Waves of Ablution
by Jonathan Quince
Sunday, August 1, 2004 23:01:59
Warmth rippled across my chest as I sighed and sank into the deep bathtub. The water seemed to carry a motive of its own, coaxing my mind to unwilling relaxation and casting me free to float upon the bliss of perfect liberty; I closed my eyes and began to feel myself weightless, formless, hanging in my consciousness between the world of the physical and that of the spirit. But called by this newfound state of clean languor, a loosening of my machinery that I could barely abide, the week’s worrisome burdens welled up from the back of my mind and impelled me to sit up, to fight against the urge to let go, to tense as a spring coiling with energy.
Yet even as I automatically began to rise into a full sitting position, a delicate feminine hand shot out to my chest and pressed me back against the edge of the tub with unyielding firmness. I opened my eyes and remembered that I was not alone.
“Be still, my love,” spake Our Lady of Redemption as she placed her hands on my shoulders and settled me back into a lazy slouch with my chest beneath the water’s surface. I made as if to speak, but she pressed two fingers to my lips and shook her head gently. “Hush, and be still.”
I half-closed my eyes again and willed myself to follow her instructions, challenging instincts that had been honed to keep me on the edge. Docile currents tickled my chest as she drew her hands through the waters of the tub, stirring them as if by her motions she could bring forth some aqueous spirit to grant me kinship and healing. Yielding forth another deep sigh, I closed my eyes completely, leaving naught but airy light before my vision to accompany the sensations she brought to my body.
Slowly, peacefully, she began to touch my skin. I felt her hands moving over my body inch by inch, exploring it beneath the water as if mapping it, exposing purpose beneath her playfulness. I heard soft sounds of drips and splashes as she picked up her hands and reached for the soap, then a suggestive rustling as she rubbed it into a washcloth.
The feel of her hands back upon me was almost a shock in the placid and unchanging world to which I was becoming accustomed. I felt the soapy cloth slide down my chest, underneath the water’s surface, leaving a pleasantly scratchy yet slick trail in its wake. She started to wash me even though I was underwater, meaning more to soothe my spirit by pacific motions than to dislodge any trifling physical dirt that may have been on my skin.
With hands and cloth, she slowly worked me over from head to toe. The moments ticked by unheard as, here by the tub, we slipped into timelessness. Finally, when she was satisfied that every bit of me had been softly scoured, she asked me if my eyes were firmly closed.
Her voice seemed distant, ancient, disembodied as if it were spoken directly to my mind. Her question was so simple I knew it must be of natural cause, for I was in a world of safety and peace, secure in the knowledge that nothing could hurt me ever again. Upon hearing my answer to it in the affirmative, she gently admonished me to take a deep breath; then, seeing that I had done so, she took my shoulders in her hands and pushed me firmly beneath the soapy water.
As the airy world above disappeared and the water-sprites tickled me with their wings, I realized that the soap and the dirt had disappeared. I was in a pure, crystalline world of the cleanest water, water that transcended physicality to wash not the body, but the mind and the soul.
Waves of ablution washed over me, guided by Our Lady’s celestial hands. Blissful catharsis soaked through my being, taking away the corrosion of worry and sadness and fear. Liquid warmth and liquid light infused me with life, granting me the fluidity to melt away from my troubles and reform as a being of pure grace and pure peace. The water of the tub, now upraised to a state of holiness, mirrored the life’s-blood of my veins as Our Lady’s rhythmic motions of cleansing me reflected the beating of my heart. Even as the water’s currents lapped against my skin, I could hear the thumping play as primal music in the distance, enchanting me, making me surrender all sorrows to the fact of my own life and vitality.
My lungs caught fire, but I forgot them. No pain could touch me in the place where I was. Even as time fell away into the Void unnoticed, I stayed under until I felt her hands bringing me to the surface. The time until she did seemed an eternity encapsulated in an instant.
On opening, my eyes automatically fixed my gaze to her breasts. Soft, rounded, with one hard nipple each to punctuate their divine geometry, they filled my vision, consuming my consciousness with their gentle perfection as the physical world settled back into place around me. Finally, I realized where I was and raised my eyes to meet hers. She was looking at me intently, lovingly yet with a tinge of amusement. As she saw me returning to the world of cognition and self-awareness, her lips broke forth into a deep and inviting smile.
Words, for all their beauty, were not needed to beatify this sacred moment. With our ears filled by the soft rustle of her open robe and the gentle lapping of water in the background, all that was left to be communicated in the physical world could be spoken and heard mouth-to-mouth. Signaling that the cleansing was over and the dance was next to begin, she leaned over me and pulled me forward into a kiss.