Canny Granny

I have become a fakir. It had to happen.

When I told my son, his eyes rolled like a startled horse and he reached for the phone. (None of them can wait to put me away).

But I haven’t started tramping barefoot over burning coals, meditating, levitating, or living on air and I have no foreseeable intention of doing so. Unless it’s living on air after I’ve paid off my Christmas debts.

What I have is a bed of nails. Well, they aren’t really nails and it’s not really a bed, but the spirit is there.

Mine is a modern bed of nails, a Shakti Mat, an Acupressure Mat. I’m told it increases wellbeing and decreases pain. It certainly increased my nap time.

Every time I lay (very carefully) on it I drop off to sleep like a drunken koala, perfectly balanced and perfectly content. And perfect for an afternoon snooze.

I don’t recommend watching a DVD while resting on the mat, you’ll wake up with the blasted movie finished and the disc stuck in a loop.

Let me tell you about the nails. The mat has little plastic spikey things on it which are the sterile equivalent of nails.

Rolling onto is is the tricky part, once you have your weight on the mat the pressure is distributed evenly. Quite comfy in fact.

The directions tell me that it will stimulate blood flow to all those bits and pieces of me that ache and complain, unclogging my joints as well as my mental blockages. Certainly my mentals need unblocking.

I’ll let you know how I go with it.