Would You Like A Massage From Da Vinci?

I arrive first. I’m always early (well, for most things) and today is no different. One by one people arrive and politely greet each other.

I’m interested to observe that we, for reasons best known to societal psychologists and the like, begin to form a circle, without prompting or verbalising. Each person knows to modify their position and orientation to accommodate newcomers to the circle.

There are twelve of us in total. It’s cold and we are all deeply happy when the automatic doors finally slide open, with the inviting smile of a slim man promising warmth beyond the doorway.

This is day one of a weekend massage course.

 

After a “chi ball workout”, waving and weaving a ball in the air in front and around my body to loosen up, we get down to business.

The group is directed to break up into pairs, with each pair being allocated a massage table each.

As the day progresses, we, in our respective pairs, take turns to both massage and be massaged, as the techniques are explained, demonstrated and then walked through, as we perform them, by the instructor (the slim man).

The second day runs along in a similar vein, but this time we are encouraged to consolidate what was learned on the first day, with additional techniques to integrate into our massage routine. The weekend culminates in an assessment of our ability, technique and execution of the techniques taught.

No one fails. Not even me! Each individual receives a certificate and encouragement to continue with successive courses which are available through the college. I might!

It was an interesting and fun weekend. Having never had a massage myself prior to attending this course, I had no real concept of what to expect. It was well delivered, with the instructor being patient, clear and professional.

I found though, even as a nurse, I felt a little uncomfortable with massaging a person in certain areas. There was one massage stroke we were taught where we were to sweep up the back of the leg and across the lower part of the butt cheeks, another where we massaged up the inner thigh and another where we would sweep across the back and down under the arm in the area close to the breast.

Even in being mindful of where my hands were and being sure to not allow them to be taking any inappropriate journeys, it still felt very alien to me. The lady I was partnered with was great, very relaxed and professional, but the risk of making another person feel ill at ease made me feel awkward.

I’m sure if I decide to venture further with my masseur training I’ll get more comfortable with these aspects.

But massage is just one of my many interests.

In a recent conversation, I was telling someone of my plans to attend this massage course and their response caused me to pause a little.

“Oh, massage? You’re doing massage now?”

The basic message, from how I interpreted the interaction, was that this person felt I was doing too many different things and had too many different interests. Oh dear.

Yes, my life is fairly full. That’s partly why I don’t blog very often. But it is a choice I have made, and a series of choices I continue to make, that I want to live a full, varied and rich life.

I work full time. I have a photography business I operate part time. I am studying AUSLAN (Australian Sign Language). In the last couple of weeks I have seen the stage shows Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Jesus Christ Superstar. This weekend I intend to paint a couple of canvases. I am exercising as often and consistently as I can (now at a loss of approximately 33 /34kg). I write. I blog (yes, sometimes!). And I do a million other things.

Perhaps my passion for so many different aspects of life would make me a “Da Vinci”, a term given to people who seem to be able to turn their hand to any and all interests. Or perhaps I am a chaotic person with elements of ADD or even bipolar behavioural tendencies. Or maybe I’m just a guy who genuinely enjoys life and is curious about the fascinating world we live in.

All in the eye of the beholder, but I am content with life.

Now, who is for a massage from Da Vinci?