I’ve been a massage therapist for 20 years. I have loved every minute of my career. (Ok, there was one client back in the 90s who grumbled about his wife and kids for his whole session. When he ran dry on complaints he did really loud ujayii breathing and farted. I didn’t love him.) Every other minute I did, though.
My private practice is just right for me. Not too small. Not too big. For some getting big is success. For me keeping it simple is success.
I’ve been starting to think, though, “What’s next?” A bout of arthritis and a health crisis with my mom have brought my future into focus for me. Normally I live in the Now. I’ve practiced that for years. But still, I’m not the Buddha or even Eckhart Tolle. So yesterday I caught myself worrying being old. I was wondering what it would like to be an old vegan in a Medicaid nursing home full of meat loaf and scrambled eggs.
I only pondered that scene for a half day, though. Then I snapped out of worrying. I started this gratitude journal instead. I reminded myself that everything is always working out for me. It is now and it will in the future.
Guess what. Life invented a new company for me to work with, perfect for my current and retirement-planning needs. They put an add on Craigslist under the sneaky title of “Massage Therapists Wanted” so I would click. I clicked and now I’m in an amazing training program with like-minded people opening a new service that Boston and the country are going to love.
I can still keep my lovely little massage practice, too. Thank you.