Driving the easily walkable distance over to the pizza van to grab a few for a pre-festival apéro at Denis’ daughter’s house, a few metres further up the same road, the thought struck me as to how far removed my life is now from the one I had with Tony. I know it’s not the first time my mind has wandered off into such contemplations but something happened to me on Friday or should I say someone did something to me which wasn’t what I expected and has left me feeling a little off-balance. Hence the introspectiveness.
Actually, most of the past week has been, for want of a better phrase, eye-opening. For once, Monsieur le météo was bang on when he mentioned a storm coming last Sunday – D and I sat under the parasol watching the the skies light up and the blessed rain come down. It’s funny the way such things can affect your mood; I find such summer spectacles weirdly relaxing considering how scary they can look. I’m not sure Neo is of the same opinion, the poor thing gets stressed by any loud bangs although most of the other woofers remain blissfully unbothered. Alas the downpour only lasted a couple of hours and it doesn’t look like we will see another one anytime in the near future. In fact, D and his brother Thierry had to spend a couple of days chopping down trees killed by last year’s chaleur which would have made me weep but instead has resulted in even more space in the garden and I’ve never used elderberry wood before. And speaking of whittling while you work, some of my pendant, pots and whatnots are now in Severine and Nicola’s shop in St-Hilaire and better yet, have been spotted by my friend Jude, at the town’s Thursday night market. I’ve yet to discover how things are going on the selling front, nerves perhaps but I have said I’ll pop over in the next few days. I still find it hard to get my head around the idea that I actually dabble in design instead of dog brains. Makes the mind boggle.
And that’s why I ended up having my chakras stabilised on Friday – unintentionally. You see, I’ve been having a little problem with my right hand cramping up every now and again which I can only assume is down to repetitive strain injury so I got myself an appointment with Michel Bougis. Now Michel is what you might call an ‘alternative’ practitioner who knows a thing or two about how the body works so I strolled down the same bit of road that D insists needs to be taken in four-wheeled style so he could maybe do a bit of manipulation on my malfunctioning main. Er no. I wouldn’t say I’m a sceptic by any means, people have the right to believe in what they believe as long as it doesn’t involve abuse but honestly, I’ve never really thought about my interior energy points getting blocked. But don’t knock it til you’ve tried it is a motto worth living by. Having watched his pendulum hover over a drawing with seven circles around a body, alarmingly wavering all over the place when it came to the torso area (deals with emotional baggage he informed me), Michel sat me on a chair with my bare feet on what looked like a mouse pad (the computer sort). I was told to imagine a light coming from above me and a vacuum going into the ground below; oddly quite de-stressing except for the fleeting sensation of not being able to move my legs when I opened my eyes. Then I got to lie on a table whilst Michel explained to me where and why I had shaky chakras, thankfully only two out of seven before he proceeded to realign them. I’m not great at being in one position for very long but being unwound left me almost comatose even if the glow of my ‘third eye’ did make me wonder if I was about to leave this mortal world for a second or two. But, excuse the pun, I’m not making light of my session with Michel. He knew things about the workings innermost psyche that no-one, apart from my bestie Rene and my Callum, know and as I walked back down the very short road home, I felt weirdly weightless and empty-headed (no blonde jokes please). Normally, as those of you who know me know, my mind is like a ping-pong tournament on speed play and I can’t say having all that suddenly stop has made for a particularly comfortable state to be in but I do feel calmer and it’s noticeable I’ve been told. How long this mellow me will last, who knows but as a good friend said recently: “Soph, you drive an automatic, you wouldn’t know where first gear was”. Maybe but my car’s stick shift has Park written on it…
“For fast acting relief, try slowing down.” ( Lily Tomlin)
Widow plus woofs 