Non-attachment

With my new, most challenging crop of students, I have been thinking a lot about the concept of non-attachment.  Every Thursday, I walk into class feeling that being completely detached is the only way to survive, and also that being completely detached is the worst thing I could do for these students.

Today I came across this blog post about the nature of non-attachment.  In it, Sandra Pawla writes that when you understand non-attachment:

• Emotions arise, but you have space.  You have perspective.  Emotions don’t catch and torment you every time.

That is it.  That is the crux of what I wasn't getting.  I thought cultivating a calm non-attachment in the face of a room full of challenge was to shut it all down, to put my hands over my eyes and get down in a defensive crouch.  But the answer is to open and soften my eyes and stand, strong and flexible and present.  It is a daily practice which begins with a few minutes of awareness of breath every day.  

Last week, I kicked two students out of my class.  One went without argument, clearly upset but keeping it in check for a more appropriate time and place.  The second -- well, she would. not.  leave.  I found myself getting increasingly angered and frustrated that this person was taking up time I should be using to teach to draw attention to herself.  For a moment, I was caught and tormented by anger, unable to handle anything else in the room.  I had it on the tip of my mind and heart to give up, just let her stay and I could struggle through the last hour of class in anger.  I took a breath.  And another breath.  And stood up straight, and repeated, calmly, "Leave."  Then I turned back to the group of students I was helping and continued my work.  She left.  

Although there is no victory in someone disrupting learning enough to be removed from the space, there was a small bit of growth in standing -- strong, flexible and present -- while that little bit of chaos washed over me.  There is also a small bit of growth in the knowing and acknowledging my own sadness and concern about that one human being.  That kind of cry for attention comes from a deep ache, and I can't help but have compassion for her on a human level.  

Still, the gift of non-attachment that draws me into a compassionate place, also gives me strength to do what I feel is the greater good in the moment.  I hope, for the rest of this term, that I don't have to exercise this gift in this way again.

Having It All

Yes, here I am.  Yet another woman musing on the difficulty of "having it all."  I went about my tasks this morning -- eating breakfast, folding laundry, mentally preparing for a busy day -- and as I usually do, I let my mind wander a bit.  And, as sometimes happens with former Literature geeks, I started musing on the real meanings of words.

All.  It All.

What is "it all" anyway, and how do I know when I have it?  And while I'm on the subject, do I really "have" any of it?

This last thought stopped me for a minute.  Having equals holding equals grasping equals fear of losing.  So when I have, really and truly have, I put myself automatically in danger of living from fear of no longer having.




I see this often in my clients, and even more often in my students.  We acquire something -- knowledge, a skill, a new range of motion, and after the initial joy of the thing has faded a bit, we work extra hard to protect that thing, so we stop taking risks.  And we forget that taking a risk was how we got the thing in the first place.

For me, I have worked very hard and (for me) very patiently to get approved to teach S4OM-approved Oncology Massage Workshops through Greet the Day.  I finally got that approval, and for a while, I just held that approval in my hand.  I had it.

But not It All.  So, now I am taking the risk and reaching out to people I know, trying to create opportunities to teach this workshop.  I have put together a proposal for a formidable former teacher, I have contacted friends and acquaintances in other states, I have said out loud that I am qualified and ready to do this important and scary thing.  The risk of asking will soon (I hope) be overtaken by the risk of someone actually saying yes -- which requires doing.

Which brings me back to my Lit geek headspace -- having it all is an action, always in motion.  It is a goal which shifts as soon as we near it, and rather than frustration, that inspires a new burst of creativity.  Journeying.  Learning.

It is an excellent adventure.

My Guilty Pleasure

I did a lot of driving over the holidays, and a lot of switching around to unfamiliar radio stations.  Formats are similar everywhere, but there was still some regional flavor in the way the DJs interacted with each other and the audience, and in the time of some of the commercials.

Somewhere in between playings of "Dark Horse," I landed on a station playing a teaser for one of their end-of-year "person on the street" features.  The subject was guilty pleasures and holiday season indulgences.  In between the gushing over chocolate and sleeping in, one woman said this: "Massages.  That's my guiltiest pleasure."

What?

Apparently we still have a way to go in the public education area.  Because while a massage may be a pleasure, it should never be "guilty."  I have written in this blog about how your massage really benefits everyone you care for.  I have written about the modalities I practice, and the science behind massage.

Now I think I need to take a minute to address the idea of guilt and massage.  We overuse guilt for many things, but especially for those things which give us pleasure, and even more so if that pleasure involves touch.  Somewhere along the way, many of us learned to associate pleasure with things that were "bad for us" -- the taste of chocolate or coffee, for example.  And somewhere along the way, especially in American culture, many of us were taught that excessive touch was "bad for us."  The truth, as research proves again and again, is that touch is necessary for our emotional health, and really our basic survival.

So, please, stop calling massage your "guilty pleasure."  Where is the guilt in taking care of yourself, and engaging in activities which are necessary for your survival?  And when you hear someone else talking about massage this way, remind them that they are worth the time and the cost of massage.  Because I think that's what the guilt boils down to -- somewhere along the way, we decided that we are not worth it.

But we are.  You are.  

Oncology Massage?

I am in the process of getting all the training and experience I need to teach other massage therapists how to do Oncology Massage. This is one of my specialties, along with Manual Lymphatic Drainage, and one of the things I am passionate about teaching.

When I talk to people about it, usually the first reaction I get is a slightly quizzical look, and a statement like, "I didn't know there was such a thing," or, "Is that just massage for people who have cancer?"

Well, there is such a thing, and no, it is not "just" massage for people who have cancer.  It is so much more.  Anyone who has been through cancer treatment knows that the treatment (not just the cancer) can change and challenge your body in so many ways.  And often the treatment has long term, or lifelong effects.  Oncology massage therapists are trained to ask about these effects and work safely within them.  The Society for Oncology Massage has a great resource for patients and family members here.  If you want to know more about Oncology Massage, or if you wonder why it might even need to be a thing, I highly recommend you check out this link.

For myself, I have been struggling with one of the exercises we give to students in the Oncology Massage Workshop.  We ask students to come up with their own (short) definition of Oncology Massage.  I struggle because I find it difficult to convey all the education and all the mental maturity required to do that kind of work.  I struggle because the second reaction I usually get when I talk about it is, "Oh.  I could never do that.  It would be too sad."  Which puzzles me.  Why is it sad to give someone respite, space to breathe, an hour to reconnect with their physical body as more than "cancer patient?"  And how can I convey all of this in a short statement?

Here's my best attempt.  I'd love to hear yours, if you have one:

Oncology Massage is informed, mindful massage adapted to the effects of cancer and cancer treatment on the body.  It combines all of a therapist's education and training with an awareness of how cancer and cancer treatment change the body so that therapist can use their skills to create a safe, effective massage for anyone with a history of cancer treatment.

What is Manual Lymphatic Drainage?

I have letters after my name which are sometimes confusing: CMLDT. This stands for "Certified Manual Lymphatic Drainage Therapist," and it is one of my favorite modalities.  Manual Lymphatic Drainage (MLD) is vastly under-utilized.  I am making it one of my goals for the coming year to introduce this work to a broader audience.

MLD is a gentle technique designed to increase the movement of fluid through the lymphatic system.  The lymphatic system is our waste removal system, transporting fluid from spaces between body tissues into the cardiovascular system for delivery of nutrients and removal of wastes.  The lymphatic system also serves immune system functions. 

MLD has a number of applications.  Most people hear about it in reference to cancer treatment where lymph nodes are removed and the risk for lymphedema is increased.  MLD is certainly a powerful part of lymphedema treatment and prevention, but it has many applications for everyone.

For example, MLD was initially developed by Dr. Emil Vodder and Estrid Vodder as a method of treating the chronic colds displayed by English visitors to their clinic in Cannes.  Their techniques showed dramatic successes, relieving colds and sinus congestion almost immediately.  I have also seen this effect with clients who use MLD to manage chronic allergy-related sinus congestion. 

MLD Is also effective as part of the treatment for whiplash, injury-related swelling and post-surgical swelling.  The techniques are so gentle that they can often be applied very early in the healing process, even before traditional massage techniques can be used.  

MLD can also help with management of chronic illnesses such as fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome and rheumatoid arthritis.  In addition, people who suffer migraines or sinus headaches often find relief with MLD.  

My clients report that the experience of MLD is profoundly relaxing.  Even a brief, 15-minute head, neck and face treatment can help alleviate overall tension and stress.  I have also noticed decreases in post-workout swelling and recovery time if a client receives MLD right after a training session.  

In short, MLD can benefit you, right now.  I'd love to tell you more about it, and talk about how you can incorporate this work into your overall wellness plan.

Learnin'

I was talking with a friend about the venues in which I teach, expressing love for the teaching, but ambivalence about the venue.  And then she said something brilliant: "You don't have to be in that classroom to be a teacher."

Yes.  Silly me-- I thought the place defined who I was, but I forgot that definition comes from within.  So, now one of my goals for the next year is to find new, supportive venues to be who I am -- educator, massage therapist, kindness-bearing human.

In the grand tradition of what you send out comes back to you, a beautiful opportunity came to me.  Starting in January, I will be teaching an ongoing muscular anatomy class at a local dance and fitness studio.  I am excited and a little overwhelmed.  There is always that moment of "Am I the right person to do this?  Couldn't someone else do it better?"  I remind myself -- I am the best person for this, because I am the one pouring my heart and energy into it.

I can't wait to introduce a whole new audience to their own bodies.  It's like Schoolhouse Rock said, way back when:  "It's great to learn -- 'cause knowledge is power!"

Here we go.

Teacher's Pet Syndrome

Some people read WebMD and suddenly discover that they have multiple serious diagnoses.  Me, I I don't need WebMD.  I come up with my own fake syndromes all the time.  Today I have diagnosed myself with a serious case of TPS, or Teacher's Pet Syndrome.

Symptoms of TPS include: fluctuations in self-esteem, general discomfort around uncertainty, and unexplained desire to receive approval.  TPS is usually identified before the age of 10, although some rare cases may have an adult onset.  Once infected with TPS, the patient can experience long phases of disease inactivity, but flare-ups do occur, often without warning.  TPS manifests most seriously when the sufferer encounters questions for which she does not have an answer.  

Today, I suppressed a mild TPS flare up.  My client asked me to check a bump on the back of her neck.  "I mean, I know you're not a doctor and you can't diagnose," she said, "But I just want to know what you think.  If you think I should see my doctor or whatever." I was seized with uncertainty.  I palpated the bump on her neck.  I had no idea what I was feeling.  I just didn't know, and this made me extremely nervous. As a person who knows lots of other stuff, and enjoys teaching this stuff to people, it feels distinctly unsafe to admit when something is beyond me.

But it is even more unsafe not to admit when something is beyond me.  So, with my heart racing, I told her, "I don't know what that could be, but if you're concerned about it, you should see your physician." My misguided TPS instincts wanted to make up a plausible story about what it was, so that I could receive even more approval for the knowledge I have acquired.  Had I done so, I could have persuaded her not to see her physician at all, and who knows what that bump could have been.  

I often tell my students to be confident in what they say, even if what they say is "I don't know."  The point is that you don't build trust by making up semi-plausible explanations about health questions outside your scope.  You build trust by admitting when something is beyond your expertise, and gently suggesting someone seek the advice of a professional who knows.  

I am happy to say that my TPS is largely in remission now, so I will be saying "I don't know" whenever it is appropriate -- because I am confident in my knowledge, and in my limitations.