Six Weeks In

We are six weeks into the new year, and I have successfully achieved one thing from my list of intentions. At this rate, I better live until I’m 247, but no matter. I got a hot stone massage. Courtesy of a gift card from my lovely Auntie, I set an appointment at Ra Organic Spa. Sounds intimidating, no? Turns out, it’s a rather intimate-size retreat located within shouting distance of Ikea. Not that there is any shouting allowed.

I spent the whole massage waiting for this moment:

via facebodyandsole.co.uk

Hot stones placed along my spine. I was so curious to know how that would feel. I also conveniently pictured my back to be as svelte as the one in the photo. Alas, neither expectation came to pass.

Instead, I had the oddest, albeit relaxing, massage of my life.

Hot rocks, covered by a thin towel, were placed on the massage table in the area over which my lower to upper back were to cover. When the masseuse left the room and I positioned myself as instructed, I may have moved some of the stones. Regardless, within moments I felt an odd tingling– no, that was BURNING – on my back. For a while, I thought maybe the pain is part of the experience, like in Thai massage or when walking on hot coals. When I could stand it no longer, I timidly mentioned the discomfort. A second towel was rapidly shoved underneath me. It alleviated the pain, but then I felt a bit lopsided. Huh.

Rocks were placed on top of the sheet covering me, at my lower belly and hip joints. Every time I took a deep breath, however, the rock on my belly would roll off. I couldn’t decide whether to cry for the lack of a concave stomach or laugh at the Flintstones-like absurdity of it all.

Then there was the MASSAGE part of it which was, well, also… odd. The masseuse used hot stones coated in oils, instead of her hands, to work my muscles. The warmth was nice; the speed with which the rocks passed over my skin prevented any pain from the heat. But it kind of felt like a sponge bath or… something. The smoothness of the stones, rather than comforting, seemed unnatural, like when you touch the belly of a stingray. Also, there were moments when the masseuse’s long nails would accidentally gouge into my skin. Again… Huh.

NEVER ONCE did I get to feel warm rocks placed along my naked spine.

So disappointing.

Short of stumbling upon a nude beach covered in sun-baked, fist-sized pebbles and encountering a willing passerby to satisfy my curiosity, I think I will just let this one go.

I have had the hot stone massage. It is done. I do not need to experience it again. Next time I enter a spa, it will be for a facial or the old standby – a Swedish.

via London Features International

That way, I will not come home and gasp in horror upon discovering that my back resembles that of Gwyneth Paltrow in her cupping days.

Actually, I accept the large, angry, red circle on my back. It will fade in time. While it remains, it reminds me of what happens when I ignore pain. And it is proof of action. That makes me smile.

Have you satisfied any of your intentions for 2010 and beyond? If so, what? And how was your experience?

Be Sociable, Share!

•