Day 5

I found out today that my body is an impenetrable fortress. Not in a good way: I am, apparently, completely blocked up. This according to Polyna, a permanent resident of Sifnos and practitioner of the Bowen Technique, commonly known as BowTech.

I met Polyna at Eleni’s a few nights ago; they’re old friends, and Eleni thought we should meet since I’ll be spending the next few months on the island. So I went over and we sat in the kitchen, and chatted over a glass of wine and a smoke. And BowTech came up, which I’d never heard of before, surprisingly, since I spent two years working in a yoga centre in London, and I thought I’d come across pretty much every variation of alternative therapy there is. Polyna, who treats all her clients completely free of charge, offered me a treatment, so I could see what it was all about.

And thus Eleni and I drove up to her house this afternoon – which was a revelation in itself. Perched, all alone, at the top of a hill, Polyna’s house has uninterrupted views of practically the whole of Sifnos, the sea, and the islands beyond. We were welcomed by a cat (one of several), Polyna, and her dog Coco, and ushered to the balcony which – no doubt helped by the infinity pool at its edge – felt like it literally opened up onto the ocean (see photo at the top). It was a perfectly still, windless days, sunny but with strange, heavy clouds drifting across the sky and casting their reflections on the sea; the sort of day that, Eleni claims, you only get to experience in September. It’s one of the gifts post-holidays Sifnos bestows upon those of us who stick around past the end of the summer. In any case, the overall effect – the solitary house, the stillness, the light, the clouds, the sparkling pool and the ocean – was entirely mesmerising. And made even better by the presence of two kittens lounging in the sun.

We had espresso and then Polyna led me to a room in the back for my treatment. Before she began, Polyna explained that she would apply certain moves, in sets, to different parts of my body, and then leave the room for a few moments, to give my body the time to process them and the freedom to react as it pleases. ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ she instructed. ‘Don’t censor it.’

So I lay there, first on my front and then, briefly, on my back, as Polyna went in and out of the room, accompanied by Coco (who, apparently, often assists on these sessions by showing Polyna where on the client’s body she needs to work). And with every move I expected something a little alarming to happen, hoped for it, even, but it never came. Certain moves felt as if they were spreading out to the wider area of the point they were applied, but my body had very little to say, and certainly nothing that might require censoring. With the last move applied to my head, Polyna told me to take my time getting up, and left the room for the final time. Coco stayed; I could hear her breathing somewhere in the vicinity of my feet.

When I stood up to leave the room, Coco lifted her head and gave me a look of concern, and then escorted me to the balcony, where I rejoined Polyna and Eleni.

‘How do you feel?’ Paulina asked.

‘Very relaxed,’ I admitted. No small feat, considering I’d spent the day in utter agitation, as a result of an earlier run-in with kickstarter (see below). ‘A bit lightheaded.’

Polyna nodded. ‘You are very tense.’

‘Yes.’

‘In all my time as a therapist,’ she said contemplatively, ‘I’ve never come across a body that did nothing at all.’

‘And that’s me?’

‘That’s you. You just wouldn’t let me in.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ I said, though actually, at the same time, I was. ‘It’s been a difficult summer.’ And it was: the last few months have been extremely challenging, in many different ways, and I’ve often told people I’d put up a fence around me, to protect myself.

‘A fence?’ Polyna laughed. ‘That’s no fence; it’s prison bars!’

So there you have it: I am uniquely damaged, imprisoned by my own body, and need help. But, luckily, help is at hand, in the form of Polyna, who offered (insisted, in fact) to give me weekly sessions for at least the next two months.

            ‘We’ll bring those bars down,’ she promised. ‘We need to. Especially if you want to be writing.’

And on the topic of writing, and the accountability I mentioned in yesterday’s post: I spent the entire morning (my allocated, non-negotiable working hours) creating a kickstarter project for 100 days of solitude. This included making a 3.5 minute video of myself, which took me the best part of three hours, and was absolutely excruciating. I am notoriously awkward in front of a camera; there is barely a photo of me where I don’t look like I’m having a stroke, and video is even worse. But I did it and, after a bit of drama whereby kickstarter was, apparently, unable to verify my identity (which sent me into a bit of an existential spin for a while), the project is now complete and ready to go live. My sister advised not launching it on a Friday night, as it has been observed that social media interaction goes down over the weekend. So I’m taking her advice, and waiting until Monday. (My friend Procrastination is delighted; she loves it when things are put off.)

So great news: I’ll be asking you all for money soon! And as far as accountability is concerned, I think this is probably as accountable as it gets.