twenty percent pampering

My 78yo Japanese shiatsu masseuse asks me how my jaw feels after a painful round of kneading around my face.

‘You look different from before. Your face was squashed but now it is stretched.’

He teaches me a self-massage technique at the point between the bones of my cheekbones and my jaw, telling me that I can press harder because the jaw muscle is the strongest muscle in the body, able to carry up to 200 pounds.

I ask him why my jaw is so tight. What kind of stress is this? I remember how it is the oldest survival mechanism, where we first begin to brace when the alarm system goes off.

I talk about my sleep routine. Another late night and early morning. He gives me a look and sighs ‘discipline’. Yesterday I pulled a Mei Thottam oracle card on discipline and bull ants and immediately filed it away, a message calling loudly for me I didn’t want confirmation on.

I ask him if he is a disciplined person, if he has always been.

He tells me he is 80% discipline, ‘almost rigid’ with a healthy lifestyle.

‘Like a monk.’

I start thinking about Saturn.

‘But I have 20% pampering. Nice strong cigarette, Malboro, nice strong coffee, nice dark chocolate. Otherwise life is gray. You need some pampering.’

~

We make a time to meet again. I try for 11am on 11/11 for auspiciousness but we settle on 1pm because he is already busy.

He declares the date a good number. I ask if that is his favourite number, and what his favourite number is?

‘Three. And seven.’

‘Why?’

‘Those are good numbers. They become 1. And it is my birthday.’

(I finally find out his birthday without asking, my inner astrologer rejoicing in glee)

He used to have a phone number that ended with 1119, and said his life kept hitting a dead end like the 9, slamming his left hand into the other for emphasis.

He tells me his fate changed when he changed his phone number to end with 1, when he moved into his current place 23 years ago and life opened up.

‘Your place is also numbered 7 and 33.’

He beams, and again I marvel at the patterns we notice, the meanings we make.