RITUAL WASHING 04/03/00 ~ Best of...

Subject: ritual washing
Date: Mon, 3 Apr 2000 23:06:40 EDT
(this e-pistle was originally reposted July 12, 2010)

I am just about ready for bed. If I peek around the corner of the computer studio, I can see the Spring Tree* all lit up and lovely in the living room. The sound of the Glencairn Horns drifts up from the living room and will be the last thing I hear before heading to the land of Winken, Blinken and Nod.

It is a serene moment.

Elsa just washed my face. You might be surprised as what a lovely ritual face washing can be. Every moment of it makes me feel like being at a super posh spa.

(Oh, the horns just played the crescendo from “Calm On the List'ning Ear of Night” and I am all goose bumps.)

First, the warm, soapy lathering up. It makes my face feel quite pampered and fussed over.

Next, comes the first warm rinse.

Then, my favorite, the hot cloth draped from forehead to chin. Ahhhh, that feels so good.

Then, the second hot application, this time focusing on my forehead. I do not know why my forehead likes so much attention, but there it is.

Finally, the cold application, which makes my face sit up and take notice.

The very last is having Oil of Olay applied to my face. Connie Rosenquist introduced me to Oil of Olay - not much hope of it doing a lot of good for this ancient face, but it feels so wonderful as it is soothed onto my face.

I never paid much attention to the sensual aspects (and I do not mean that in a sexy way) of washing my face when I did it myself. It was just one more thing to check off on my nightly routine. But now - ah, now it is a moment of luxury.

Blissfully yours - Ma Lockhart

*the Spring Tree was an artificial Christmas tree that we'd left up because, as Mom said, "It cast a lovely light." (One blessing of having an artificial tree - our 1999 Christmas tree was the first that wasn't fresh cut.) It was covered with hearts in February & decked out in spring flowers from March-May. The tree was set in the far corner of the living room, directly in Mom's line of sight from her bed.