I’ve realized that my most intimate relationship is with my acupuncturist. I’ve been seeing him for more than a year… so… you know… we’re in long-term relationship territory now. He knows all of my issues, both medical and emotional. I feel totally comfortable around him. And, really, there’s no one else who can tell me to take off my pants and lay down without leaving me stunned.
But like any relationship, it can be an emotional roller coaster.
Every session starts with a little chitchat to decide what’s tops on my list of troubles so we can focus the treatment. Since my last session, I’ve had trouble sleeping and have been very tired. So there we go – a nice little treatment that should help me relax and get a great night’s sleep. All was fine and dandy until the last little needle.
Needles in the feet hurt. For me, they hurt a lot. I cringed with the right foot, but rapidly recovered. Then the left foot. Oh the left foot. Once the needle was in, he asked if I was okay. I said yes, but then immediately started crying. I was dumbfounded. The tears weren’t from pain. They were from… I don’t know what. “Why am I crying?” I’m pretty sure he wanted to say, “I have no idea.” But as surprised as he was, he didn’t. He left me alone. And I cried. Quietly releasing whatever it was that those crazy little needles stirred up inside me.
When he came back in, he said he never thought of this treatment as being one to bring tears, but anything can happen with energy work.
I felt great when I left. And I slept well that night. But the response I had to the treatment has lingered with me. It’s almost like a reassurance that something is going on – proof of change. And change is good.
Andi
Blissfully Imperfect
Roya
blissfully imperfect 