Last night I slept on a baseball. It was the next best thing to a backrub. Well, it was the closest thing to a back rub that I could come up with at midnight when I realized that nothing would make me happier than a massage.
I just placed that ball right in the curve of my back, laid down, and shimmied from side to side working out all the aches, the parts that get strained as I give piggyback rides to my kids in between conference calls.
It might sound a little sad when I describe my baseball massage to other people. It might sound a little bit like a “How did it come to this?!?” moment.
But it was actually an empowering act of self-care.
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