to indulge

I have a friend who used to have a massage every week.
she'd have the masseuse come to her home every tuesday afternoon, where my friend kept her massage table ready and waiting in a spare bedroom.
I know people do things like this, but to think of allowing myself such a luxury was just mind boggling.

I do think of massages as luxuries. they are treats, bonuses, things to enjoy every once in a great while. one time, quite a while back, a masseuse tried to convince me that therapeutic massage is best done weekly (or more often), but it just never seemed to me to be an expense I could justify. it has always remained in the category I call indulgences.

I had a massage yesterday, though, that made me rethink the entire concept of pampering. it was the ultimate pleasure, ninety minutes of exquisite relaxation and sensual stimulation. quiet music, rich and exotic scents, hot stones and towels, and the pressure of knowledgeable hands smoothing my skin and softening my muscles. it was an experience of pure joy and release: I just let myself be, and let the experience sink deep into my very self.

I just might be able to fit one of those into my week, every week . . . someday . . .

so up percolates the question: why is it that so many of us deny ourselves this kind of experience? obviously the expense is one issue that needs to be addressed. but beyond that, I still experience an inner resistance to these kind of luxuries. is it about deserving them or not? or that so many others aren't able to do this, why should I? is it that I don't want to be seen as someone who spoils herself in this way? I truly don't know.

I'll ponder this, as I save up my quarters and dollars for my next visit to jenni, the wonder masseuse. if I arrive at the answer, I'll let you know.