The lights were dim.
Waves of ambient music washed over me.
My body was nestled under a heated blanket.
A solid two minutes into the facial I realized my jaw was clenched, my teeth grinding, my neck stiff, my shoulders so hunched they melded with my ears.
I was reminded of a recent conversation I had with Big Sis as I had an emotional breakdown in the condiments aisle of the 7th Street Giant. (However, that is a story for another day.)
She pointed out that I have a “hereditary” tendency to jackknife between dwelling on the past and worrying about the future. Meanwhile the present is a fly in my peripheral radar.
My problem is I do not live in the moment.
As I unclenched my fists under the warm, soft folds of the blanket, I allowed that perhaps Big Sis was on to something.
It had been an epically crappy day, preceded by several high stress, unpleasant weeks. But here I was in the lap of indulgent restoration. I should be embracing this moment. Move on from that which has passed. Let go of that which I cannot control. (That last one is a real toughie for me.)
I can do this. I released my shoulders. I took a deep, cleansing breath.
The spa’s usual zen jungle soundtrack was, today, interspersed with instrumental versions of 1940’s movie scores. As the music from Gone with the Wind wafted over me, I was Vivian Leigh on the MGM soundstage. I pulled deep from within and as my eyes swelled with tears in harmony with the music swelling to a crescendo, I swore – “As god is my witness, I will live in the moment!”.
And I did.
Right up to the purifying face mask when I mentally reviewed the schedule for the coming weekend.