In dimmed lights and hushed sounds of flutes and rain, sore and tired I lay naked on her table, with my eyes closed, shutting out the world.
The healer knows me now. She sensed my state of mind with one glance.
She rubbed me down with sweet lavender to ease the aches and pains.
She read my body with her hands, worked the knots in my back, the tightness in my shoulders, and the stiffness in my neck.
As her hands moved she barely touched the sun spot over my left breast, but it triggered chaos: My lips quivered, and my eyes wept as a garbled sob escaped my throat. Uncomprehending, I felt my heart crack with a muffled wail.
She stilled; then moved one hand over my heart while the other reached for mine, and she waited until I could hear her breathing, a wordless comfort; an invitation to calm. I inhaled peace, and exhaled grief to her rhythm until reason seemed to return.
When the final sigh left with a stutter, she brought her hands to my face, wiped my tears gently with her fingers, air kissed a mother’s kiss above my forehead and smoothed my brow. Lastly, she cupped my ears and rubbed them with her thumbs; I felt an irrepressible smile come to my lips.
Eyes still shut to the outside world I was a child again, skipping in sunshine and carefree.