I am exhausted. Je suis crévée! I am lying face down on a massage table, my face fitting just in the hole designed to cradle my face whilst I experience soft oils trickling down my body, hopefully to drift off into rejuvenating sleep. As I allow some stranger to stroke my bare flesh, I would expect to experience loosening relaxation. My reveries pines for the sooth of hot stones to release tension from my lower back muscles from sitting too much….
Cupping is à la mode at the moment, simply because someone well known is seen with circular bruises on his back. I scoffed at the shallowness of the world – cupping has been around in China for centuries. But, if I cannot beat them, why not join them? So, instead of a massage today, I decided on cupping to release the dampness and wind from the bod, or so the theory goes. I lie there waiting for the masseuse to dip the cotton ball into alcohol and alight the flame for the cups, wondering which newspaper might be interested in my purple stains after those 20 minutes. Keep Reading…
