I am so embarrassed | #82

And it points me to my truth

During a meditation session on my travels, it became clear that I was bound for London in the spring and would stay for at least two months. The clarity was sheer so there was no question, no hesitation and no thinking. I knew I was going to follow through with it.

Those two months would be time to begin to work with people’s bodies and their human energy field. Up until that point, I’d found every excuse for starting the work.

They were plenty and full of fear. To do work I actually care about feels too ‘true’ and too vulnerable. I was scared by what it would mean to really care, to be earnest about my endeavours, and there were other easy excuses too like questioning the financial sustainability of the path and why I would venture into a profession that is looked down upon (at least by some people who’s opinion I care about) .

Perhaps one of the biggest issues is that I’d always been good at ‘white collar’ work where money is abundant and the work is more respected. It has always been easy to get freelance or full-time work even after taking chunks of time off work and I found that type of work to be stimulating and interesting enough. I convinced myself that the body and energy work ‘stuff’ was just a side gig while my main gig was more serious and impressive in AI.

But the ten months off, ironically enabled by the white collar work, gave me enough space and time to parse the truth from the near-truths. Across this time, my body understood that bodywork and energy work had risen to be my calling, and it was the work I had to do. I could try to escape it, I could try to deny it but it would always call me. And as for making the path financially sustainable, I’d have to find ways to reduce my expenses and perhaps I will still have to do some freelance work in AI to keep things afloat.

Back in London, the setup was already there, I’d known that I could easily get bookings on a mobile massage platform I’d used before, as the algorithm prioritises therapists who can get to clients easily. These clients tend to be central and my flat is in the literal heart of London. All I needed to do was to get massage therapy insurance, re-activate my account and get another massage bed after having sold my previous one. I knew I’d start to see bookings come through as soon as I put my availability up.

The week I was back in London, I put the wheels into motion and the last thing left to do was to pick up the massage bed I’d found on Facebook marketplace.

What I didn’t realise was how embarrassed I’d feel about the earnestness of this endeavour when a very dear friend, Jonny, came with me to get the massage bed. I’d told him along with all my friends that my focus this summer is to get as many bookings as possible on the platform so that I can practice bodywork on many different bodies while earning money. And I had also hoped that I could offer an additional ten minutes of reiki at the end of each session to gain more experience.

As we waited for the seller to finish with their client so I could pick up the bed and pay for it, I instantly felt a deep sense of cringe and embarrassment at myself. So many different parts within me emerged, asking what the hell I was doing, who I thought I was, why I was buying this bed. I felt silly, stupid and small. Jonny’s willingness to help me made me feel horribly exposed.

That feeling was so visceral. I felt the helplessness in my heart, and it spread all over my body. In my effort to not deal with it alone, I let Jonny know how I felt and we explored why together. Through that conversation I both avoided truly dropping into the feeling but also discovered that my embarrassment was a sign that I was on the right path — one of being a healer working with people’s bodies and energies and holding space for them.

When I got home, I laid down to rest and had planned to take a nap when the platform notified me that someone had booked a ninety minute session with me that evening. I’d put myself as available for that whole day earlier in the week and thought I’d removed it but turns out I hadn’t. That first booking instilled so much faith in my choice. It was a woman who told me she picked me out of three options because my bio talked about my work with Reiki. She also really liked my massage. She ran a retreat company and was looking to bring more people like me out on her retreats. Her partner also ran a gym and had space for massage therapists to work there. That Sunday I ended up with three more bookings across London. Three days into getting my massage bed and I’d already attended to four bookings. It felt like a pretty neat early outcome.

It is still early days and I do wonder about the sustainability of this path especially as I want to solely do this work without supplementing it with freelance desk work. And I want to do this while living in London. My outgoings are definitely higher than my incomings at the moment but I have a bit of a runway to see if this could work.

As I write this, I’ve had two days of zero bookings and now I’m on the way to my fifth booking. I don’t know how this journey will unfold, only that I have conviction it’s the journey I have to go on. It feels like the most skin in the game I’ve put into anything, and on the cusp of turning thirty-three I am doing something that feels peeled away from social pressure, validation or approval, something true to who I am unfolding into.

I sense this is a period to grind seriously, a period where I will be putting my head down to do honest work, make my way out to my clients, dragging my massage bed across London with me and use this as a period of inquiry into the art of body and energy work. The work feels very laborious and manual. It reminds me of the repetitive work I see people having to do when they pack up outdoor tables daily or set them up daily — I’ve often wondered if those people get bored by the menial task of dragging tables out and setting the chairs up around them, then dragging them back in every single day. But now I see myself embarking on a similar way of living, dragging this massage bed across London to homes. I feel like I am allowing myself to have some sense of repetitiveness in my life, the act that is required to gain mastery in a craft, and honestly I am quite excited.