whispering at the prayer table.

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my knowledgeable sweet little PhD physiotherapist is a bone whisperer. 

of this, i am sure. 

she asks me how are you since your last visit? 

she encourages me when i am able to perform higher weight repetitions. 

she easily chats about life as it comes on life's terms. 

but the real magic happens when she lays hands upon me. 

it has happened more than once that the day after soft tissue massage

my bones have shifted one tiny step forward. 

one tiny improvement. 

but, you see, it's more than massage and easy chatter between 

professional and client. 

something happens......in the space between hands-to-skin and the speaking. 

it's like she is whispering that healing into my very being, into my cells. 

as i lay in bed last night, in the quiet, all alone, 

it occurred to me that i must do what i can to help myself, to decrease the pain, 

to offload my bones and joints. 

it is all fine and good for me to seek medical treatment, 

but i cannot make it the responsibility of the medical profession to 

cure everything in my body. 

if there is something i can do myself to help the situation be better, 

i shall do it. 

so, henceforth, i move to my prayer table today, 

you know, 

the one where i sat this past summer painting all those feathers.

the table where i sat uttering prayer with each and every stroke of pen and paint. 

i commit to doing what i can to improve my situation. 

today, tea, water, more tea, rice, and whispered prayer. 

feathers, ink, brushes, paint. 

and, commitment and faith. 

******