I tried to promote my doing cranial work in Baton Rouge years ago and remember my first ad was for it. It was the high art but I was determined. I saw a client here and there, one spa I worked at even added it to their menu.
The first client I worked with was a deep sea diver. He welded underwater in some crazy suit and was having headaches that turned into migraines. His girlfriend encouraged him to come in and in the 30 minutes I was given I walked in, put my hands on his feet and coned in. That is to say I breathed, relaxed and slowly tuned into what was going on. Two minutes in the guy said, “Hey Doc! The problems with my head.”
I laughed and realized this was going to be a long road. He didn’t know what I was feeling for, what I was doing and barely did I. Listening to his feet didn’t seem to him to be a treatment for head pain. I felt his head and could tell the temporals were involved. They didn’t move together so well, felt lopsided and the right side panned more slowly than the other. I only saw him that once and he saw no major improvement but I’d at least begun to work on people.
Months later a fellow massage therapist referred a woman to me for cranialsacral therapy specifically. I met her in the office, spoke with her and we began. I don’t recall what her complaint was, but I started at her feet and then moved to her sacrum. Placing one hand underneath her and one on top above her pubic bone, I settled in. 20 mintues later it felt like I’d come to. I’d tranced out, continued feeling the ebb and flow of her sacrum. In a space of calm and quiet I heard “it’s not right.”
My eyebrows lightly wrinkled and I listened, relaxed to hear the same phrase repeated. “It’s not right.” I didn’t resist, just let whatever it was through but after a few more minutes I felt I’d done whatever was needed here. I slid away my top hand, looked up opening my eyes and the client turned to look at me and let out the saddest, “Awww” in memory.
In a flash, I knew what was wrong. I knew what had happened. She’d been raped. I remained calm, finished the session and never said anything to her. You see, I wasn’t looking for that, wasn’t prepared to see it and certainly wasn’t prepared to talk to a client about something they hadn’t really told me. The flash left no doubt. Her response of “aww” felt like she finally found someone who could touch her in a healing way, to start the process of looking at what had happened.
None of my schooling, before or since has prepared me for these sorts of things. It’s come up again from time to time and intially I was scared. What if this thing turned on and I can’t turn it off? I don’t want to walk into the grocery store and feel this stuff. Over time I’ve relaxed, my yoga and meditation practice has grown and I’ve less fear of being me, even if that me starts to seem highly odd. I can only do what I do.
I pick up things from clients occasionally but it mainly passes through. I’m older, wiser and more secure. I’ve learned to settle in and not much surprises me. Well, not much except that the practice deepens and the harder you focus…the more you see.
