Magic, the beauty evening ritual

Magic, the beauty evening ritual

There is magic in the evening beauty ritual because it brings us back to ourselves - that moment when we are finally alone with ourselves, listening to our inner voice. It is a time when the mirror tells us a story and when we look for the wisdom to regret less and to love more. I pour the oil between my palms and slide it over my face to erase the restlessness of the day, the tracks of energy that carried us through the day. I know that, I was a Parisian. Here in Tokyo, daily life is more serene because it is more disciplined. No schedule glitches, everything running smoothly allowing room for tiny pleasures. The attention to others, for example, which arises at every corner of the street. Delicate Keiko from my nail salon walks me to the door after my manicure lingers there bidding me farewell with her eyes until I am out of her sight. I walk out onto the street ,moving away from her but somehow feeling her presence. As I turn the corner and I catch a glimpse of her bowing one last time before I disappear. It is the traditional omiokuri, "to accompany with the eye", a mark of respect which prolongs the guest experience, and stretches the link between people.

Yes, tonight our skin has something to tell us - a review of the day: love, encounters, frustrations, children, meals, success, failure, or our idea of success or failure. We let our skin tell us with absolute honesty everything that happened Touching our skin, massaging it, being present in ourselves - is simply being. The cleansing oil takes away your makeup, your tired cells, the impurities; everything represented in our gestures, in every caress.

The next step is to remove the residues with a generous lather of rice soap, which envelopes me with voluptuousness and delicious aroma of cereal, a smell that is soothing. I am projected into magnificent and untamed Japanese nature. What if we were to stand still and let nature come to us with its flow of energy and inspiration. Let's stay suspended in the flow of time, open to experience. In my bathroom, the Great Wave of Kanagawa by the master printmaker Hokusai seems ready to sweep away the blues of the unresolved soul with its power. Mount Fuji in the trough of the wave does not flinch, immoveable Eternal. I think quietly. Relax. The outside world may be chaotic but my world is calm.

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