The material below was first posted in the Review Section of Zeel.com, a sort of clearing house portal for Massage Therapist providers for all of Long Island and New York Metropolitan area. The paragraph formatting quirks of that portal however did not do justice to the composition. Ergo, I published it here although it might appear to be out-of-character for the types of rants which normally appear here. Chalk it to “variety is the spice of life.”
It behooves to preface my remarks, as I emphasized earlier elsewhere (http://asumenacumen.blogspot.com/2012/01/week-2012w03-featured-pages.html), that
“. . . giving and appreciating an effectively healing massage is very much in the DNA of my [genetic] heritage for at least three generations. So when a massage provider’s methodology resonates with the healing needs of my physical wellbeing, it necessarily affects my emotional impulses and overall demeanor. . . .”
Ergo, while I myself am no slouch in giving one, I most definitely recognize and gratefully appreciate a superlative massage when I get one. So better pay attention at what I have to say. You are likely to learn something worthwhile and beneficial.
Raquel brings a definite improvement to whatever landscape she graces with her presence as she did my door with a seemingly habitual punctuality, a trait I always appreciate in a professional. After we mutually agreed that my massage table setup was adequately acceptable, the only question I needed to settle as a first timer was how she wanted me dressed for the session.
It was immediately obvious that Raquel was not doing her ministrations by any book I recognized. But the intensely intuitive component of the modality she was using was unmistakable. So about fifteen minutes into the session I boldly inquired as to the label that her methodology may go by. With the self-assurance of a violin virtuoso, she perfunctorily suggested I may call it the Raquel Merrill modality. So I apologetically kept quiet and enjoyed the ride with pervasive oohs and aahhs.
On hindsight, I would recommend for her to take, as a matter of standard protocol for first timers at least, a couple of minutes to scope out the client’s treatment needs and restrictions before digging in earnest into the massage procedure per se.
Admittedly, this omission notwithstanding, the session was the fastest hour I have had the pleasure of living through. The experience was so exquisitely exhilarating, that as a token of my appreciation I insisted on giving her a paperback copy of my new book, (C.f., http://www.flirtingwithmisadventures.com/orderthebook.htm) with the boilerplate inscription:
“May you never cease
Minting memories
To fondly cherish
Through your priceless days.”
I can barely wait until I can get back on her table. It pains me to concede that even in the age of Obama deficit spending and unbudgeted operations, budgetary constraints still prevent me from being her client anytime soon.
It behooves to preface my remarks, as I emphasized earlier elsewhere (http://asumenacumen.blogspot.com/2012/01/week-2012w03-featured-pages.html), that
“. . . giving and appreciating an effectively healing massage is very much in the DNA of my [genetic] heritage for at least three generations. So when a massage provider’s methodology resonates with the healing needs of my physical wellbeing, it necessarily affects my emotional impulses and overall demeanor. . . .”
Ergo, while I myself am no slouch in giving one, I most definitely recognize and gratefully appreciate a superlative massage when I get one. So better pay attention at what I have to say. You are likely to learn something worthwhile and beneficial.
Raquel brings a definite improvement to whatever landscape she graces with her presence as she did my door with a seemingly habitual punctuality, a trait I always appreciate in a professional. After we mutually agreed that my massage table setup was adequately acceptable, the only question I needed to settle as a first timer was how she wanted me dressed for the session.
It was immediately obvious that Raquel was not doing her ministrations by any book I recognized. But the intensely intuitive component of the modality she was using was unmistakable. So about fifteen minutes into the session I boldly inquired as to the label that her methodology may go by. With the self-assurance of a violin virtuoso, she perfunctorily suggested I may call it the Raquel Merrill modality. So I apologetically kept quiet and enjoyed the ride with pervasive oohs and aahhs.
On hindsight, I would recommend for her to take, as a matter of standard protocol for first timers at least, a couple of minutes to scope out the client’s treatment needs and restrictions before digging in earnest into the massage procedure per se.
Admittedly, this omission notwithstanding, the session was the fastest hour I have had the pleasure of living through. The experience was so exquisitely exhilarating, that as a token of my appreciation I insisted on giving her a paperback copy of my new book, (C.f., http://www.flirtingwithmisadventures.com/orderthebook.htm) with the boilerplate inscription:
“May you never cease
Minting memories
To fondly cherish
Through your priceless days.”
I can barely wait until I can get back on her table. It pains me to concede that even in the age of Obama deficit spending and unbudgeted operations, budgetary constraints still prevent me from being her client anytime soon.
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