O P o t B

A thumb pressed into my muscle as the masseuse worked the knots of stress out of it and just as the knots in my flesh were undone, the knots in my mind was undone and my thoughts drifted.  Drifted to that place where the inner being stands naked.  A place where the veil of perception is removed and all is laid bare.  A place where no blame can be placed, a place where we have to face the truth about ourselves. It is a journey I feared.  It was a fear of what I may find, fear that what I found I may not like, but more than that I feared that it was one where I could lay no blame and had to accept whatever I saw.  And laying on that table, some 4000 miles away from any familiar surroundings, as the masseuse worked his hands across my back relieving the stresses and strains of everyday life, that I decided the time was right to take the journey. At first I saw the scares, not twisted and distorted as one may think but rounded and beautiful in patterns upon the surface.  The scares of

It was not the first time that he had forgotten.  She woke up early that morning hoping that he had remembered.  She waited in anticipation, as he stumbled out of bed and went through his morning ritual, hoping that this time at least, after fifteen years of marriage, he had remembered.  Nothing, not even a knowing smile just the usual "thank you" when she handed him a cup of coffee.  And then, jacket and case in hand,  a quick peck on the cheek and he was gone. She was tired of this! The daily routine of taking care of the kids, the house, running the errands and not to mention running "mums taxi" and this is all she gets.  Where had the romance gone! After the first years and the kids, it seemed as though life had become a collection of routines.  Even the children, much more concerned about the way they looked, had forgotten. Finally the house was hers and she stepped into the shower.  She recalled the excitement she felt when the guy at the gym was flirting