Something interesting for those of you following along at home.
Last week, I had a really sore throat and bad earache.
Interestingly enough, only the left side of my throat and my left ear were affected.
Flash forward to this week, and Middle-age butch has had a killer headache. But only on the left side of my head.
I mentioned all of this to W, explaining how the right side, or dominant side, of the body is the will side or active side. The left side is the feeling side.
“It’s in and out,” she said matter of factly. “You’re not processing things properly, baby.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?” she asked.
“What am I supposed to do about it?” I replied.
“Is there some sort of magic dance that I’m supposed to do to restore balance and harmony?”
She just laughed.
Which leaves me stuck. Again.
I went to pick up my son today and had been thinking about how to get unstuck during the 30-minute drive.
“Maybe I should try Reiki,” I thought to myself. Not because I know a lot about it, but because, from what little I do know, it seems like it might be a useful tool for restoring balance.
When the left side of various body parts start hurting, lots of things seem like a good idea.
A few seconds later, I passed a sign that read: “Reiki. Restore peace to your life.”
Sometimes I think that I’m the only person in the whole world who asks for a sign from God and actually gets one. Seriously. An actual sign.
This happens to me all the time.
From the International Center for Reiki Training: “Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by ‘laying on hands’ and is based on the idea that an unseen ‘life force energy’ flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one’s ‘life force energy’ is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy.”
So, the “laying on hands” part is not particularly appealing to this butch. Simply put, I don’t like to be touched. By hands. Or other body parts. I’m aware that in some cases hands are placed above the participant’s body during a Reiki session. This is still too close for my personal level of comfort.
Also, the smell of incense makes me nervous. I’m fairly certain that a Reiki session would smell like incense.
I remember about a decade ago when I woke up one morning and couldn’t hear out of one of my ears. Hysterical deafness, I thought.
Or, maybe watching too much of the L Word when Marlee Matlin was on. Oh my God, sympathetic deafness, I thought.
I rushed to the doctor where I was diagnosed with a bad case of impacted ear wax.
The doctor ended up rummaging through a closet (who knew doctors had closets) for a metal gun that looked like it might have been used in the sci-fi classic Forbidden Planet. He filled it with warm water, placed the tip in my ear and then blasted a pressurized stream of water inside my ear canal. Repeatedly. Pliers were involved, I think. The doctor kept saying that he was sorry, hang in there. Eventually, the water dislodged the wax, and the doctor extracted a large mass from my ear. I could hear. It was a miracle.
That method seems a whole lot more palatable than the whole “laying on hands” thing. Maybe I can just blast whatever’s stuck, or in the wrong place, or out of whack with a pressurized stream of water, a laser beam, a rubber mallet, brute force, a lighter and a can of hairspray, whatever it takes.
That’s certainly not as scary as Reiki, which may or may not involve actual touching. Or incense. Or chimes. Or other new-agey stuff.
Which is why it’s so damn scary. Because I don’t know what will happen.
And, what if it does work and provides a much-needed release?
What if I tear up or, gasp, cry. Middle-age butch doesn’t like to be touched and really doesn’t like to cry. Especially in front of people. Especially new-agey, Reiki people.
There is no crying in Middle-age butch’s flannel-covered world.
I suspect that there might be in Reiki land.