Dan Windisch Poems: Massage Dance

Massage Dance
Copyright by Dan Windisch 5/18/00 drdanw@comcast.net updated 1/11/15

I have been a licensed massage therapist for over 25 years.
i  massage friends and family,
those i care about,
for me, massage is too sacred to sell.

A major learning experience of my life was massage.

I learned that,
you memorize a recipe … then become a chef…
learn the the cha cha … then fly and dance dervishly … or slowly.
learn fly fishing …then joyfully easily  cast…
learn touch … and be touched.

i let my hands become instruments
of me, my sensitivity,
and of more than me.

At my best God’s love caring, healing, and peace FLOW through …
my touches, my strokes,
my caring, the depth, the pressure, the flow,
the oil, the music, the relaxation, the letting go, the giving, the being an instrument of love and peace and affirming…
that is massage.

The body I touch … becomes a touched soul …
and in my giving … there is a receiving …  a dance.
what I give flows through me …
the massage i give …
is you … and me …
and more than you … and more than me.
a symphony of strokes, speed, intensity, depth,
an interaction between music, muscle tightness, lightness and depth of touch.

When i receive a massage
i am naked to the world,
not quite napping,
floating in mild mist meditation,
here, not here,
realities, floating, fully, gently, one after another blending purr-fectly
with that long; slow; oiled stroke up my back,
that deep kneading, tight sore, like-a-rope-stuck-tight, then released, loosened shoulder muscle.
My ear rubbed, the ridge of bone never noticed behind my ear, now gently rubbed.
Toes warmly, oily, royally, treated.
Feet adored rolled squeezed pampered.
I purr, relaxed.
Fingers fondled, stretched, squeezed, released.
Hand quietly gently raised and held at the wrist,
arm resting at on the table,
fully relaxed.

Hand turned very slowly in a 12 inch circle…
Fingers and hand SLOWLY open and fold, then open and fold again.
SUCH BEAUTY!!!!! So much truth.
S-L-O-W-L-Y falling back hand opens like a flower unto the sun,
gently unconsciously choreographed peace, and unity, and openness,
then …
slowly falling forward
the fingers hand close cascading… together.
hand/finger falling friends.
in a peaceful relaxed symphony
that is wistfully,
to be beheld,
and felt.

Hair tugged and gently rubbed brings back memories of happy childhood moments…
then the memory is lost in the Joy of THIS moment.

How many wonderful parts of me are there yet to be massaged,
i droolingly, passively, happily, wonder … then forget,
as time loses meaning,
and more parts of me than i ever imagined existed,
are gently touched, explored, cherished and released.

I love massage.

Leave a Reply