By the time I actually got to massage school, I had already had more than 15 years of experience of professional touching. Sounds weird when written that way, but that's what I did. Since I was a teen, I've been a big volunteer type. Candy striper (do they even have them anymore!?), reading to the blind. During college and in my early 20s, I volunteered with rape and incest survivors, a health clinic and with those living with AIDS. Touch was integral part of all those positions. More importantly -- understanding how, when and what type of touch was going to help, not hinder.
Last year, the Army finally got a clue in realizing that pills are not going to be the only answer to help our warriors when they come back from war. The men and women who put their lives on the lives aren't comparable to the soldiers of yesteryear and the treatments must change as well.
I currently work with a select group of those living with trauma and although it is emotionally charged, it is the most satisfying work that I can ever imagine. These clients understand that integration takes the whole person -- body and mind -- and you'd be surprised to know what can go on in an hour while you are "forced" to feel my hands on your body and try, for just a minute, to stay within the bounds of your frame. If you've seen your best friend die in front of you, if you've been abused by a person who professed to love you, if you're body has been used not for pleasure but for sexual pain, you'll know that staying in your body can often be a trying existence.
I highly recommend speaking with your mental health care provider about whether bodywork could be an integral part of your integration. As many of you know, I am on objective therapist, with feet firmly planted on the ground but trauma work is truly... well, I can't find words, but if there was one "holistic" aspect of my practice, trauma work would be it.
Comments