The Tale #35 - The Bodywork Psychologist

Gil Arati, BODY PSYCHOLOGIST, was a tall, wiry, dark-haired man, with a dark olive complexion. He introduced himself and walked me into his large office/studio that had views looking out over Northern Manhattan. This was the Big City bodywork dude who was going to cure me.

“Let’s start over here on the mat.” Gill said with a sly smile. “So you say you are experiencing a lot of energy in your body?

“I’ll say.” All of a sudden my head twitched side to side. There was something about him that was unsettling, odd. My body didn’t like him. He was creeping me out.

“Ok lets try a roll down.” He said firmly. “Just drop your chin to your chest and roll down. I want to see what is going on here.”

I rolled my spine slowly. As I got to about halfway, my body suddenly shook up and down and I started to hyperventilate slightly.

“HMMMM….” Gil sighed. “When you reach the bottom, roll up very very slowly.”

I reached the floor and then I slowly rolled up. As I reached that same point in the middle of my spine, I started to bounce again, this time more violently.

“Huh?” Gil said. “Now roll up all the way and then down again.”

I rolled and then started rolling down again. This time at that same point in my spine my head started to shake violently side to side like something out of a cartoon.

“Continue down and then roll up again. There’s a lot of energy here. Lots of energy.”

Gil seemed perplexed.

“Yes, there is…. Lots of energy and this is only about 5 on a scale of 1 to 10."

“And you say this started from Yoga?” he questioned.

“Yeah. Yoga. Do you believe it? Next time I need stress relief I’ll work more."

“Can you roll down again?”


This time my entire body bounced as if I was on a bouncing trampoline in an earthquake.

“I’ve never seen this.” Gil said semi-shocked.

“This is nothing. You should see me on a good day.

“Really?” He was totally perplexed. “Ok roll up. Now I am just going to touch some points on your body. How does this feel?”

He touched a point on my back. My right arm leaped out to the side and I started to breathe heavily.

“Huh?” he murmured. How does this feel?”

He touched a point in my lower back. My head vibrated side to side.


He looked at me for a long very uncomfortable moment.

“OK……Let’s have a seat.”

I sat on a small black couch off from the matted area. He sat across from me on another small black couch.

“So have you ever considered neuroleptic drugs?” he asked softly.

What the hell was he talking about? I am not crazy. I am not my father. There will be no shock therapy on my watch. No F-ing way!

“No. Neuroleptic Drugs shrink the brains of monkeys.” I replied. “My brain is small enough now.”

“Uh huh. Hmmmm.” He stared at me again for another long uncomfortable moment. “What is that I see in your eyes? Is it anger?”


“No, there is no anger in my eyes. I have people in my hips.” I replied defiantly.

He stared.

“It seems like there is something behind your eyes that is angry. What is it?”


“There is nothing angry behind my eyes.” I whispered hoarsely. “Behind my eyes is my shrunken Monkey brain.”

“That’s funny.” He laughed.

“I’m being serious.” I stared at him.

He looked down and then looked up again into my eyes. I stared back. He stared even deeper into my eyes. My eyes locked back in the ultimate status battle. I would not look away. There was no ANGER in here. No F-ing Anger!

“I still say I see something behind your eyes.”

“Well, you must be hallucinating?” I fired back. “Maybe you should prescribe yourself some neuroleptics.”

He smiled again oh-so slyly.

“Maybe I should.”

There was a long pregnant pause.

“So can you help me?” I asked.

He stared.

“I think I can.” He paused again, and then smiling again oh-so slyly… “But it is going to require us to get together and do some very challenging work.”

“I’m up for it. Are you?” I smiled back.

“I see anger in there.” he stated bluntly.


“I have no anger in my eyes. If there anger anywhere, it is in my hips. I have god-damned people in my hips, but there is no, I repeat no, anger in my eyes.”

He stared, paused for a bout 20 seconds and said, “I see. So why don’t we set up a time for our first real session and we will take it from there?”

I was so mad. I came for his help to get this stuff out of my hips and here he is accusing me of having ANGER in my eyes. If there was any anger in my eyes it was created by our interaction.

“Sure. Let’s set up a session.”


So we set up an appointment for the next week, but I called him the next day…. It went like this:

MESSAGE MACHINE: Hello, this is Gil Aratz. Please leave a message when you hear the tone.


“Hi Gil this is Ken Wolf. I am calling today cancel our appointment.”

Tears started to arise in me, a waterfall of emotion…

“I want to be very clear with you. There is no anger in my eyes. There is no anger in my eyes.”


“Someone once said that “The eyes are the windows to the soul.”

My body started to shake as salty tears of forgotten pain fell on the phone.

“Well, my soul is not angry. My soul is not angry! My soul is loving and strong. It is the one part of me that has kept me going, kept me alive through this process of trying to cure myself.”

My whole body started to tremble.

“My soul is all I have. And it is not angry. It is my best and truest friend. So I am cancelling our session next week and forever. What you saw in my eyes must have been your reflection.”


I hung up slowly.


I could sense a presence in my left hip, scared, so so scared, ...Baby Ken.

And in my right hip, another presence, a foggy memory of my distant past, arising, growing somehow out of my body. It had no name, yet I knew what it was.


It was Evil.


Ken WolfComment