I've Got Rings / Frog Harmony

She covered my back in Almond Oil and Eucalyptus...

The Frog returns daily, hopping back from either the stream where my husband gently introduces him or the tall grass where I lazily fling him.  Thus, is the difference in our spiritual practices. My spouse is a Buddhist; a simple soul, seeking to find peace in his own head while I am more fierce at heart, a goddess wannabe who craves adoration, affection and Frog-free STUFF.  Hubby does not crave; I cling to desire and pout. He is attentive; I am needy. It is pure co-dependency that functions...most of the time.

The massage feels nice and I am loving the attention. She suggests we start at my shoulders and try the gentlest suction. The encounter was my idea as I was needing something "new"; my day to day had become commonplace and I crave experience like a crack addict craves Heisenberg.

After my last blog about Frog, I receive an email from my resident Buddhist.
I just read your blog, don't you think the frog is a lesson of some sort?
I sigh and roll my eyes. How did I know this was coming?  The frog, though a real frog with pulsing blood in his Frog veins, is also a metaphor.  I have acknowledged this from the start, but my fear is as real as my comical exit from Froggy hot tub.  Frogs terrify me. They could hop on me.  Yup. That is my true terror. THEY COULD HOP ON ME...

I feel something cling to my back and then tugging.  She moves the suctioned cup up and down my scapula and I wonder why I think pain is a better alternative to boredom.

The Frog is a lesson in fear.  I have groundless fears. Irrational Fears.  Fears based on gossip and tall tales. The Frog has begun to break down some of these fears and so I reflect on what other ones might need to go. Each day, as I gently cajole Frog into my net, I find empathy for this small but determined creature.  I note his coloring matches the hot tub finish perfectly and I can understand that my hot tub is simply a very large warm rock that suits his camouflage.  I do my best to not injure him in our daily migration.

I am surprised at how much this is hurting; but she says that it is a sign it is much needed..  That is classic Chinese medicine logic. I suck in breath as she reminds me to breathe. She explains how cupping works as backwards massage; the muscle is pulled up instead of pushed down and the blood is exchanged in the tissue.

I seek to remove Frog so he has no chance to hop on me.  A true sign of growth would be to just slide into the hot tub as he clings to the top edge. Could we co-exist in some sort of harmony?  Could I be brave enough?

Six cups are on my back now, theoretically sucking up toxins from my core.  I am always seeking the easy fix; seeking spiritual renewal through exchange of cash for services.  Later, as I wait to purchase my hipness at Starbucks, unaware of the purple bruised rings easily visible on my shoulders, I will conclude the experience to be worthwhile.  No gain without pain, right?  

I open the hot tub cover and go on Frog patrol.  Frog free.  Ahhhh! I slip into the hot water, hoping to erase the Duplo block 'tattoo' lingering in purple on my back.  The cupping session was days ago, but like ripples in a lake, I've got rings.

I settle back, ease the tub jets on and wonder where my persistent pal has gone...