My journey started with nature

I was in my mid-twenties when someone planted the idea that I should become a professional massage therapist. I was on the production staff at a journal publisher in New York City. My colleauges were other twenty-somethings, overworked, overstressed, underpaid and unappreciated.

I don't remember exactly when I started doling out the massages, but gradually I gained a reputation as the go-to person for a quick shoulder rub. If I stepped out for a cocktail at the local bar, my coworkers would literally line up for quick neck rub. Then it went beyond the crew I worked with - soon editors, VPs and HR people would wander over to my cubicle to see if I was busy. There was a day that they had a health fair in the conference room... free blood pressure screenings, flu shots and the like. There was a massage therapist too, with his chair and only charging $1 a minute. He didn't get much business that day because everyone knew they could come to me for free. "You should do this professionally," people would say. "Maybe later," I always thought.

Eventually I moved onto a non-profit organization that paid better, but with less a familial culture. I didn't offer shoulder rubs anymore. I did send for some information from the Swedish Institute, and even attended one of their open houses, but I mentally filed the idea away as something I could always do later in life.

September 11th was a sharp reminder that right now was all we have. My career wasn't all that rewarding, in fact, I was severely stressed out from it all the time. My husband and I moved to northern New Jersey in October. By January, I was enrolled at the Healing Hands Institute part-time while continuing to work my day job.

To be continued...