Acupuncture Appointment
Markiko - June (2)
Part 5.

See how one, it is short, staccato. And the other side is much longer; it is pure. Relax, put your head down. I will do your leg meridians today.

I press my cheeks into the soft leather face rest so my eyelashes stick to my face. My palms are facing upright by my thighs. Mariko has that metal wand, the one with the round tip, and she is running it along the soles of my feet. She gently holds the foot in one hand and adjusts my heel's angle so my toes are all pressed down to the cushion.

This here is the problem, she murmurs. I don't need her to clarify what the problem is. I feel it; I know.

My right foot is shaped like a diamond: the big toe angles outwards, and the bone juts to the left. When I point my foot, the result is four points from the tip to heel and wide on either side. Diamond. My arches on both feet are very high, and I have to work hard in leg balancing postures to press the outer edge of my foot into the ground—the pinky-toe side.

Clara was the first teacher to show me how to do that. I'd been in Virabhadrasana II (warrior 2), and she positioned herself at my back foot. She'd placed the outer edge of her foot to mine and said, press into me. Harder! Root down through the knife edge of your foot.

I used the same trick on students when I was teaching.

My feet don't roll inward anymore, though there's not much I can do about the diamond. A doctor offered to break my big toe and shave the bone down so my foot was symmetrical with the left side. I declined. I can walk fine; I have no pain; my foot looks strange. Why break what works well? The recovery after such a procedure is up to six months with crutches and no weight on the leg. I could not endure it!

Mariko set the Japanese pins in the meridians along my legs from heels to hips. She set a few around my lower ribs and the scalenes at the side of my neck. She used the metal wand to rub behind my ears as in the previous appointment.

In one week, between sessions, my appetite came back. The stain on my diaphragm lessened, the nerves relaxed, and the stomach meridian cleared. I've been eating heartily. Quinoa salads with corn and avocado and halloumi cheese. Salted caramel milkshakes with a shot of espresso. Tartine sandwiches with French bread, bean sprouts, hummus, and artichoke. Dark cocoa with cranberry and bitter orange. Blueberries and granola sprinkled over Greek yogurt.

I've swapped my morning coffee to brew Moroccan tea. I eat my first meal around noon and last when the sun sets. Many Ayurvedic doctors say to eat at least three hours before bed. I don't follow that rule. They also say to eat sitting down, though sometimes I prefer standing to lengthen my back if I've been working all day.

It all depends on the conditions you establish for yourself. It's far easier to prescribe a method that's been tested than it is to survey the current circumstances to see what fits and what doesn't.

The doctor who recommended surgery for my foot thought it would be better for me to break it and reset it so it was closer to a shoe's normal appearance and form.

I'd rather wear toe separators at home and footwear with more room.

You will have to make little adjustments your whole life; it isn't one time, and it's done. It's forever.

Even if I had carved my foot into a different shape, I'd still make microchanges based on what was needed post-surgery.

Mariko was down at my feet, tapping around the pins. I felt her lightly remove them and heard the clatter as they hit the metal dish she placed them in once they were removed. She moved up my torso to my neck, and when the last pin was pulled, she asked me to flip over onto my front.

She repeated the same gestures as I settled onto my back, folding the sheets over my torso and tucking each foot into the folds. She brushed my hair back and set my head on the red pillow so my chin was angled slightly down. She pressed her thumbs to my cheekbones and used her fingers to feel along my throat.

I watched her set pins along my shoulders, wrists, and shins. The pins were attached to white threads. Some of the lines had red or blue woven through them.

After checking each pin by lightly touching the skin around the insertion, Mariko moved to the dresser and took out an object that looked like a pen. She lit a candle in a bowl and held the tip of the pen-like object under the flame.

I will give you an abdomen massage now with this.

She removed the pen's tip from the flame and used a small cloth to release the lid. Under the cap was a small roller that she used to create lines that ran lengthwise toward my heart.

I flinched as she moved lower, angling the instrument beside and below my navel. Mariko felt it.

You are sensitive, still. She set the roller wand on the dresser by the candle. Using her fingers, she lightly placed her fingers on my abdomen around my belly button. Something deep inside of me jumped each time her hands moved lower. Outwardly, I was composed and breathing deeply. I recoiled and cringed like a snail retracts into its shell after being poked with a stick.

Your belly is like a cat waiting to pounce! You are uptight. I don't know why. The lines are clear. It may be something to do with stress. You feel alright.

I nodded.

Is this unusual- when do you feel like this in your belly?

All of the time.

Hm. It is not in your body.

How do you know?

I can feel it. The stomach is not blocked anywhere.

What does this mean?

It is in your mind. You have relaxed your body this week and taken rest; now you must do the same for your mind.

Mariko put the cap on the roller and held it to the flame again. Several minutes went by before she removed the lid and rubbed my belly.

Are you stressed about anything? Work?

No.

Hm. What do you focus your attention on during the day?

Different things, depending on what I am doing.

Yes, of course, but aside from that, what do you think about? This is what you must watch in the next week. Think about your thoughts. Where do they come from? Who gave them to you? Do you want them? What are they adding to your life? This is where you focus until I see you again.

As she said this, I heard the patter of the pins falling to the metal dish.

Ok, we are done for today. You may get dressed.

I sat up. The room had dimmed slightly. The sun had shifted since I'd arrived. I got to put my blouse and skirt back on, taking time to wiggle my toes before I slid on my leather espadrilles.

You would not let anyone walk into your home without knocking first; you would asses who it is before letting them in. Mariko said. Your body is the same. Before you accept what someone is saying, pause. Let them knock. You do not need to answer.

Photo source.