Disability and Empty Rooms

Today started off on a good note. I was awakened by the phone ringing, flew out of bed (to find Chester awake and already sitting up) and was greeted by our lovely Social Security officer, letting us know that Chester has been approved for Social Security Disability income. He'll get his first check in June, and has been approved for the full payment amount ($850/month). We are going to meet with the folks at the Social Security office next week to see if we can get the Medi-Cal expedited, since he has been approved for SSD. Apparently, the disability payments are the hardest thing to get approved for, so once the Medi-Cal people are alerted to his approval, he should get Medi-Cal right away. Feels good knowing that the process is almost complete and that Chester will be having a bit of an income starting in June.

After breakfast (goat cheese and cilantro omelettes), Chester and I went on a walk. He has been a bit more shaky and dizzy recently, so yesterday's and today's walks were a good accomplishment. It isn't safe to push through the dizziness and walk when he is feeling off balance, but we also need to keep everything moving. So the solution is to just keep trying- if the dizziness doesn't pass, we allow for a rest period and then try again in awhile. Eventually, Chester is able to stand, feel balanced, and go for a walk. It always feels good once we are started.

The move from Forest Lane is finishing up. Today I finished clearing out the massage studio. After wrapping the rest of the crystals, pulling down the tube lights that lined the ceiling, wrapping up all the beautiful art and sacred objects, and loading the car with massage stools and mirrors, I said a closing prayer for the studio. I sat on the steps and thought about all the people that arrived to the studio for a session with Chester, of all the numbness and pain, tightness and soreness that was carried up those stairs. I thought of my own visits to Chester for sessions, of the breathy anticipation of entering the warm and vibrant studio and finding a cozy table waiting for me. And then I thought of all the pleasure and enjoyment, the relaxation and peacefulness that was generated in that studio, of all the magical massage that Chester offered to his clients. The radiant aliveness of the bodies leaving the studio and climbing back down the steps. I thought of all the transformation that happened in the unassuming little massage cottage. I considered all of the beauty that was generated from the simple gift of breath, touch and presence. Turning my attention to the expansive, hazy view of the Golden Gate Bridge, I then considered all of the people Chester has instructed in touch and breath, all those folks to whom Chester gave permission to do their own sacred work. Knowing that these hands are still working, all over the world, I reminded myself that Chester is still very much at work. His magic is at work whenever one of his students offers touch to a client, loved one, or stranger. Chester's commitment to the breath is deepened whenever one of us bring the breath into consciousness and changes the moment with a single anal breath. With this knowing, I closed the massage studio, now just an empty room with lots of spiders feasting in the corners. I carried the final load down to the car, cried until it was safe to drive, and then whisked the final load of his belongings to Chester's home here at the loft. Tomorrow we will bring the bookshelves down, the final task of Chester's move, and start unpacking the crystals, welcoming them back home.