They say before you die you see your life flash before your eyes. This week-end I had the opportunity to see mine, without the dying part. I am glad for that part! I wanted to do a car wash flogging. I did one several weeks ago, but wasn’t able to go as far as I wanted due to the ropes. We had a suspension and a flogging planned. I have never been suspended, rope just isn’t my thing. I like it, it is pretty, I just don’t have the patience. The suspension was what stopped me. My leg went numb. I had to come down. The scene was ended. It was fun, but I wanted to try the car wash again, see how far I could go. Last night we did it again. I was in a massage chair, eyes blind folded., binaural beats playing in my ear phones. Tutivillus drew some binding signs on my back and both his and MindnBody’s arms. Later he explained the meanings. The open and closed areas for the flow of energy. Lifelines and energy flow patterns. The flogging began. I don’t remember much of the individual hits. The blows seemed to run into each other, an occasional wrap around would bring me to notice. Then I would pop up, yelp or curse. Slowly going back into myself and the “movie , my life in snippets. Swinging on the swings in elementary school, Giggling non stop with friends. Running around the old fields by my house. The same fields where apartment houses now are becoming old, run down “bargain” rental units. Yes, that many years ago. The childlike wonder of Christmas mornings. Almost TV sitcom like in those days, before the greed and materialism of today’s standards. Happy memories. Small, non-eventful moments, remembered in small doses. I remember giggling a few times. Recalling stunts we tried pulling, moving closer to the teen-age trouble making we did, that in today’s world would seem so innocent and non troublesome. Yes, I was a nerdy kid- just on the edge of being a cool kid, not quite there. I was happy with this as a teenager. I grew up with the “cool” kids in my town. Had known them since I can remember my firsts- kindergarten, skipping around the neighborhood, playing dodge ball, football, making sand castles and as we grew older, sleep-outs in the empty lot between our houses. These moments played in my head. Between junior high and high school we moved. To a larger house. My mothers dream house. Perfect in her eyes, the kids could still go to the same schools, a sheltered neighborhood,  The first I had ever heard of a homeowners association, a monthly fee for having a park, and activities just for the neighborhood use. Our house bordered the park. Easy access to the large expanse of grass, playgrounds for the younger kids- the older ones later at night, and stuffier neighbors.  But not close enough to my old friends. I made new ones. They were not stuffy, nor “conceited” as my old friends complained. They were nice, accepting and fun. Many good times were spent in the park, hanging out with friends. Talking about the future. My old friends were nice enough. I wasn’t included in their plans anymore. I watched them start high school becoming what they always complained about my new friends being. Conceited and mean to others. I was very glad I was not among them. I was never the object of their meanness. I knew them too well. I was just glad I wasn’t one of the “cool” kids anymore. I was just accepted as, well, just there. Not one of them, but not an object of their ridicule. Funny how I have always described my inclusion like this in most of my descriptions in life. Work life, social life etc. through the years. Not quite a part of the group, but not unaccepted. Talked to when around, treated ok, but not totally accepted and included in the initial plans. A periphery acceptance. Moving on to later days, I remembered the fun times of young adult hood. My times spent at the local watering hole, Trying to manage parenting, school and fun. Somehow doing it all without knowing how I did. Growing up, learning the good and the bad about life. Then the stinging sensations began. I do not like stingy. I prefer thuddy. Thuddy sensations put me in a very nice gooey spot. Melty as I like to call it. Stingy makes me angry. Sitting up in anger I am told to not sit up, it is not acceptable- injury could occur and the scene will be done if I do it again. I want to return to the happy memories, I lay back down face first into the chair. The happy memories do not come. Now the sadness. Memories of the unhappiness, the disappointments and the pain in life. Many long forgotten. Relationships gone bad, memories of betrayal, hurt and anger. I think I am crying. I start to get a bad memory, a harsh mean word said to me. Then a realization. Good ones pop in over the bad ones. Harsh words heard with a follow-up of truth from a memory that dispels the words. Swirling of the two. I am now feeling stronger. The negatives I feel are being crowded out with the actions. I hear a phrase I heard when I was a girl, teen age and pregnant. Very looked down upon back then. “You will never amount to anything, you will be a Welfare bum you know.” Followed by my running into this same person as she is ringing up my groceries that I am buying for my party for Graduation. I have just completed a Master’s Degree program. We talk some little small talk, I am not really interested in how many kids she has, how she hasn’t been able to go back to school or get a job that pays more than minimum wage because she makes more to stay home.  I don’t think I even told her what I was up to. I think it is ironic. Karma. Maybe. I feel bad for her. I don’t want to, but as much as I hate her comments, she was just young too. Hopefully she is happy. I continue to see moments of betrayal and negative for what they are. Non truths, people are human. Nothing personal. Everyone has things they are ashamed of, feel bad about, me included. I understand this. I am now going into more happy memories. The time spent with my mother before she died. We did not get along after my pregnancy. I did not spend much time with family for many years. The last few years before she died I became very close with them. I am grateful for this. We didn’t know she would die so soon. I was able to ask many questions of her. Put to rest many unknown whys and let the negative thoughts go about family. I have missed her a lot. Lately, I have been missing her more and more. Not sure why all of a sudden I do, but it has been increasing. I continue into happy memories. Then they fade. I am having a discussion with my mother. Questions, concerns. I am not sure what is real and what is not. I do not really care. I move on to a discussion with an unknown animal. And then clouds. Clouds dissipating from grey to white fluffy clouds in a blue sky. I am done. I am not feeling the blows but just think I have done what I set out to do in this scene. I sit up, I am asked is that red? I say yes I think I am done. The scene is over. I am oozing. I have never had open areas, skin bleeding or large bruises from flogging. We took some pictures. I need to take more as the longer it goes, more bruises show up! I had a fabulous time. I am sore and bruised. And more at peace I think. Maybe I can see myself more as part of things and not just accepted as being there. Who knows!