Archives for posts with tag: patience

When I was young I hoped to find love. I never expected to find it in a seminar for manual therapists.

In any Zero Balancing workshop, a common belief holds that mutual respect and safety to be oneself fosters rapid and deep learning. As a result, at the opening of a ZB class there is presented the concept of holding each other–including oneself–in the “highest personal regard.” In other words, before we put our hands on each other, especially when we have no prior knowledge or relationship with the person we are about to touch, love overrides any tendency or propensity for snap judgments or prejudices or assumptions about the other.

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Evaluating the pelvis in Zero Balancing. Photo by Kim Lindner, Time Bandit Photography.

In this way, because we all agree to do it, we let go of the norms that rule most social or professional gatherings. How often have you been in a group where you scan new faces to see who you might trust and call friend and who feels strange, risky or even phony? It seems to be human nature to huddle with those who feel sympatico or like-minded while discounting others who seem just that–other.

In my Zero Balancing training experience spanning sixteen years (and I’ve noticed that over time, I seem to be getting better at H.P.R., so it is a practice!), in groups from Boston to Chicago to Baltimore, I join others in consciously, yet tacitly, acknowledging that we all have hearts that have been overlooked or trampled at many points in our lives. If we are going to make any headway in our work of learning and practicing a therapy that works with bone-held tension–hence the deepest parts of ourselves–we had better feel not only safe, but also loving towards those with whom we engage. Love, after all is a potent healing agent, and love is the glue that bonds parents with their children, life partners, and other deep and lasting connections.

“The greatest disease in the West today is not TB or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved and uncared for.” –Mother Teresa

“Highest Personal Regard” offers a chance to experiment with loving those you might discount, disregard or shy away from. Its request is to respect others for their humanity, their intelligence, and their sensitivity, for as I’ve learned the hard way, even the toughest looking people have soft and tender hearts.

 

Amanda King
© October 3, 2018
Salem, Massachusetts

Patience makes for an excellent therapist-client relationship. People in crisis are a handful. Often, they need not only your hands, but your ears, eyes, and undivided attention. They need time and patience and compassion. How can anyone let go of their burdens without these things?

My great joy in being a massage therapist and bodyworker is not just loosening a muscle. It’s loosening a life pattern, detangling defenses and soothing a jacked-up nervous system. This takes patience and consistent willingness to be with my client as she is, without the desire to put her on the fast track to physical and emotional stability.

In working with several clients, I had to set aside my personal frustration with their distractability, chronic lateness, bad moods, grating tone, and seemingly self-absorbed behavior. I also chose to listen without rushing them to the table, whatever the day’s schedule. Had I discounted them or dismissed them on this basis, I would have lost connection to human beings I greatly admire: people who have endured great pain, peril, betrayal and calamity, and who are fighting to right the ship of their lives.

How can I judge a person on a first impression? I long ago learned the danger of that. My most treasured friends are people I might have labeled “difficult” or “self-absorbed” or “too nice,” had I not waited for them to reveal their beautiful hearts to me. On the massage table, whether clients seek massage therapy or Zero Balancing, people drop their defenses and release their peccadilloes. They become still and trusting, cautiously testing the waters of their own deep inner sea.

I stand by as a grateful assistant, a Carol Merrill or Vanna White who, with a touch, shows them the right window or door leading to undiscovered treasures: a joyful body memory of swimming as a child or being held by a parent; or a well of grief under a rib that now can be drained; or the epicenter of some mysterious pain or chill in a hip. Afterwards, they  breathe easier, or laugh, or yawn after weeks of insomnia.

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It is a tremendous privilege when I am lucky enough to witness this unfurling over time. Repeatedly, I observe remarkable transformations as people discover their inner strength and vitality. One woman who believed she was destined for a wheelchair after several surgeries rediscovered the strength of her legs. Another plagued with anxiety and the need to rescue others tapped into her own inner calm and clarity around her boundaries and role. A third stood up to her abusive boss, showing courage I’m not sure I would have.

In each of these cases, I could have considered these folks drains on my body and my heart. However, in witnessing rather than ‘fixing’, I simply give them time and space enough to shed the stuff that’s holding them back, which life rarely seems to do.

 

© Amanda King
Salem, Massachusetts