in which we rise and shine.
Aug. 28th, 2007 06:52 ami heard creaking as slow little footsteps started up the stairs.
i'd already been awake for nearly an hour, and fighting it, because i was still. so. tired. from nearly five hours of massage (half of it deep work) yesterday. but i couldn't disappoint those little feet.
"Come on in. I'm awake. I've been awake for a while, now."
"It's beautiful. We could sell tickets from the back porch. Such a good view."
I slowly slid out of bed, and began to clear off my window seat on auto-pilot... moving the fan, moving the laundry basket full of clean clothes (apparently working five hours in one day and coming home looking like something the cat dragged in, entitles you to one free use of Mother's Laundry Service), saying "By the way, thank you" to my mom for the laundry basket of clean clothes...
we curled up in front of my window, watched the eclipse, and chatted about nothing in particular. then we went downstairs and had coffee, swapping sections of newspaper.
--
i only had three clients yesterday.
(are you doing the math?)
my second client requested that we make his 1.5 hour deep tissue massage into a _2_ hour deep tissue massage. i'm still not sure why i agreed to it, other than he really did need the work, and was obviously loving the pressure. i warned him and warned him he was probably going to be sore today, but i hope not too much.
my third client was setting up at the Fair and came in very late; i'd agreed to take such a late appointment on a Monday because our dojo is closed this week (and yes, it feels very weird to be up so early anyway, and not kicking or punching anything).
when she asked if we could make her hour appointment into an hour and a half, I tried not to wince and said "Well, normally I'd say 'Sure', but I did two hours of deep tissue this morning. Let's see how it goes, OK?" she agreed.
then i found out why she was there. she'd injured her spinal cord, and been in a wheelchair for many years. she was told she'd never walk again. but she forced herself out of that chair, and proved them all wrong. i later found out that she'd injured her back by when a non-ambulatory patient fell on her: another nurse.
there was no question about doing the extra thirty minutes, if she wanted it, at that point.
--
all i can say is, when you set an intention, be very, very careful. it's altogether likely to come true.
i set an intention, while still in school, that i didn't want to do a ton of hours a week, and that the work i did would be solid, meaningful work. i wanted to be able to help people who really needed me, especially people who were out there helping others; i have a special awe for people who give their all in jobs i don't think i could survive, that i'm obviously unsuited for, or just couldn't bring myself to do.
it therefore really shouldn't surprise me this much that the majority of my clientele have been policemen, fireman, nurses, surgeons, military, paramedics, etc.
--
there was a point on Sunday when i pushed the Record button on my day. i was riding my bike furiously fast down an incline, wind streaming past, all the clouds were puffy and white against an outrageously robin's egg-blue sky, and i said "This. I need to remember this, when we have four feet of snow..."
i've been pushing that button a lot lately.
i'd already been awake for nearly an hour, and fighting it, because i was still. so. tired. from nearly five hours of massage (half of it deep work) yesterday. but i couldn't disappoint those little feet.
"Come on in. I'm awake. I've been awake for a while, now."
"It's beautiful. We could sell tickets from the back porch. Such a good view."
I slowly slid out of bed, and began to clear off my window seat on auto-pilot... moving the fan, moving the laundry basket full of clean clothes (apparently working five hours in one day and coming home looking like something the cat dragged in, entitles you to one free use of Mother's Laundry Service), saying "By the way, thank you" to my mom for the laundry basket of clean clothes...
we curled up in front of my window, watched the eclipse, and chatted about nothing in particular. then we went downstairs and had coffee, swapping sections of newspaper.
--
i only had three clients yesterday.
(are you doing the math?)
my second client requested that we make his 1.5 hour deep tissue massage into a _2_ hour deep tissue massage. i'm still not sure why i agreed to it, other than he really did need the work, and was obviously loving the pressure. i warned him and warned him he was probably going to be sore today, but i hope not too much.
my third client was setting up at the Fair and came in very late; i'd agreed to take such a late appointment on a Monday because our dojo is closed this week (and yes, it feels very weird to be up so early anyway, and not kicking or punching anything).
when she asked if we could make her hour appointment into an hour and a half, I tried not to wince and said "Well, normally I'd say 'Sure', but I did two hours of deep tissue this morning. Let's see how it goes, OK?" she agreed.
then i found out why she was there. she'd injured her spinal cord, and been in a wheelchair for many years. she was told she'd never walk again. but she forced herself out of that chair, and proved them all wrong. i later found out that she'd injured her back by when a non-ambulatory patient fell on her: another nurse.
there was no question about doing the extra thirty minutes, if she wanted it, at that point.
--
all i can say is, when you set an intention, be very, very careful. it's altogether likely to come true.
i set an intention, while still in school, that i didn't want to do a ton of hours a week, and that the work i did would be solid, meaningful work. i wanted to be able to help people who really needed me, especially people who were out there helping others; i have a special awe for people who give their all in jobs i don't think i could survive, that i'm obviously unsuited for, or just couldn't bring myself to do.
it therefore really shouldn't surprise me this much that the majority of my clientele have been policemen, fireman, nurses, surgeons, military, paramedics, etc.
--
there was a point on Sunday when i pushed the Record button on my day. i was riding my bike furiously fast down an incline, wind streaming past, all the clouds were puffy and white against an outrageously robin's egg-blue sky, and i said "This. I need to remember this, when we have four feet of snow..."
i've been pushing that button a lot lately.