A Story of Purpose and Peace-
One day, I had… a moment. Not an entire day, but one single, unexpected moment that turned into hours of hurt and sadness. It was words that got me this time. I let someone’s words in too deeply, and they hurt like a knife. Ironically, these harsh words were about their perception of my own words—words they saw as harsh or unkind. But those words felt sharp because, in my heart, I knew I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. I don’t ever want to cause pain. So, in response, I held myself together, stood tall, and kept calm. But there was anger in my voice, a tension just beneath the surface I didn’t want them to see.
So, I waited. I stayed strong, but I waited until I was alone. And as soon as I was, I let it all go.
I burst into quiet tears—powerful, silent, unstoppable tears. I cried until I could barely breathe, and in those tears, I felt the weight of all the worry, hurt, and tension I’d been carrying for days. It was like a floodgate opened, and I realized just how much I’d been holding in. Isn’t that how it often is? We carry so much, sometimes without realizing it, and one moment just tips the balance.
In that moment, it dawned on me that it’s often the people we love most who hurt us the deepest—and we, them. They know our soft spots, the words that will sting, the parts of us we wish weren’t so vulnerable. And despite knowing this about each other, we still hurt each other with our words. We still slip and say things that leave marks.
I was shocked that a single conversation had shaken me this deeply. And after I let it all out, I just sat there, surrounded by crumpled tissues, staring blankly at an object in front of me. My mind quieted as I stared, and my breathing began to slow. Gradually, I felt a surprising sense of calm settle in.
The object I’d been staring at? It was an old magazine with the word Breathe emblazoned on the cover. In the midst of my sadness, that made me smile. Right then, I knew that the only thing I really needed to do was to slow down and just… breathe.
As that calm settled in, I was reminded of why I do what I do in my career. I don’t offer counseling or advice. I offer something else—a kind of quiet healing. In the silence, with no words, just the invitation to breathe and the connection of touch. I offer a space where people can let go, even if it’s just for a little while. And I’m lucky enough to do this for both my clients and my loved ones—the very people who this story is about.
I often say that my clients help me as much as I help them, because giving a massage is deeply meditative for me, too. It centers me, calms me. I’m grateful I can share this feeling with others, to bring a bit of balance, calm, and peace into a world that’s often anything but. I get to help lift some of the weight off overstimulated minds and heavy hearts.
For that, I’m deeply thankful. And I’m grateful for my loved ones, even in spite of their sometimes hurtful words about my hurtful words about their hurtful words… and on and on.
Written Feb. 11, 2022 by Tiffany Scarpelli
Edited most recently Oct. 29, 2024 by Tiffany Scarpelli
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