And Now For Something Completely Different

My face still feels smooth and dewy from my facial this morning. Even after sweating in 400 degree heat all day, my skin still has a velvety texture.
It's been a few years since I had a facial, and I've never had a spa facial before. I felt like royalty soaking my feet in a hot lavender flecked basin, grazing my feet over smooth stones at the bottom.

Today's spa treatment wasn't about fixing sluggish skin or normalizing a t-zone. It wasn't about turning back the clock on sun-damage or lightening freckles or erasing fine lines. As my feet softened in the water, lavender flowers collecting around my ankles and between my toes, Megan explained that within the experience of this facial and the space of the room, I was welcome to let go of burdens, and to welcome something new.

With this encouragment, and in a fragrant room she had prepared and imbued with the same care with which a priestess would cast a sacred circle, I thought of the foot bath as a symbolic threshold, and stepped out of the bowl and onto the table cum altar.

Sheila Chandra sang in the background, over sitar drones and syncopated tabla talas. Megan cleansed my face with something light, bright, and minty, moving her fingers in circles over my cheeks and forehead, tracing concentric circles over my third eye, then sweeping down the bridge of my nose, around my mouth and along my jaw, applying the cleanser in upward strokes over my neck.

We chatted about this and that as she worked, chimes hung over a lamp in the corner behind us tinkled softly. Megan removed the cleanser with a hot towel, swaddling my face, gently pressing on it before lifting it off, using the corners to wipe residue from the sides of my nose, hairline, chin.

The hot towel felt so good, I told her I wanted to wear one all the time, I don't care how stupid it looks. After every layer of the facial, she'd wrap my face up in the towel like a mummy, then when she removed it, my skin felt like it was being exposed to air for the very first time.

She massaged my hands and arms, feet and legs, and exfoliated my skin with an Alpha Hydroxy lotion using gentle circular manipulations. Then she gently pressed an essential oil blend with soothing properties into my face using the palms of her hands. I breathed deeply the heady lavender-comfrey scented concotion. Every cream, lotion, and gel she applied smelled exceedingly delicious. The multi-vitamin mask smelled of bananas--like the baby food--delectible.

While the dual-purpose masks (she applied a soothing mask underneath the multivitamin one) did their jobs, she massaged my neck and shoulders. Heavenly; just heavenly. I could feel my skin softening with each layer, and wanted to reach up and touch, but I resisted the urge.

The last towel--cold, and infused with sage, refreshed and renewed this sleepy girl. After my pores tightened under the cool wrap, Megan spritzed my face, neck and shoulders with a cucumbery-mint toner, then sealed the deal with a light moisturizer mixed with sunblock.

I'm still glowing. The whole experience--from the moment I stepped into the foot bath, was sensuous and bewitching.

Before I left the clinic, I picked an angel card from the bowl at the front desk: Clarity

Thanks to Megan's expertly administered facial, my skin, at the very least is clearer.

Those angel cards spook the hell out of me sometimes.