A beautiful outdoor labyrinth walk, with a friend, gave me an insight into bodywork.
The labyrinth is on a huge terrace, in the hills above San Anselmo. Walking it feels like floating, suspended above the trees.
For those who have yet to incorporate this practice, the walk is an ideal expression of life’s journey.
One step, another, forward, at my own pace. If the path changes direction unexpectedly, I might lose my balance or feel disoriented. For a time, the path seems predictable, but another surprise turn comes and my perspective changes.
My temptation is to anticipate turns, but eventually I find that “sweet spot” of surrendering to what IS.
At the center, I sit, aware of a rhythm in my body and breath, established on the walk. I feel a subtle vibration, a profound still point, where my body breathes, has weight, and my mind is quiet. I open my eyes to receive my reward: an intimate view of Mt. Tamalpais. She seems close enough to touch, as I float there, in time and space, under a blue sky.
To hear an audio version of this blogpost, click HERE.
After my walk, I saw a massage client. The rhythm, pace, and view of the walk were still immediate, as I began the session. The visualization, concentric circles, meandering toward the center, guided the session. My hands seemed to “walk” the labyrinth of my client’s body.
At the end of the session, I placed my hands on her ankles. I found that same still point, from the center of the labyrinth. Our bodies were at home, in deep breath. Our minds were quiet, and the earth embraced and supported our practice.
And here is the insight: a massage session, much like a labyrinth, has aspects that are familiar and have been touched before, but each step, each stroke, is new. Each new revelation, or reconciled memory, is a reward.
Massage is more than bodywork.