Craniosacraltheraputicawesomeness…

Every week I count down to Fridays. Not only because I get to spend most of the day with Jeff but because my day starts with craniosacral therapy class at 9am. I don’t work on Fridays, so after a long week, I get to come into class and sink into the fascinating lectures my teacher, Rich delivers to us. Not only do we get to practice the techniques he shows us, but we receive the treatment as well from each other. It’s the most gentle, relaxing form of massage therapy I’ve ever experienced. It’s designed to help with a host of issues such as scoliosis, TMJ, chronic fatigue syndrome, emotional disorders…the list is endless. Rich practices in Evanston, not far from where I work. After a few weeks of class, I made an appointment to see him. Since that first appointment I’ve been going every Tuesday. I am still looking for something to calm down my incessant anxiety and chronic PMS. Sure, acupuncture has helped a lot and I’m grateful for that, but being that CST deals with the release of emotions, I thought I’d give that a try. Going into this, I had no idea what an emotional release would look like. For me, I’ve discovered it’s a whole lot of laughing. It’s spontaneous and I have no control over it. I don’t even know what triggers it half the time. Mostly, the laughter turns into tears. When I do experience a memory of some sort, I see it playing on a screen in my mind. I’ve seen myself as a child at church, playing the handbells. I’ve seen myself as a first grader singing “My Country Tis of Thee” with my class, and I’ve seen an image of my mother, one that I can only imagine I had as a very very young child. It’s brief, and just her face. She’s beaming and moving toward me as if she’s going to pick me up. She’s wearing something yellow and her hair is styled, feathered back off her face. Some unpleasant things have also happened as a result of doing this to each other in class. I say unpleasant but it’s neither or good or bad, just…maybe uncomfortable is the better word for it. Anyway. One of my favorite classmates worked on me and as I felt her hands envelope parts of my torso I began to relax. Then the memory flared up. It’s one that shall remain nameless but causes such extreme guilt and shame that my eyes flew open as a result. Slowly, I began to relax again, closing my eyes, then the memory came up again. This time I let it. I tried to breathe deeper and remind myself that I am 30, I am in Chicago, this is a classroom. It isn’t Atlanta. The images wouldn’t go away. The idea of vomiting came to my mind. I wanted to physically release whatever this was. I kept breathing though. My classmate had no idea anything was going on in my head. My body made no indications that such hideousness was happening. In fact, she felt my fascia releasing, my muscles letting go of tension and was excited about it. When she was done I practically slid off the table. I found myself forcing a smile, and trying to figure out how I was going to be able to give her a treatment. I knew all the motions but wasn’t present enough to really feel what her body was doing. I did it anyway, hoping I wasn’t negatively affecting her. I didn’t seem to be. Class ended and when I stepped outside my eyes were assaulted by bright sunshine and my ears felt like bleeding from all the noise of lunchtime in the Loop. I was on my way to meet Jeff. At his place I still felt out of it. We were going to see a movie but all I wanted to do was stare at a wall and or cry. Going outside seemed like the worst idea ever. By the next day I was still feeling like this. I emailed Rich and he wrote me back saying I had a partial release and he’d work the rest of it out on Tuesday. By the end of the our session on Tuesday, I was back to normal. There was a lot of crying, and a lot of shaking of my limbs but the storm passed and since then, the feelings and memories that came up that day haven’t returned. For me the most challenging part of this work is staying present. Not only when I’m being worked on but when I am working on other people. I am finding that I have a tendency to take on other people’s stuff. I absorb their energy and find that little aches or pains they have manifest in my own body. I have done this my whole life. Mostly without realizing it. I believe this is why I slept more during the beginning of my career as a stylist than I have ever slept in my life. I had no idea where my client ended and I began. Multiply that by 10 ( the approximate amount of clients I would see in a day) then multiply it again by 5 (the amount of days I worked each week) and it’s no wonder I developed a compulsive eating disorder and a lil bit of narcolepsy. Sometimes during my sessions with Rich he would feel more of my muscles releasing than I would. Sometimes I’d find myself laughing or crying and having no idea why. At other times I’d have no idea what I was feeling because I’d be talking so much to him. One time Rob came up. I was practically waiting for that knowing I have that experience trapped inside of me somewhere. It took weeks but he came up only once. During that session, Rich had a hand right beneath my lowest ribs and another one on my back. (underneath me being I am always face up on the massage table.) His hands were there but I felt a pulling on my chest. It was like having tiny little strings that extended from my shoulders to my heart. These strings were pulling my shoulders inward and tightening around my heart. I observed that for a while then a picture played across my mind. It’s Rob and in me in his parent’s back yard. He’s telling met that he likes being outside with me. I am laughing then the scene changes and it’s April 20th. He’s wearing a light blue t-shirt. He’s about to leave and I’m angry that he’s in such a rush but I‘m trying not to show it. He tells me he had fun cooking with me the night before and that he’ll have to make key lime pie for me. He says “I love you.” I see myself look at him, knowing I should, and I return the “I love you.” The scene changes again and I’m in the Jeep with him. This is most confusing as this part didn’t actually happen. I am behind him in the passengers seat. I know that we’re in the grass and not on the road. The Jeep is still upright and all I am focusing on is the blue of his sleeve on his right arm. Everything feels calm even though I know it’s not quite right. The images stop there. Rich dialogues me through all of this, asking me to describe what’s happening not only because of what he’s feeling but my torso is shaking. I see this part that holds this entire experience of my life as a creamy marble. It’s not as big as it used to be and it lives in my chest. I am surprised as to how clearly I “see” this little part. He’s asked me to put it away for now as I need to go about my day. I see a small version of myself (a very young version) placing the marble on a shelf. She’s fixated on it. When I tell this to Rich he again, talks me through walking away from it knowing I can come back at anytime. Since that session those images have not come back to my mind. It’s not that I believe they’ve disappeared, it’s just that I seem to have found a new way of letting them be. I haven’t had anymore releases in class which I’m kind of grateful for. I have a hard enough time allowing myself to let it happen when it’s just Rich and me. I’m not used to letting my emotions out. I’m not used to experiencing them. I am however quite adept at masking them, at pushing them away and pretending they don’t exist. When doing bodywork on people this can’t happen. I have to deal with my own stuff as it comes up so if and when a client is triggered, I don’t get triggered too. I actually have to learn what it’s like to inhabit my body, allow myself to get curious as to what’s going on. I have to remain present and take each moment as it comes. This is one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn yet. I still have no idea how to let go and just be. This class though, one Friday at a time is getting me just a little bit closer to that wonderful space. That space where I can just be exactly who I am and know that all is well.