allah
“How did the rose ever open its heart and give to this world all its beauty? It felt the encouragement of light aginst its being, otherwise we all remain too frightened. ”
Acupuncturist Appointment
Mariko - May 25th - 14:00
Part 3.
What happened? And what can I do better next time?
Material or metaphysical pain is the only thing that teaches one how to grow. Evolution did not occur as a result of contentment. Adaptation transpires when thrust outside the circle where one is comfortable; adjust or die. Is that even a choice? These are the questions I ask after a calamity.
Your heart needs stronger roots. It leaps up and out; you must stop the back bending. Take a rest. Your practice for the next seven days is to relax, especially around your heart.
As she said this, Markico rolled my shirt to my armpits and put her hands on my back. She pressed each palm into my kidneys.
Have you had surgery?
Yes. I had my gallbladder removed.
Ah. Aggression. How long ago?
Seven years. Or more; I don't know.
The timeline is not so important. I will use this-
Mariko presented a little wooden mallet and block under the head of the table where my eyes were positioned. I opened them. She had lovely little feet. Square toenails. I nodded.
She laid a very thin piece of linen over my back. Over the cloth, she set the block and began tapping it gently. She moved from hip to hip across my waist, lower back, and sides of my ribs. I felt like I might throw up.
Deep breaths. Send your breath into the back of your heart.
My eyes closed, and I imagined spreading white light down my spine and into the back of my lungs. The light billowed around me every time I inhaled, just outside my skin. As I exhaled, the light moved closer. I felt it enter my body.
Good.
Mariko kept tapping.
Where do we end up if we don't have the tools to return to our roots?
With each rupture, we are like the light; just outside of ourselves, and without a strong enough contraction, we cannot get back in.
When I was eight, I flipped over the handlebars of my bike cycling downhill. I landed on my stomach and saw my two front teeth on the pavement in a pool of blood. My adult teeth. When the dentist pushed each tooth back into the empty socket, I felt the pain throb down to the tips of my toes. The agony was so total and embodied, I did not want to be inside my skin. I wanted to dissolve.
There are so many ways to break a person; it can be quickly or a slow burn. Physical, emotional, and mental; some grief is too great, and the only way out is death. I've met many strange beings who soldier onward as if nothing happened; it is too great to confront, so denial becomes the standard state of being.
You can flip over; we will do your frontline now.
Mariko removed the wooden instruments and stepped back. I turned around and felt my eyelashes sticking to my face. Wearing mascara to these experiences is never the correct choice.
I will place a few pins and use this- she held up the metal wand- along your jaw and temples.
It is reassuring to have a person explain their action to you before they do it. The last time I was at the dentist, the first and final with this clinic, I asked the male doctor what he would do in my mouth. It was after the cleaning with the hygienist. He looked at me with a peculiar sort of disgust on his face. Somewhat inquisitive, though mostly annoyed, he said, why? Will you understand what I am telling you?
I wish I could say I walked out at that moment.
Instead, I said, I'd like to know what you're putting inside my mouth as if it were some odd request to inquire about the tools used on the body! He rolled his eyes and pointed to the tools on the long silver tray. He didn't make eye contact with me after that, and I never returned for my follow-up appointment to finish the examination.
Mariko put us on the same level when she gave me clear, considered verbal annotations as she worked on me. I used to behave similarly when I babysat Code and Frankie. It encourages inclusivity and power-with structures instead of a hierarchy.
Ah, I see your scars from the surgery, Mariko said as she rolled up my shirt on the front. She gently moved her hands over my abdomen and below my navel to the lower belly. I flinched. Something inside of me wriggled like a slug being poked with a stick.
When I was a kid, we would go camping at Golden Ears Campground for two summer months. Only a twenty-minute drive from our home, my parents would take turns commuting to work, and my sisters would stay with the other adult at the campsite. It was glorious; some of my best memories are swimming in Alouette Lake and hiking the Golden Ears Trials. In the wetter periods, usually late August, as the summer spread toward fall, long banana slugs would appear in the forest. They get the name because they are yellow and brown, like an overripe banana. My dad hated slugs, and we'd happily take turns swatting them away from the tent with a branch or log. If you poke a slug, it recoils. The little antennae suck back into the head, and it curls into a tight little ball.
That's what my guts felt like when Mariko set her hands under my navel.
You are sensitive here.
Yes.
The solar plexus is our power source, Manipura, below the ribs and above the belly button. Below the navel is where the sacral chakra resides. The second chakra is responsible for the womb, fertility, creation, self-expression, emotions, and boundaries. The emotion that resides in this area is guilt.
You have not been in your happy place since this time last year, Clara said in the last voice memo. You can let others in, but know where you stand. Boundaries, Girl. I'm over here, and you can be you over there.
Mariko hummed as she pressed down gently on either side of my abdomen. She used her whole palm, no fingers, to keep the pressure even and consistent.
You cannot eat cold foods. Only warm foods. Do you understand?
I nodded.
You have a very sensitive stomach. Your digestion is strong, though you are very sensitive in this area.
Should I do more core strengthening exercises?
No, that is higher up. You are strong; you are very good in health. Less exercise and more rest; this is what you need. Take a break.
She gently removed the pins and stroked back my hair from my face as she spoke.
Ok, we are done for today. Do you have any questions?
I had so many questions.
No, you have given me a lot to consider.
I got dressed quietly as Mariko set the instruments she used aside. We walked in the dark to the foyer, where Mariko opened a window to let the light in. I booked two more sessions for the same day and time in the following weeks. I thanked Mariko, and she bowed as she saw me out the door.
Ruptures cleave an opening in the exhibition of the mind. The body is wise; it's the intellect that is weak. Yoga is a mental test; the trick is to move past the physical into the articulation of nerves. Anyone who focuses on the poses, the grandiose acrobatics, is missing the entire point.
Each posture is a letter from an energetic alphabet. I do yoga to massage my organs, encourage the nadis flow, and inquire into the subconscious.
In the absence of movement, a mantra will do it. This is my practice for the coming days- to fill myself with song.
This is what mantra is, to consume the sacred energetically.
Clara always says that people are wounded and do not have the tools or understanding to heal. Yoga, mantra, reiki, meditation, acupuncture, martial arts; the list of instruments is endless, though; if you don't know, how do you know what question to ask?
How do you know what or how to reverse if you cannot see the direction that you are headed?
And if you don't have roots to come back to, why would you ever escort a rupture OR rapture? Love is so liberating if you can tuck in your wings and retreat to your nest. Hansel and Gretal had a trial of candy crumbs to guide them homeward. The trick is to teach people to create and connect to their own manner in return.
You must leave and then come back.
You must give it all up to know what true lack is.
You must encounter disgust to know what gets you going!
It takes guts to live, as Gurmuhk says.
Photo source.
