Tarra-Bulga Tony Jarrah

We’ve all heard those stories before—someone stranded in the middle of nowhere, usually with a broken-down car, and out of the blue, a stranger appears. This stranger is always kind and helpful, fixes the problem, and just as suddenly as they came, they vanish, like the angel on the road. These stories have a mystical quality because the setting is always remote, far from any obvious help. Naturally, the question arises: Where did this person come from, and where did they go?

I had my own experience with such a stranger today, and I must say, it was as much beautiful as it was eerie. Let me take you through it.

For the last few months, I’ve been dealing with a persistent pain that sits between my shoulder blade and my kidney on the right side of my back. It’s been a constant companion, a 7 out of 10 on the pain scale, though at times it shoots past a 10 like the Road Runner. I have no idea where this pain came from or why it’s so intense, but sometimes, it literally takes my breath away.

Today, I was trekking through a national park, and the pain decided to flare up again. Usually, it’s just there in the background, but my brain manages to block it out. Not today. It hit hard, and I found myself wishing I had brought some painkillers along. Normally, I’m well-prepared, but today I wasn’t. The walk was about half an hour downhill to a hanging bridge, and that part was fine. But the return trip—well, that was all uphill and muddy. Very muddy.

Walking uphill is a challenge in itself, especially for an unfit old guy like me. But throw in a muddy trail and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. As I climbed, leaning forward to combat the incline, the pain in my back intensified. It was unbearable. I found myself deeply regretting not having anything on hand to ease the pain. But what could I do? I just kept walking, pushing through, as painful as it was.

Then, halfway up the hill, I felt my sock being pulled down into my shoe. Annoyed, I stopped to pull it up. While bent over, I managed to pinch the muscle at the top of my shoulder, the spot where the neck meets the shoulder. I don’t know if you’ve ever pinched a muscle there, but the pain starts off mild and then quickly intensifies to a gazillion out of 10. It’s fast and brutally painful.

I was with someone at the time, but aside from her, there wasn’t a soul around. This park is tucked away high in the mountains, at least a good 45 minutes to an hour from the nearest town. When I say it’s in the middle of nowhere, I mean this place feels like Mars. So, there I was, hunched over, clutching my shoulder in excruciating pain, and my other arm just hanging there uselessly. It was truly debilitating. At this point I forgot all about the back pain because the shoulder pain was so intense.

Then, out of nowhere, a woman appeared. She was middle-aged, with bright blue eyes, a very soft and gentle look about her, short grey hair, and a purple streak running through it. Around her neck was a silver pendant in the shape of an angel, with some kind of stone set in it, though I was in too much pain to figure out what kind. She asked what was wrong, and I explained that I had pinched a muscle in my shoulder, even gesturing to the spot with my left hand.

Without hesitation, she offered to give me a massage. She said she was a Bowen therapist. I had no clue what that was, but I was in so much pain that I didn’t care. I’m not the type to accept help from strangers, let alone let someone I don’t know touch me, but this was different. I was hurting, and I was grateful she was there.

I took off my jacket on that side, and she began to work. But here’s the thing—she didn’t touch my shoulder at all. Instead, she went straight to the spot between my shoulder blade and kidney, the exact place where I’d been feeling that nagging pain for months. I hadn’t even mentioned that pain to her. How did she know?

Her massage technique was unusual, nothing like what you’d expect. She wasn’t rubbing or kneading the muscles. Instead, she was almost jabbing at my back and chest, even getting up under my armpit at one point. She kept telling me that this was where the problem was. All the while, she had a gentle smile on her face, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

After a while, she stopped, but only because I thanked her and told her I felt better. In truth, I could’ve let her keep going for hours because it felt so good. The funny thing is, the pain in my shoulder disappeared almost instantly, even though she hadn’t touched it at all. We chatted for a bit, just some small talk, and then we went our separate ways. She headed down the hill, and I continued my climb.

As I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something strange had just happened. This woman had appeared out of nowhere, in the middle of nowhere, and then vanished just as quickly. From that moment on, all the pain I had been feeling was almost completely gone.

It’s late now, about 9:30 PM, and I’m still feeling unusually warm, almost like there’s an electric current running through my body. I can’t stop thinking about that woman. There was something about her—something more than just a kind stranger passing by. Was she one of those “Earth angels” people talk about? The ones who show up in your hour of need, help you through a tough situation, and then disappear as if they were never really there?

Who knows? Perhaps she was just a cute little lady walking past in the middle of nowhere, at the exact same time that I desperately needed help, and she just happened to be a Bowman therapist, and just happened to be kind enough to offer to help.

Or, she was an Earth Angel. Perhaps I will never know.


About the author:
Tony Jarrah is an Author from Melbourne, Australia.


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