I often think that each one of us carries an incredible, living story within our very tissues. It’s a story written not just in words, but in the way we hold our shoulders, the way we breathe, the patterns of tension or ease that reside in our muscles and joints. This story is shaped by our joys, our sorrows, our daily habits, our deepest beliefs, and all the myriad experiences that make us who we are. As a bodyworker, I feel my role is to be a gentle, attentive listener to these embodied stories.
When someone comes to me for bodywork, they often arrive with a specific chapter of their story highlighted – perhaps a persistent ache in the lower back, a stubborn tightness in the neck, or a general feeling of being wound up and unable to fully relax. These physical sensations are like signals, important messages from the body asking for attention. And while my hands can help to soothe these immediate discomforts, what I’m truly interested in is the broader narrative. What is this particular sensation trying to communicate about the whole of you?
I believe that our bodies are incredibly wise. They don’t create tension or pain just to be difficult. These are often protective responses, ways the body has learned to cope with stress, injury, or emotional holding. For example, if we’ve spent years hunched over a computer, our shoulders might round forward, and our chest muscles might shorten, not out of malice, but as an adaptation to that posture. Or if we’ve gone through a period of intense worry, we might find ourselves clenching our jaw or holding our breath, again, as an unconscious way of bracing against the perceived threat.
My approach to bodywork isn’t about “fixing” these patterns as if they are mistakes. It’s more like entering into a respectful dialogue. With gentle touch and careful listening – both with my ears and with my hands – I try to understand how these patterns came to be. What are they protecting? What are they trying to achieve? Sometimes, just bringing a kind, non-judgmental awareness to an area of tension can be the beginning of its release. It’s as if that part of the body finally feels heard and understood, and can begin to let go of its holding.
I often use the metaphor of a “unique universe” when I think about each person’s body. Every universe has its own laws, its own rhythms, its own constellations of sensation. What works for one person might not be what’s needed for another. That’s why, for me, there’s no single recipe or fixed routine in a bodywork session. I try to “soften enough to really listen, to really feel” what your particular universe is expressing in that moment. Sometimes it calls for very light, subtle touch to encourage the nervous system to relax. Other times, a deeper, more focused approach might be helpful to release a specific area of fascial restriction or muscular contraction.
It’s important for me to say that I don’t see myself as the one who “heals.” I truly believe, as I’ve often shared, that lasting healing comes from within each individual. My hands can offer comfort, point out pathways, and help to relieve tension that might be obscuring your body’s natural state of ease. But the real shift happens when you become more aware of your own patterns, when your curiosity is sparked about how things could be different, and when your body-mind system begins to discover new, more comfortable ways of being. My role is more like that of a guide or a facilitator, helping to create the conditions where your own inner wisdom can emerge and do its work.
Think of it like a knotted rope. I can help to gently loosen some of the more obvious knots. But if the underlying way the rope is being handled doesn’t change, new knots will likely form. So, part of our exploration together might involve noticing, “How does this tension tend to re-form in my daily life? What small changes in posture, movement, or even thought patterns might help to prevent it from coming back so strongly?” This isn’t about adding more “shoulds” to your life, but about discovering more choices.
The body’s story is not just one of tension and pain; it’s also a story of incredible resilience, adaptability, and potential for joy and ease. By listening deeply and responding with gentle, informed touch, we can help to turn the pages towards those chapters of greater comfort, freedom, and connection with your own embodied wisdom.
