I want.

(Tree of Hope, Frida Kahlo 1946)

I want someone to come and massage away all the aches and pains. To release the toxins, of both body and spirit.

I want to feel my blood flow and the warmth suffuse my limbs. To feel that moment of release when a rock hard knot of muscle finally releases. When the burdens of the word are lifted.

I want to smell the oils. The lavender and sandalwood. The lemongrass and rosemary. The melange of fragrance, that infuses the air. The smell that weaves its way through your body from that first intake of breath. Permeating and cleansing every pore as it works it's way through the body.

I want candles. Soft warm light. A counterpoint to the harsh light of the world.

I want white noise. To shut out the whirring in my mind.

I want soft towels and warm air.

I want to feel the stress and the pain leave my body.

I want my strained nerves to stand down.

As the world is massaged away stroke by stroke.

I want to feel that inner hum where everything is balanced as it should be.

I want the world to leave. Just for a while.

I don't want to hurt.

I don't want to feel exhausted.

Mentally and physically.

Day after day after day.

I want to feel renewed, if even for an hour or two.

I want to lie quietly and absorb the moment.

I want to forget my body.

I want to forget the burden of keeping it all together. All the time.

I want to exist as another me.

The me that just is.

I want that me.

If only so I can remember that it exists.

That there was a moment.

When it didn't hurt and I wasn't broken. When I felt whole and at peace.

That my body could hum and not scream.

That I could just be.

I want that.

I need that.

Michelle