minute you arrive, she dives right into your life. The fun doesn’t end with a psychic reading. After she has violated your unconscious and exposed all of your thoughts, fears and hopes, after she has fondled your soul and become more intimate with you than any lover or gynaecologist has ever been, she provides a relaxing massage.

I’ll admit that I want to believe in all of that stuff. I want someone to invite me to that mysterious dimension and show me that life isn’t always as it seems. But I’m not as open as I used to be. I learned my lesson my first year of college when I was out with friends bopping around Manhattan. Just for kicks, we went into a Psychic Reading shop thinking we were going to learn something about our futures. I’m not sure what secrets we thought would be uncovered for $5, but we were young and open (read stupid) and looking for new experiences. The fortune teller took my cash, grabbed my hand for a quick peek and said with what I’m sure she thought was an eastern European accent, “You will travel, and you will marry the man of your dreams.” “Where does it say that?” I asked. With her index finger, she drew spirals around the circumference of my palm and said, “Here.” Alrighty then.

Bad businesses fail in this neck of the woods. Word of mouth can make or break you, so you’d better be worth your salt. And when I heard about Nadia again and again from friends whom I trusted and respected, I couldn’t help but take notice. Could Nadia be the chaperone to my future?

I can tell you that she is certainly intuitive and is most likely able to read people better than they are able to read themselves. As far as the future goes, I’ll just have to wait and see. The future has yet to unfold. She didn’t mention whether or not I would win a LEZZY, but perhaps that is because my future is very much dependent on the future of my readers and whether or not they will choose to nominate the blog HERE....once a day through the 9th.

She did start the session with a big truth. I had just taken off my coat when she asked, “WHO is so judgmental in your life?!? A woman. Your mother! And she is so very critical. And you walk around with her weight on your shoulders.” She nailed that one. I’ve been trying to pull my shoulders back ever since to get that infernal woman off my back.

I don’t know what I think about past lives. At the very least, these characters provide ample dinner party conversation. Apparently, I have been a Native American archer who taught my tribe how to fight with bows and arrows. I have been Freud’s assistant. And, I have been a member of a harem. Are you finished laughing? There’s more. Gabriella was my spouse in my Native American life. While it’s difficult to imagine myself an Indian Brave, I don’t have any difficulty imagining Gabriella with a papoose tied to her back while she grinds corn (which we called “maize”) in a wooden bowl in front of our tee-pee. Nadia told me that Gabriella was also with me in the harem. I just can’t seem to shake her.

Look, I can’t prove that any of this is true or false, so I choose not to suppose either. It does provide me with food for thought. Nadia told me that I’m a teacher in many lives starting with the Native American archer. Maybe I should be a teacher when I grow up? I’ve been helping out at Asher’s pre-school, and I have to say that I’ve enjoyed it. Or maybe I should just stick to wearing moccasins or hunting beaver. Did you beat me to the punch line? That’s right, I’ve already had plenty of beaver.

Nadia also told me that she was surprised that I wasn’t a therapist or psychologist due to my tutelage under Freud. Did I miss my calling or is it enough that I play armchair therapist with friends and family? Would I make a good therapist or would I be far too tempted to tell everyone to “get over it”?

I’m thinking Gabriella and I made the best of our lives in the harem. I’m sure we weren’t just lying around on pillows all day if you know what I mean. And what’s wrong with polygamy anyway? Perhaps, Big Love is too good. I’m just about convinced that there is nothing wrong with polygamy between consenting adults. Why should it matter to me that a guy hooks up with a few willing women and has lots of children with all of them? It takes a village, right? The 3 sister-wives on Big Love do love and support each other and keep their 3 households running smoothly in the face of ignorance, hatred and fantastic made-for-television drama.



As long as all parties are of age and no one is being coerced, I say go for it. As a matter of fact, I’m going to ask Gabriella when we can take a sister-wife. I’m guessing Gabriella will oppose my request initially, but I think I picked up enough from Freud to help her work through her fears.

I booked another appointment with Nadia. The massage alone was worth the price of admission. And the rest, well, we’ll see. I do need to ask her when we can expect our new wife. I’ll need to clear out some space in the closet.