Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Healing again

Dear sisters,

Back from our summer traveling, I have been catching up on healing, as if my life depended on it, and, if I am to believe one or two of the healers I have seen, maybe it does.

The massage from God.

I have so far, had two efficient 30-minute massages by
Ketut Arsana, who is the man of the Bodyworks emporium. You always have to book ahead. The massage involves waiting, until the short, long-bearded man with sparkly eyes, arrives, to lead you past the chained upside-down bat, past the fish, past the herb boxes, under the beaded curtains, up the stairs and more stairs, to the roof where you are led into his little room of dark timber, with bookcases full of books, and a single massage table. He gestures, without talking, for you to undress, completely, and so you step, in glorious nakedness, with hardly a modesty sheet, onto the table, and then he begins. No faffing around with introductory strokes. It is different for everyone, but with me it involved Ketut walking over my back a lot. Now, this is a good massage.

Aryuvedic consult with Uma.

I am a mixed body type: Vahta, Pitta, and Kahpa, ratio 1:2:3, but mostly at this time I need to balance Vahta. This means breathing exercises at dawn, lots of swimming in cool water and no strenuous yoga in the afternoons. Resting between 2 and 6 and a daily massage if possible. No dairy or spicy foods, no tomatoes or bananas. I am to avoid too much travel, any kind of stimulation or sensory overload. That will have to be after Burning man, then.

Also some energy work is suggested, as I have suspected blockages behind the heart.

Pak Man

Pak Man lives in my street. It is the second house up the path, past the laundry. Behind the walls a garden lies, with twinkling wind chimes and bird-filled cages in the trees. You sit cross-legged on the patio and make small talk with Pak Man’s english speaking female partner, who translates, as Pak man closes his eyes, chain-smoking, now and then flicking his long grey ponytail with the back of his hand, muttering a question or advice when it comes up.

We speak of the body being a car, driven by the mind. If the car crashes, it is not the car’s fault.

Pak Man at some point stands up and walks around his garden, hacks off a coconut with a big knife, walks inside, closes the glass doors, and then, brusquely, the curtains. After a long while, small talk is really done by now, I am invited inside.

Pak Man gives me the most painful massage I have ever had, cracks and clicks every bone in my body including the bones on the top of my hands and my feet, and then finally makes me eat two flowers followed by a glass of young coconut juice and then another glass of what seems like water with glycerin floating on top. “Pak Man medicine” his partner explains, with no intention of revealing the ingredients.

She continues to translate, after she lights another cigarette of her own, blowing fresh smoke into the air: "Right, so, ..Pak Man says you are not doing well"

My pancreas is blocked, there is salt in my kidneys and the root of the cancer has not gone. But! Do not despair, she says; "Pak Man can work on it."

He could not open everything in my body during this session, as it was still too painful for me, but I could return. In the meantime I should drink young coconut juice every day and have a good time.

When all else fails: eye-lash extension

I drove down to Seminyak and lay on a reclining chair, listening to French chansons for ninety minutes, while a sweet girl took great care to stick hair extensions onto each one of my measly eyelashes.

So far, but I am still processing all the information, I have recognized the need for many massages and am considering the daily coconut juice. I have also gracefully accepted the compliments for my eyes, although showering with goggles is a nuisance.

I leave for San Francisco and Burning Man tonight. When we return, I intend to go to one or two of the energy healers in and around Ubud and the recommended Chinese acupuncturist in the South. Just to get them all in before we go.

S3, I see you on this sweet island, when I return.
If you travel safe, so will I.


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