Near the end of The Massage Medium, AurA leaves the reader with three simple words:
Ask. Receive. Trust.
The simplicity is intentional.
After a lifetime filled with spiritual experiences, difficult transitions, grief, unexpected encounters, intuitive messages, massage work, channeling, relationships, and personal transformation, the author ultimately returns to something remarkably uncomplicated.
Ask.
She describes learning that help often arrived only after she asked for it.
During her darkest period, she prayed for someone who could see what she could not see.
Soon afterward, she met Ann Reeder.
When she needed help caring for her daughter while attending massage school, a friend offered.
When she needed money for training, an unexpected tax return helped.
When she needed teachers, people appeared who could provide knowledge relevant to the next stage of her development.
AurA interprets these experiences as evidence that asking opens a door.
The second word is receive.
Receiving can be surprisingly difficult.
Many people are comfortable giving.
They help others.
They solve problems.
They take responsibility.
But receiving requires vulnerability.
It means admitting:
I need help.
I don't know the answer.
I can't do everything alone.
Someone else may have something I need.
Receiving also requires attention.
Help doesn't always look like the thing we requested.
Sometimes it arrives as a person.
Sometimes as information.
Sometimes as a new opportunity.
Sometimes as a difficult change.
Sometimes as the realization that something we desperately wanted is no longer right for us.
That leads to the third word:
Trust.
Trust doesn't mean believing that everything will happen exactly as we want.
It means continuing to move even when we don't know the entire outcome.
The author describes her spiritual journey as a long process of learning to trust the next step.
She didn't always understand why something was happening.
She didn't always know what would come next.
But she learned to recognize patterns in retrospect.
The fire that destroyed her massage studio became, in her interpretation, the end of a chapter she had already struggled to leave.
The people she met unexpectedly became important teachers.
The experiences that initially seemed confusing later became meaningful pieces of a larger story.
This doesn't mean every painful event has an obvious purpose.
Life can be genuinely difficult.
Loss is real.
Grief is real.
Uncertainty is real.
But meaning can sometimes emerge later.
The final pages of the manuscript remind readers that the journey isn't finished simply because a book ends.
The work continues.
The next season may require something different.
A new practice.
A new relationship.
A new form of service.
A new way of expressing yourself.
A new understanding of who you are.
And that is perhaps the most important message to take forward.
You don't need to know the entire path.
You don't need to have every answer.
You don't need to become someone else.
You can begin where you are.
Ask for what you need.
Remain open enough to receive what arrives.
And trust yourself enough to take the next step.
Ask. Receive. Trust.
Three words.
A simple practice.
And, in the author's story, the foundation of a lifetime of transformation.
