"For the Soldiers"

On Saturday morning, before I left for the island, I had some strong feelings about what I was and was not to wear. I was not to wear my wolf wedding ring (although the white gold band was fine). I was not to wear LM's heavy shirt (which I like to wear as a jacket over a tank top). I was to wear the Tiwaz rune medallion.

I had not felt called to do any particular work on the island, just to bring my teacher to a very special place. She had work to do, it turned out, and I was happy to stand guard at the entrance to the labyrinth and bear witness -- and to greet the spirit of an old comrade who joined a larger company of spirits who were being blessed. It's not my work to discuss, save to say that the Tiwaz rune was appropriate for what transpired.

This evening I did my every-Tuesday blot for Tiwaz, and in addition to discussing the household, especially security, he thanked me for my part in the working -- and then went a step further. Pray for the soldiers, he told me. He didn't ask any specifics beyond that, leaving it up to my discretion. But the directive was clear.

It is a responsibility I am happy to take on, for I have always loved and honored warriors. I frequently deplore the way they are used by those who make policy, but I have always felt admiration for the men and women who live out the archetype of the Warrior with courage and honor. Besides, part of my particular expression of the hierodule path is mediating healing to men who have been wounded in their minds and souls as a result of participation in war. I am not in a position to offer healing with my body right now -- but I can still act as a priestess and pray for healing for those who have served (the living and the dead), and who continue to serve.

Men!

This evening I had my first session at Massage Envy -- a chain of massage centers where you get a one-hour massage for 1/2-2/3 what you would pay most other places.

And they have men!

The last dozen or so massages I've paid for (ie: not received from a lover) were in places that only had female therapists: usually sweet young things with slim, delicate hands. Nice for relaxation, not so good for serious deep tissue work.

My local Massage Envy evidently has women on staff -- but I didn't see any this evening. The two people behind the counter were guys, and all three massage therapists I saw and spoke with were guys.

Young guys.
Cute guys.
Young, cute guys with big, strong hands and the knowledge of how to use them.

They also were all friendly, attentive, quick to laugh.

Did I mention the big, strong hands?

It was a little piece of heaven.

And yes, I bought a $59/month membership -- and I go back on Friday night for another session.

Ye gods, I've been starved for touch this past year.
My two men used to give great massages.
I've missed that so much. . .

Paying for a massage from a professional isn't the same as getting a luxurious rub-down by a lover -- but under the circumstances I'll take what I can get, and enjoy it to the fullest.