The Lordship of Whacky Fun

The mixture of menthol and wintergreen barely masked the faint smell of mold that emitted from the grouting between the cream colored tiles of the steam room. I did like the minty smell and the way last night's party flowed out of my open pores. I probably would not be sitting there except that I was laid up with a broken ankle from trying to skate over the threshold of my bedroom. A film making pal from MIT filmed it …(should have called in a stunt double). Any way that resounding crack slowed me down enough to be home to answer my phone.

As I lay in bed under the influence of percodans, I got a call from Yolanda who said I understand that you are an incredible massage therapist . She wanted to hire me in the health salon section of her beauty/bridal salon. I’d heard of the place. It was a faux palace in the inner suburbs with expensive shoes, formal attire, a beauty salon and a health club where brides and their entourages came in for “days of beauty” and high school cheerleaders bought there prom dresses. Local ladies worked out there. It was a very feminine place. They worked out with light weight chromed barbells and did aerobics to Aretha Franklin‘s jump to it. Not the place I would consider applying for a job, but hey I could stand to augment my income.

“How did you get my name?” She said that Mary Ellen Whalen, an astrologer I knew was a member of her health salon and gave it to her. “Mary Ellen said that you have incredible healing abilities.” Damn good thing too, I thought . As a diehard beat poet, I needed all the healing abilities I could muster. Any way I told her that after I recuperated from my broken ankle I’d be in. I thought that I could squeeze in four shifts a week massaging women at her health salon.

Mary Ellen, who never had one of my massages, based this healing ability stuff on having read my natal chart. Chiron sextile moon in Taurus on the mid heaven sextile Jupiter conjunct Uranus on the ascendent or some such thing. I did give a good blend of massage techniques down. Like everything I did it was an art. I liked to meditate and run the energy out my fingers. Then I’d find the places that needed an extra zap on the bodies that lay out before me. I relied on intuition and my training consisted of a few workshops and what I picked up here and there. I was never and still am not anything close to naturopath. As the warm mentholated fog rolled in , I grinned at the whacky abundant dance of my life.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
At the end of one of those discontinued roads in Maine that you would not venture down with out some serious four wheel drive vehicle in the Spring, I sat around the fire with maybe 15 others as the spirit challenged us through the local Nigerian witch doctor. “Lordship” in short, was the word of my evening. “As a healer at your age you should have complete lordship over your ability.”
Now healer is usually way down the list of adjectives I generally use to describe myself. Must be my crazy green glow, because this not the first time I have gotten this message from people I don’t even know. Any way, I usually take such directives with a grain of salt. Later the woman who hosts these gatherings said that she didn’t know I was a “practitioner”. To which I said I’m really not. .. I just used to do massage a lot until they came up with all these required certifications and licenses. That kind of took all the fun and art out of healing art in my opinion. Not to mention the fact that I refuse to adhere to any kind of strict diet or lifestyle that would generally be found in a “practitioner” . She looked askance. Okay maybe I am a derelict practitioner. It just kind of permeates my dealings in the world. Lordship? LORDSHIP? Maybe the lordship of fun suits me. Now this doesn’t sound very responsible, but above all to me life is always fun, a long chain of celebrations. My inner child runs amok. Life is good is my constant prayer of gratitude.