Happy finishes

Happy finishes

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Stacey helps relieve the suffering and pain of people. And she really loves it! Massage therapists share with hairdressers and bartenders some trustworthy anonymity. Her clients tell her their deepest secrets, their personal issues, and all their juicy gossip within a few sessions. She enjoys her relationship with most of her customers, typically only contributing enough to the conversations to suggest interest and relax the customer.

They bare their souls and in body and spirit they leave the sessions feeling better. But with one particularly nasty customer she has to bite her tongue lately. Steve is a big, vulgar, middle-aged businessman who can’t resist telling Stacey all his sleazy encounters when traveling on business with prostitutes. He takes pride in his wife’s ability to keep his womanizing a secret. Stacey’s explicit descriptions of his latest sexual exploits this evening are too much. She ends the massage disgusted with no intention of allowing Steve to return to her clinic.

Stacey feels particularly tense and, yes, dirty after getting rid of the smug braggart, she decides to slip into her clinic’s yoga class offered upstairs every evening. Yoga is a phenomenal relief and stress relief aid. And right now, she has been filled with stress by this idiot. She quickly catches on to the discipline’s philosophy and techniques already extremely in tune with her body. She is pleasantly surprised that she feels calm and centered to go home later.

In short, several days a week, evening yoga sessions are becoming an integral part of her routine. Soon she’s reading about the ancient discipline’s history and philosophy. She meets several references to various forms of meditation, mind yoga, as it was called by one writer. Practitioners claim that meditation’s benefits are evident in all aspects of their lives: increased work productivity; increased personal satisfaction; increased sense of identity; even more rewarding sex life. She contemplates enrolling in one of the classes of meditation, but her readings highlight personal goals and achievements, so she decides to do it on her own.She is soon immersed in advanced techniques. She feels a change for herself. She’s less stressed, more satisfied with life ; she’s more clearly seeing the world and its role in it, and she’s more contented than in years.

One evening, an advance meditation exercise takes in a realm unfamiliar to her deeper than ever before. So unprepared that she is temporarily unconscious for the strangeness of the experience. When she wakes up, her body tells her that she’s been out for a while, forty-five minutes per clock, although she doesn’t have any sense of time passing. She is several feet from the mat on which she sits to meditate, the coffee table and the seat of love are out of position, and the lamp on the end table lies broken down on the floor. She has several bruises on her shins and right arm, obviously due to violent furniture contact.

She is afraid she might have had a seizure, and she sees her doctor for a medical examination. It all looks fine. At the request of the doctor, she takes the week off work, but she is antsy by Saturday and accepts an appointment with one of her regular patients. To control her migraines, Sylvia requires regular massage. She is in a terrible state because for her usual scheduled appointment on Wednesday, Stacie was unavailable. Stacey senses something odd happening in the middle of the treatment. Her fingers begin to tingle as she massages Sylvia and a cool sensation climbs her arms, crosses her shoulders and runs up her neck and into her head.

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