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.
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