In the Beginning, Granny's Hands....

  Massage and Bodywork changed my life.  I often wonder who I would have become if I had not had the good fortune to have been introduced to this ancient and wonderful dimension of being human.  

  When I was little boy in rural Mississippi, my mother frequently left me and my brother in the care of "Granny", an African American woman who was over one hundred years old, (really)! She was full of warmth, love and vitality.  She lived alone on a neighboring farm and was always as happy to see us as we were to see her.   I was an energetic and nervous child, and would inevitably end up with some kind complaint, a head ache, a stomach ache, or a bo-bo from falling off the porch or out of her fig tree.  To treat this, Granny had something much better than the bottle of baby aspirin or Peptol-Bismol that my parents usually took out for these complaints.  Granny used her hands!

  She would have me lie on the floor or on the day bed and then settle down beside me.  She would ask me to close my eyes before she said a prayer. She then she placed the palms of her beautiful old hands on the area that hurt.  

Granny's hands were always so warm the instant she touched me, and soon they got very, very warm.

Then her hands got big.  I never peeked, but it felt like her hands became a blanket that covered all of me.  It was hard to know where I ended and her hands began as they got bigger and bigger.  It was like being in a house and then a church that was her hands.  I would feel like I was expanding outward with her hands.  All was calm and warmth and peace.  No pain.  No complaint.  Sometimes Granny would sing or hum a song while she gave me her hands. Sometimes we would just listen to the wind blowing  or the breeze ringing the homemade wind chimes on her porch.  I would eventually feel "normal" again after a few minutes.  I became just me and her hands became her hands again.  I would get up, completely renewed and feeling clear and alive...

  I loved these times with "Granny" so much, that I'm sure I was looking for any pretext for her to give me "hands".  One day she told me that she knew that there wasn't really anything wrong with me, that I should give her "hands".  I said that I didn't know how.  She said that that was nonsense, that everybody knew how. They just had to remember how.  It was just like breathing.... That it was just a matter of breathing and listening.  

  Granny sat down in a chair and I got down on the floor in front of her.  Her left knee was hurting. She told me to ask "The Good Lord " to bless us and I did.  She then told me to put my palms on her knee and to breathe and let my spirit do the work..  She closed her eyes and smiled peacefully. I didn't know if I was doing well but since she was smiling, I guessed it was alright.  She must have sensed my doubt, because right then, she told me I had "such good hands".  That was all I needed.  I just sat there with my palms on her knee, proud and happy.

After a while, she said she felt so much better, and thanked me for my "wonderful hands".

I learned that day, that giving "hands" is as wonderful as receiving them.

......That it's all just a matter of breathing and listening.