Eight Hands

Alright this sounds cheesy.  There is no way around it.  And yet, in the moment it was rich and full and I want to remember it.  Here it is.  The other day a mother was on my table.  She was so tight that her baby was hiking her shoulders sympathetically.  A baby with tight shoulders is so wrong.  I will call the mother Shannon.  The baby girl was crying and ended up breast feeding during the massage.  Shannon's sister was there to make sure the baby did not fall off.  My fingers were deep in Sharon's armpit between the ribs and the shoulder blade working on a very tight and sensitive medial rotator.  The experience was painful but in a way peaceful because it was needed so profoundly.  The baby's mouth and hands where on her mother.  Shannon's hands were on the baby.  The sister's hands were on the baby and the mother.  That's eight hands all together in a pile of intense and attentive support and love.  I drew Shanon's attention to this and we both agreed it was beautiful.  My work is most often beautiful  but this was exceptional.  Thank you. I love this world.