There's something almost religious about getting your body waxed. It's cleansing, like a good cry or a good scream. A good wax can clear your head, relax you, put in you in the moment, and make you feel sexy all at once.
This morning, I got up early for an 8:15 AM appointment at my local spa. It may sound silly, but I actually feel pious when I attend these monthly "services", especially when I get up early on the weekend and there are so few cars on the road.
I arrive, and am met by an attendant in a stark, robe-like habit, clean in its lines. In a soft voice, the attendant ushers me a little closer to the heavens. Walking down a darkened hall, I see candles flickering on either side of me. Floors gleam. In the dark we pass semi-lit rooms -- the glossy furniture within displays artifacts of the craft.
Ah -- here we are... the room I know so well. We stop at a door at the end of the hall, and enter. I remove my shoes. I lay down on a raised table, and close my eyes. I hear a waterfall, and soft music. A soft cloth dampened with a vitamin-laden liquid is gently passed over my face. Thank you. After years of this interaction, few words need be exchanged.
As the attendant applies an unctuous substance, then strips of linen, I know I am in good hands. Relax, now. Breathe deeply. Yes. Remove from me the accumulation of the past month.
I tilt my head to the either side and back; the applications are repeated until the session is complete. The synergy of attendant and attendee cannot be mistaken.
My service concluded, I am quiet as I rise. The attendant and I descend levels. I leave this building of peace and beauty. I will miss it. Not for another month will I have this exact feeling of freshness and effortless refinement. But the sunlight hits my face. I step into the world again, ready. I can face it now.
Sure, money may be tight sometimes, but you know something? Because of the way it makes me feel, this is one thing I never, ever miss...
1 week ago