A journalist receives a treatment at our beauty salon in Ste-Thérèse. Here it is (so beautiful, so I'm sharing it, greeting and thanking our wonderful beauticians):
November and its gray rains. I enter a bubble. I climb the stairs and arrive in front of an alcove of light. The place is superb. Restful.
I'm offered a foot bath in perfect lavender-scented water. I've never experienced a more delectable welcome cocktail. My feet are already intoxicated, not knowing where my steps will take them. Suddenly, I realize I have no idea what's really going to happen other than to let myself go with complete confidence. Which I do.
The care provided far, far, far exceeds what I'm used to. The scents mingle, dance under my nose, and draw me sometimes into abandonment, sometimes into memories that tickle my happiness. The olfactory effect is felt (!). A sweet drug with an immediate side effect.
Then, magical hands rest on my face. These hands have the warmth of childhood, the tranquility of silence, and, above all, the benefits of a therapeutic touch. On the skin of my face, my entire body feels there, so weightless am I. I feel softer than fruit jelly!
The chair that supports me, something must support me, also gives off a gentle comforting warmth and, supreme attention, massages my spine by rolling and pressing. I no longer exist, I am!
I look out the window; November is still gray. I close my eyes again and touch my blue sky. I definitely don't want to open my eyes again. Slowly, though, I'll have to. The steps I climbed to get upstairs, I'll have to go back down. What an effort.
Yet, outside, a flock of geese was waiting for me. I would have followed them, I felt so free and happy. That's the Maison Jacinthe effect. Pure energy.
Danielle Cloutier
Journalist, FPJQ
