Yesterday, I had a mud bath at a spa in Calistoga, California. I lay in the clay, peat moss, and 104 degree mineral water for ten minutes, rinsed, and lay wrapped in a warm blanket in a dark room–a cocoon of sorts–for a half hour. As I relaxed, I realized it was a good time to tell my cells that they could stop living a somatically-stressed life. The operation I had as an infant happened long ago and it was time that they stop marinating in PTS energy. In other words, it was time to be normal.
Later, lying on a lounge chair on the spa roof, I saw a large bird circling high in the heavens and heard a songbird serenading in a nearby tree. I stretched my limbs and the sun warmed me completely. I felt uninhibited and free. My middle, the place around my scar, seemed unstuck. A density that I have always felt there was no longer compressing me; lightness had wafted in.
For a few moments, I felt as though I never had an operation. My middle existed in equal proportion to every other part of my body. A moment of normalcy had arrived –feeling balanced, light, and free. I was simply me, Wendy, happy to be healthy. Happy to be alive, enjoying everything we have been given.