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  • Writer's pictureTiffany S.

A Story About Why I Do What I Do

One day, I had …a day. Well, not an entire day. More like …a moment.

A moment that turned into a of couple hours. Hours of hurt and sudden sadness. It was words that got me good this time. I allowed someones words to hurt me deeply. They hit me hard. And ironically their not so nice words were about their perception of my not so polite words. But their words felt sharp because I didn’t believe my words were hurtful and I had no intention, nor do I ever, of hurting others. So, in response to their hurtful words, I played hard. I acted calm yet there was obvious anger in my voice which I raised a bit to emphasize a point BUT I was determined NOT to let them know they hurt me.

So I stood tall and I waited.

I held my strength and I waited until I was alone. And as soon as I was I burst into quiet tears. I cried silently and powerfully. I cried for a while. I cried to the point where I could hardly breathe. I thought about all the hurts and worries I’d felt over the past week and realized I’d been holding it all in, like I sometimes do. Like we ALL sometimes do, don’t we? Most of it had zero to do with the recent conversation or person. It’s that I just so happened to be ready to let it ALL out, apparently.

Often, it’s those who love us and who we love most who hurt us and vice versa, the most. They know about all of the worst things we’ve ever said and done. They know all about their perceptions and old stories about us, whether true or untrue. They also know how to push our buttons. And even though we know them and they know us better than most and we know how capable we all are of hurting one another with simple words, we still do.

So, here I was, a grown adult, honestly surprised by how a simple conversation could get me so upset. And after I let it ALL out and went through a solid number of tissues, I sat still in my chair and began staring at an object. I stopped thinking and just stared. As I focused on this object, I focused on slowing my breath. I began breathing more deeply. And to my surprise I found …calm.

The object that I found myself staring at just so happened to be an old magazine that is titled “Breathe”. So, in the midst of my tears I was able to crack a smile and gently laugh because at that moment, I was fully aware that the two really important things I needed to do were to slow down and just… breathe.

And right about that moment when I reached this calm state, I got to thinking that THIS is a big reason why I do what I do in my career. I don’t offer counseling. I offer something else that is powerful… aside from no words (haha)… silence (haha)… and asking my clients to breath… I offer the power of touch. And I can do this for, not only clients, but loved ones too (ya know… the ones this story is about).

I often say that my clients help me as much as I help them because GIVING a massage to me is very meditative and calming. I’m so glad I can help others this way. I mean, humans can be so hurtful… work life can be so stressful… and life can be so chaotic… And I get to help shift back a little balance, calm and peace to the overstimulated head and heart. I’m thankful for that. And I’m thankful for my loved ones in spite of their sometimes hurtful words about my hurtful words about their hurtful words… and on and on.

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