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On Leaving

I am a nervous traveler.  There’s a whole checklist I go through before a long trip of any kind.  This starts about two weeks out from my departure date.  The list includes necessary things like leaving a check for the pet sitter and taking out the garbage.  But the bulk of the list consists of things like checking  that my (brand new) passport has not expired, searching my email for flight confirmation information, counting pairs of socks, checking my passport, picking up and putting down my suitcase, and checking my passport.

With all of this nervous energy, I sometimes find it hard to focus.  Ever.  I imagine in my brain a rubber pinball being batted around by ADD mice with tennis rackets.  And I thank goodness for the respite of clients.  In session, I can find my lost focus and be in the present moment, no matter what is going on with my passport.

In between, though.  Oh my goodness.  Today, after a deeply focused session, I stepped out to get my client a glass of water and within 30 seconds I FORGOT WHERE I WAS.  Fortunately my brain still picks up on context clues and no client was left dehydrated.

I find it interesting that my work is both what makes it necessary for me to travel and what makes it possible for me to function while I am worried about the travel.  It is both respite, and the author of the need for respite.  I am grateful for both.

I am also grateful to everyone who trusts me with their bodies and their wellness.  I’m leaving for a while, but I’m coming back to continue to earn that trust, every day, every session.

This last week before I go, I am touched by the kind words and generosity of every one of my clients.  I have been wished safety, peace, renewal, fun and all good things you could possibly get from travel.  And  — most important to me — I have been assured that I will be missed, and my return will be a happy occasion.

Even before I leave, then, I am looking forward to coming home again with my new eyes and new knowledge — ready to be a better, focused, more aware massage therapist for everyone.

Until then, like this blog post, I remain joyfully scattered.

Now, where is my passport . . . .

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