Sacred Surprises: Day Three

There's no way I could have known that this day would be one of the best days I've had in years.

I rose at 7:45, again, and lagged slightly, forcing me to choose not to dry my hair to make it to the dining room three minutes late. When I arrived, apparently looking tired again, the Innkeepers had made a fire, lit the candles, and set a place for... me.

I was the only guest.

Rather than ask if I could bring my books with me now, I tried to invite my hosts to join me at the table... which apparently was an odd request. As the lady of this duo came in and out taking my plates and refreshing my coffee, I told her that I had taken her advice the day before. I told her of my visit to that coffeehouse and the antique shop. Then I made the mistake of answering her question...

"So, what are you going to do today?"

"Well, this is my free day before I leave tomorrow. I'm planning to take my trainer's yoga class later this evening, but I thought I'd look around town, maybe get a pedicure-"

"Oh, a pedicure! I have just the place for you," and she proceeded to explain to me about this very nice couple with a very new, clean shop in the Christiansburg WalMart. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that I already had a place in mind. She explained to me how to get there about three times, so, I felt obligated to strengthen whatever business ties she might have with this couple...

...even though it meant going to WalMart.

I called David after breakfast to tell him the trouble into which I had already entangled myself (before 10am). I gathered my things so I wouldn't have to come back to my room until the end of the day... just in case I found some adventure.

So, the place was everything my Innkeeper said it would be. It was new-ish, clean, and run by a very nice couple... whose English made it hard to bother with conversation. I was the only one there, so, I was seated and served immediately. I was led to a large red chair connected to a small tub of hot water. After I sat down, the gentleman pushed a button activating the massage function on the chair... and it was an awful feeling. I am already more sensitive than most people due to my condition, but I can't imagine anyone enjoying the beating this chair was doling out. It was as though brick fists were rhythmically punching me all along my spine. I sent a message to David asking him to please see if he could make me an appointment for a massage at the place I had originally planned to visit for my pedicure. I hadn't had a massage in 10 years, but after a few minutes in that chair, I was willing to give it another try.

After I found the button to turn off the chair, I picked up my book and tried to relax. The lady actually did a very good job (as in two weeks later, my toes are still pretty). She's one of those really talented freaks who can make the straight, white lines of a French pedicure freehand. She told me that I should keep the thin, neon green flipflops she gave me on my feet for a little while longer, to help the paint dry all the way. I paid her and complied with her recommendation.

I actually walked out of WalMart and into the cold air with those ridiculous things on my feet. David sent me a message saying I had an appointment for a massage at 3pm. I checked the hour and saw that I had some time to kill. I decided to go see a movie since the theater was barely a mile down the street. For my time slot, only two movies were available... New Moon or It's Complicated.

I chose It's Complicated.

I purchased my standard Kids Pack... a small soda, popcorn, and fruit snacks all in an easy-to-carry box. I know that's goofy, but I don't need much more than that and I only wanted a little something to tide me over until after the massage. I walked into a theater where only four other people were already seated. I walked towards the middle of an empty row of seats and sat down.

This is the part when my day starts to become wildly significant to me...

The preview for Disney's new nature film Oceans flashed across the screen. Now, I've seen it three times already (I've seen The Frog and the Princess three times... great, vintage Disney hand-drawn animation), so I cannot begin to explain what was suddenly so moving.

I have spoken before in this blog about my opinions on food, animals in particular. I went into the theater with these established beliefs of eating ethically... but I watched this incredible footage of waves of dolphins, swarms of long-haired jellyfish, passenger fish attaching themselves to larger fish for a ride to the other side of the sea... and I started to cry. Again, I have seen this trailer before, but for some reason, it struck a nerve during this screening. Such magnificent creatures who clearly have preferences, feelings for one another, etc. I suddenly felt guilt for the things I knew about how most animals are treated in the slaughtering process... for having participated in that by ordering meat in restaurants, not knowing where or how the animal was raised.

The guilt morphed gradually into this overwhelming joy. Anya would tell you something like the following feeling if you asked her: I realized that I lived in a country where I did not need to eat meat in order to survive, to be healthy. There are still plenty of arguments on both sides for the ethics of food, but I no longer needed to participate. With a clear conscious, I could choose to eat vegetarian from now on.

I have not figured it all out... I can't say that I might not try sushi if I ever find myself at Morimoto's in NYC again, but, in my daily life, I foresee a new way of eating ethically.

I calmed down as the movie started. If you were debating going to see It's Complicated, don't bother. As excited as I was to see Steve Martin on the screen again, you can see all that's worth seeing in the trailer for free. When I left the theater, ready to take off those silly green sandals and put my poor, cold toes into real shoes, I was still high on the joy of my revelation.

I drove 15 minutes down the road to a place called Classic Body Image in Blacksburg. When I checked in, I learned that my therapist was actually one of my yoga students from the other night. I warned her about my condition and how long it had been since I had had a massage. She said that the therapy I had requested should cause me no troubles.

(from http://www.affirmationsbodyspa.com)

If you've never tried a hot stone massage, it's glorious. You're between two sheets with a blanket on top. About four or five larger stones are placed underneath your back along your spine and you lie down over them (later the therapist works on the other side, placing you face down with warm stones along your back as she/he works with your feet, legs, and trapezius). Then she took lotion to various areas around my neck, shoulders, arms, and legs, and ran very warm basalt stones over my muscles. The only pressure that was applied was the weight of the stones and the gentle guidance of my therapist's hands.

It was serendipitous to have this girl work with me... not only because I had been her teacher the other night (or because she is very good at what she does), but because she is a vegetarian also, and she offered me a chance to discuss my newfound feelings on the matter. She moved to Blacksburg with her husband due to his job and misses her home in Washington state. Apparently, it's a vegetarian's paradise back home. "Fortunately though," she informed me, "there's this fantastic vegetarian restaurant practically walking distance from the yoga studio."

I only had time for a snack between the end of the massage and class, but I wanted a little something in my stomach. I parked on the street and walked to this little hole in the wall... one would easily miss Gillies if not specifically informed that it was there. The walls were a warm red color reflected on hardwood floors. The tables were casually scattered... seemed people felt free to move things about to accommodate their numbers. I sat at the bar on a stool closest to the wall and ordered a cold soba noodle salad over a bed of organic greens and topped with mushrooms and sesame seeds. My mouth is watering at the mere memory... the salad was so simple, but so satisfying. I had that soap-bubble light feeling... food tastes better, feels better, because no animals were harmed to prepare it.

Class was good. I wished my trainer a happy early birthday and tried to calmly explain to her what a fantastic day I had had. I suddenly felt so spoiled... my last sabbatical occurred because I was losing my mind and needed some solitude to clear my head. This surprise sabbatical happened out of circumstance. What had I done that I needed to have a full breakfast made for me, a pedicure, time for a movie, and a massage followed by a good yoga session and an awesome meal?

Then I thought about it. I had not had this much fun in ages... smiling, warm, for-no-reason good times. I actually rarely have pure, uninhibited fun. Maybe that's why I needed a day of indulgence... because I'm such a blockhead at incorporating amusement and lighthearted fun into my regular life. I so rarely genuinely laugh anymore. I know when to laugh. I know what's funny. But, when I truly, wholeheartedly laugh, I sound like my mother. She has this beautiful, fairy queen sort of laugh that's like music. I've heard that noise come out of me only a few times in the past several years. Maybe this unexpected sabbatical was deserved to remind me that I need to lighten up.

I went back to Gillies for dinner and ordered a great glass of white, edamame, and this fantastic stir-fry with local veggies, tofu, and jasmine rice served with a spicy peanut sauce. I did the tacky-thing and took a picture of my dinner:


The restaurant started to fill with musicians playing folk music... one at a time, they would walk in, pull up a chair, and just join in. Violinists, guitarists, banjo players... The energy in the room was remarkable. I didn't need my book. I listened to the music and thought about nothing. I just enjoyed my meal and tapped my neatly pedicured foot to the music. I missed Anya, who was surviving the tail-end of a nasty stomach flu at the time, and my pen pal, wishing I could have shared this evening with my vegetarian friends (who are both highly deserving of a good sabbatical).

Too excited to stop, I went to a bookstore after dinner and called Tristan. I was still hyper on the bliss of my day. He humored me, laughed at my little story, but encouraged me on my path ("More meat for me," I think he said). I was unable to find a book to take with me (though they had a great endcap display of Alice in Wonderland), so, I climbed into my car and returned to the Inn.

I packed quietly, preparing for my departure the following day. My skin tingled with the joy of my experience, the awe of its accidental appearance. I felt grateful, calm, and I couldn't manage to remove the smile from my face. Even as I finally laid down to sleep under the cozy canopy, that contented smile, that sense of having been touched by something sacred, remained with me as I dozed and absorbed the magic of the day.