a trip to puglia

declaring our self-worth from fingers to toes

A few weeks ago we went to Puglia, a region of Italy next to Campania, the region I live in. I had booked this trip before we left the States and was really excited about a special farm stay at a masseria in the countryside near the ocean. A masseria is a farmhouse from the 16th century, normally converted to guest houses. Masseria Montenapaleone seemed special to me because of their focus on using products made on site, like olive oil, wine, and herbal remedies.

As a treat, I booked a massage for myself. Letting myself rest is a very long battle. Since moving to a foreign country I don’t know that I’ve been in a parasympathetic state, or a state of nervous system regulation, very often. I haven’t had my regular tools and I also haven’t been prioritizing my exercise and meditation practice. This was my chance to “relax”.

The massage was in the Herbarium, which was a gorgeous little building in a garden. We started off the massage by dipping my hands into a brightly colored bowl of water filled with herbs. I took a deep breath and tried to relax, but my breath felt sticky. I was nervous; I am not used to such fancy things or even having the full attention of someone on me. I started overthinking, letting things ruminate in my mind, or even judging myself for “wasting” the experience. Finally having a few minutes to sit alone with my thoughts was deeply uncomfortable for me. I was still having trouble until he got to my feet. The masseuse worked as if he was writing code; each point of my foot unlocking a sensation in the rest of my body. My foot was a canvas and no corner was left white; the arches were pulled upon, the little spaces between my toes were gingerly rubbed, the heel stretched and kneaded. He touched new crannies and nooks I didn’t know about, exploring gently and pondering all those lives I’ve walked, all those miles I’ve traveled. His soothing artistry made me very emotional and I started to tear up.

I immediately thought - am I someone who deserves to have their foot rubbed? So tenderly, with so much intention and devotion? It’s easy for me to imagine my partner deserving a foot rub like this, so why is it hard for me to believe I deserve this? Imagine thinking every part of you is so special, and so unique, that just for being here, just for taking a breath on this earth, you are worthy.

In fact, I don’t need to do anything to deserve this kind of love and attention. I don’t need to make a certain amount of money, to fit into a size 6, or to write in my gratitude journal. I am not good or bad depending on if I’m late, or if I forget something, or if I only eat carbs and cheese, if I am sober of if I have too much to drink, if I have a beautiful home or a tacky one, if my personal brand is confusing or if it’s clear, if I hold onto anger or I let it go.

I am worthy of love and devotion. It’s easy to say but harder to believe, from the core of your soul to the light that shines externally. After the massage I was content and in peace, as I was served a lavender water and sat in the garden, watching the bees sift through the flowers.

How do you allow yourself to be taken care of? Is it easy for you to receive attention from others?