collaboration of humanity

I massage people of every size, age, sex and race.  I may have massaged family members of al-Qaeda, or long-lost cousins of Mother Theresa.  All that pass through my hands every week are different people from different backgrounds.  It’s poetic in a way.  They come to see me for a way of escape, a way to feel whole again.  For relaxation or pain relief, I’m here. 

I massaged a woman a few days ago who came to see me purely for personal gain, for selfish reasons.  Her back was messed up with huge bulging knots and hard fibrous masses of what-not, but she wasn’t there to see me.  She barely said two words to me.  She had no problem looking in my eyes and when she did, it was indifferent. She needed me, but her ego was too big to admit it.  So all she could do was treat me like a piece of equipment she’s renting for the hour.

It’s good to help the person trying to help you.  Just a friendly smile would’ve been enough for me.  Upon first meeting, she was scared to leave her belongings with me while she went to the bathroom.  Does being a lowly massage therapist automatically place me in the criminal category?  I’m a wellness provider – a giver, not a taker.

This is the sort of stuff I hate about my job.  That some people see me as being beneath them.  A whole slew of jobs can be put in the servant field.  It would be hard to find a job that is not in some way serving someone.  Whether it be upper management, customers, clients, the public.  Doctors serve us, hairstylist’s serve us, the daycare provider that watches your kid serves the whole fam.  Who doesn’t serve in some way?  And if they don’t, what is it that would enrich their lives and make it meaningful?

I’m lucky that my job entitles me to treat all individuals equal.  To not place judgments on them for their financial status or the house they live in.  We all have bodies, some functioning better than others, but they are all the same to me.  All different bodies, but there is no judgement on my part. 

It could be the tipping aspect that sets me a part from other jobs that serve.  The military serves their country, but you don’t have to tip them.  Are they more admirable because they don’t accept tips?  Ok, they are admirable, bad analogy.  But lets just say they DO accept tips, would that degrade their profession?  If a judge that serves the judicial system decree’s a life sentence to you, would it degrade him if you say “Thanks, here’s a twenty.” 

The people who love being an MT and thrive at it are admirable.  I envy admirable people.


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Filed under journal, Massage therapy, rant

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