I feel like stepping back and seeing this client from 30,000 feet. So I start with their feet today.
I ignore who I am. I ignore what I am supposed to be doing. I let me hands be simple, my face passive, I hold the feet like I would hold a piece of bread as I sit by a city lake, allowing the city sounds to wash around me, the afternoon sun reflecting off of the water and onto my face and hands, my hands holding the bread that I may throw to the ducks.
Lazily and present.
I notice that the feet mean little to me still, I am reminded of when my daughter exclaimed that she did not notice any individual smells while walking in a forest; so we encouraged her to go slow. I encourage myself to go slow.
I begin to notice the ebb and flow, a magnetic force, gentle yet unmistakable, pushing and tugging at my fingertips.
I am reminded of words I once heard from an old athlete: “Don’t focus on what you think your body is doing, focus on what you feel.” Those words stuck to me then and come back to me now.
I don’t feel my fingers, or hands, I focus only on sensation until the ebb and flow is throughout me. At this point, when my beingness is part of the same web that makes up the client, do I ask what is going on.
I then travel the web with the inner eyes of the physicist, with the instinctual gut of the animal, and with a gentle caring heart.