The Frisky Masseuse and Osho Whirling Meditation!

'Masseuse’ is a funny word isn’t it? Very ‘essy’. Can’t help but think of Dr Suess. Dr Suess and the frisky masseuse. Then your start singing that song ‘Hey Suess where you been?” (3D’s). 

Yesterday I was in a far flung Eastern suburb in Auckland after having a catch up with my doctor about my ADD. I told him about my miserable experience with his receptionist last year (not in great detail). He watched me with bemusement and didn't say a word. I said “I don’t think she really understands ADD. Why would you suddenly stop having 40mg of a Ritalin a day? I know it’s not the same as antidepressants, but I still crashed really hard and had massive anxiety attacks.”

He said “She does know what she’s talking about, and stopping Ritalin isn’t the same as stopping other medications.”

“Yes, I know, I've researched it. But if you have a history of depression the anxiety can be really detrimental … and I have a history of depression.”

He didn’t answer. I could see he was stonewalling me. I didn’t mention the cases I’d read about people self harming and committing suicide when they suddenly stopped their medication. They were rare, but they certainly did exist. It seemed flippant to dismiss my concerns.

“Is she your wife?”

“Yes” he smiled

“Ah,” I smiled back “I get it now”.

I turned and said to the young trainee nurse sitting in on our session

“It pays to keep on the good side of the doctor’s wife!”

Oh how we laughed. I went away with my prescription feeling quite flat and depressed.

As I was driving I noticed a little group of shops I hadn’t seen before. There was a sign for massage (from $10!) so I stopped. I needed a massage badly. My left shoulder has been nagging me again, and I must be sleeping with my head up my bum because my neck is so sore. The massage place wasn’t one of your usual shitty little mall set ups where the masseuse has to try and get to your steel like tendons through a towel and clothes. Instead it had soft lighting, orchids, and little curtained rooms with proper massage tables. I decided on the 40 minutes for $45. The smiling proprietor asked if I preferred a man or woman to massage me. I said I didn’t mind, then realised I did. It was rare that a woman massaged me as well as a man. 

He was already deciding for me anyway, a young man who was very good with acupressure points. ‘Oh excellent’ I said. He was tall, broad, strong and very young. As he dug into my pain with expertise, he tried to up-sell me to the one hour massage.
“Oh I can’t afford it sorry.” I said truthfully.

He continued to massage expertly, really good and hard. There are places on the middle of my back that make me laugh when I’m massaged and he said that happens when your system is really overloaded.

“Yes,” I said “I feel overloaded”.

“Oh,” he said softly and kindly, “perhaps you just need to be held?”

I laughed and said “probably”, but my mind was suddenly going a million miles an hour. Was this a little invite into the world of male prostitution? It would be a good way to do it. I’d only just said I was broke though, so what kind of tip did he think he’d get? $2?

I pretended to think it was normal he’d mentioned it, then after a short while he said

 “Did you know that kissing is also very good for you? People should kiss at least three times a day, it’s very good for health. Hugging and kissing very good.”

I laughed again and said “is that right?”

“Yes,” he elaborated, “but length of kiss important. Should be 30 minutes for full benefits. Releasing endorphins. Helps to live longer and stay young.”

Now I really knew he must be trying to ‘up-sell’, but the whole thing was so interesting that I didn’t feel annoyed. He wasn’t doing anything ‘borderline’ with his hands (like the astonishing massage I had in Kota Kinabalu in 2010).

Fortunately silence ensued. I agreed that kissing was beneficial but much depended on who it was. I hoped that he got the hint; I didn’t want to kiss him. Despite this, my imagination was now on a roll.

I smiled to myself as I imagined that I was this rare creature that inspired such tender lust. I continued to smile into the face hole of the massage table, because I wondered how many other women got the kissing question each day, how many of them hungrily reached out for him? Bored housewives of the East, keeping their secret, possibly passing it on to others if they could be trusted.

When he massaged my legs with oil I enjoyed it a little more than I would have if it had been a woman administering to me. I felt quietly ashamed and thrilled by this. Even though it wasn’t directly sexual it was undeniably sensual. The fact that he’d talked about kissing certainly added to the intensity. When it was time for me to turn over and ly on my back he said “when you turn over, then I can give you a hug?” and I laughed and said “don’t scare me”.

He laughed but did not attempt to hug me. He looked at me with concern, almost motherly (or is it fatherly, I don’t know?). I closed my eyes so that I couldn’t see his unbearably kind, young, attentive face. 

He massaged my face and neck. He stroked hair away from my forehead, once, twice, three times, slowly and with great reverence. He was more attentive to these small things than are most lovers. I felt cared for. When the massage was complete he hovered over me.

“A hug?” he enquired.

Oh fuck it, why not.

So he hugged me and I hugged him back. A firm, strong hug that lasted about 8 seconds. Then, as we disengaged, he quickly enquired “kiss?” as he moved towards me, full lips already puckering up. I turned my head to the left very quickly laughing “no, no, that’s okay!”

So if you’re in the market to be a male prostitute that scores women (of your choice) then I think being a real masseuse is the way to go. Start small as with our man here. Suggest a kiss for ‘health benefits’ and then build up. Once he gains trust he probably talks about his sick mother/high cost of education and is able to get money off the women he services. If the woman steadfastly refuses to kiss then you know you won’t be massaging her vagina for ‘health benefits’ any time soon.

After my frisky masseuse experience I felt considerably rejuvenated. I went to the supermarket for my over-priced gluten free bread, a couple of bananas and a smoothie ‘with Guarana and Caffeine!’. Thus invigorated I drove to Grey Lynn and was early for the Osho Whirling Meditation.

What is Whirling Meditation?

There’s this guy Osho who concluded that most Westernized civilisations need a different approach to meditating. Our bodies are accustomed to a very different way of moving (or even of being still) compared to early yoga practitioners.  We sit in chairs. We watch screens. We’re all bung with stress and imagined worries. We need to let go, and moving in ways that are circular somehow helps us to do so. If you’d like to know more, just google Osho and heaps of stuff is available. There are plenty of things about Osho (died in 1990) that sound really dodgy, but I’m not much concerned with that.

All I know is that whirling for around 40 minutes to music with a group of lovely people was deeply hypnotic. I became still within my own wheel of movement. I felt my face relax into a sort of ‘nothingness’. When I could whirl no more, I finally collapsed to the floor and fell into a deep state of relaxation. My eyes were so heavy. The floor melted up into me in coolness. Once everyone had eventually dropped we lay there for about 15 minutes. I heard my own breath and felt the singing of blood in my body.

The whirling itself is not overly prescribed. It isn’t out of control either, because you want to retain your balance for the entire 40 or so minutes. It truly helped to take me into the ‘Now’ instead of ruminating on any ‘issues’ or concerns. It’s what we instinctively do as children when we find an open space. Spin! The beauty of it? You can do it anywhere and it’s easy. The guy taking the class advised looking at one of your (left) outstretched hand as you were spinning if you needed to. That shift in focus was amazing, it made it appear as if you were the one that was solid and that it was the world that was moving.

And so what a day it was. From frisky to whisking! I woke at 5am and felt amazing. Went back to sleep and rose to the snuggliness of my fur baby. Had coffee. Had toast. On life turns! x