Watsu Memories

We stepped down into the almost 5ft of 99 degree water. I didn’t have to ask how deep the pool was because it was up to my chin and I’m five feet. The massage therapist was several inches taller. She put some weights on my shins and flotation devices under her arms and the massage began. She held me under the shoulders and knees and performed various twists, turns and stretches. .…. I was in my mother’s arms bobbing up and down in the waves in Cape May, NJ. My sister, three years older was a feet few away, bobbing alone. My mother didn’t know how to swim. But that didn’t matter. No one swims in the ocean anyway. They bob, and float, and ride, but they don’t swim. I was safe in my mother’s arms, rocked by the sea, lulled by the surf, warmed by the sun, scared by the undertow.

The therapist changed sides. My eyes are closed. My nose is in the water. Is this part of the watsu? I hold my breath. I think it’s not. I lift my nose out of the water…..I am standing by my mother in the surf in Tom’s River, NJ. My younger sister stands at her other side. We are wearing identical bathing suits with tulips on the top except mine is white and hers is pink. A big wave comes and knocks us down. My mom reaches out for my little sister and grabs her. I dig my fingers into the sand and hang on. I don’t blame her for the rescue triage. I hold on long enough. I am a survivor. I could do it again, but first I think I need to walk up to the blanket and have a snack. Away from the undertow. I hope there is a salami sandwich with mustard and iceberg lettuce.

The massage therapist lifts me by the neck and pulls me up and out of the water. Crack, crack, crack goes my spine. She is straightening me out…..I am much older now and I think it fun to dunk my sister in the lake. She squeals. I dunk. She squeals again. Repeat. The lifeguard blows his whistle. Time out for me. I learn not to torture my sister. Sorry sister.

The therapist supports my neck and swishes me back and forth. I am a goldfish and I can’t wait to try this one out on my grandson. Playing fish is going to be a good game.

The massage therapist seats me on the ledge at the side of the pool. My heels are down my arms folded across my chest. The waves gently ripple and rock. My arms unfold and my heels lift. My.arms are buoyed sideways like a crab... All is still now. Is this part of the watsu? I am back in Cape May. My lips are blue and that’s the rule of thumb for when I have to get out of the water. I roll and roll on the hot sand till the shivering stops.  Little waves start again. Here comes the massage therapist to check on my meditative state. Is this part of the watsu? This is not part of the watsu. Time to get out of the water when you get put on the ledge.