Thursday, September 29, 2011


Got my massage today. As I say, I'm like a thoroughbred. Sort of jumpy. They wanted me to get naked. Nice sweet little voice, "Take off your clothes and she'll be along in a few minutes." I said, "What, all of them?" I'm really not a prude, and not incredibly modest, but that wasn't going to happen. "I'll keep my shorts on." Deep tissue massage. Felt nice. They went easy on me, because I was clear that I'd never had a massage before. "Never?" "Well, not professional." I was after all once married, and while it was not a good marriage, it was a sort of marriage.

Had a nervous stomach all morning though. I don't like new things. But I follow through on my commitments. I don't break appointments. There's a sort of dread resolve about me. Face the music. I know, it's ridiculous, in this instance. But it's an attitude that's borne me through some hellish situations. I have faced ruin, and been overtaken by it, and survived, with rage and bitterness, but with dignity and integrity as well. The wounds bled over into the rest of my soul, and I am damaged, I think, beyond repair, but I am not broken. Who would have thought that getting a massage could be so unsettling to the spirit.

It was nice though. I don't know the etiquette of such a situation, but I try to cooperate. Calm, and as relaxed as I could be. I've had my little jokes, in these pages, sometimes just to be, well, me, and sometimes as a protective device. But a moment of honesty here, uncomfortable for me to speak of, regarding, well, you know, being touched rather intimately by a female. A bit of, um, bumping contact with my junk. Glad I kept on the shorts. To view it as sexual would be ungentlemanly. I did kind of have to think about baseball though, if you get my meaning, a lot. I am happy and relieved to say that I created no cause for embarrassment. With me it is as it were touch and go. I remain disconcertingly hormonal. Unseemly in a man of my years, but I have good genes. Nevertheless, I was technically unresponsive. I am pleased with myself.

But I was utterly wrapped up in my very tightest defenses. Calm, polite, pleasant I think but unengaging. Aloof yet personable, if such a pairing is possible. Entirely professional. Would I recommend it? It seemed like an extravagance. It was a luxury. I am pretty much of a spartan, with a very low need for pleasure. For someone who is more open to life and the world, it's very nice. I have nothing to compare it to, specifically, but I'm sure it's everything it should be.

Later I grew a bit depressed, mourning my lack of normality. I wish I could be normal. I fake it pretty well, I think, but it boils down to a pathology of trust. How often do blessings fall upon us, that we find peace and friendship and love? There is a temperament, such as mine, that I affirm aspires to a sort of nobility, guarded, honed, but at a cost, and out of balance. I mourned my inability to find peace.

But I'm fine now.

Also today I got my bjj brown belt. It is an obligation. Unexpected, surely, since I am not very skilled technically. But I've loosened up a lot, playing a more open game, less cautious. Took long enough. Rolling with white belts once in a while helps quite a bit. Got the purple belt May 14 of '09, so almost two and a half years. If I'd been training all this while it would certainly be time. But I'm so rusty. Ah well. Secret learning must be happening. I'll take it. Gonna start looking through my bjj books though. Gotta represent.

Coming into the dark months now. I get up well before sunrise, drive through the blue-gray streets, having slept generally perhaps four hours, maybe three, maybe five. Can't nap in the day, hardly ever. Just can't sleep, and if I do, I'll be awake all night. Get to sleep in on Fridays though. My favorite day, then.

So. Now I will go buy some brown dye, and bring my old white belt, then blue, now purple, up to date. Only one more transfiguration to go, and I'll be done.


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