Massage & Bodywork

September/October 2012

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Page 75 of 132

That day, I remember "seeing" more clearly than I had ever seen before. By virtue of a curve, or a dip, or a rise, I knew where I was. I learned to trust my hands. of observant teachers close by. I felt the strong connections between my client and me, the other tables, our teachers, our school, and the world outside. Just as there was no sight, there were no words. No one spoke, and no one looked, but volumes were said and masterpieces were seen. I remember standing taller because I wasn't tempted to hang my head to stare at my hands. I remember feeling my own body's movement through time and space. I was lost in my sense of touch. The teachers had to quietly urge us on—we were lingering, slowing down, really feeling the body under our hands and not just touching it. We could have spent hours giving just one massage. I was calm. I was excited. I was alone, yet I was a part of the world. I felt and sensed so many things all at once. When it was my turn to receive, it was from a classmate whose hands—I knew from experience—I really didn't like. Yet after my massage, I was delighted to honestly tell her that it was the best massage she had ever given to me. Her hands were softer, her pace was slower, and there was no urgency or tension in her touch. That day has stayed with me. Now, as I work in my massage therapy office, I often close my eyes so I can see better. I find myself clearly visualizing my client, sculpting with my hands, painting with my fingers. And I trust myself more. Blindfolded massage was eye-opening for me. Nancy Elizabeth Goodpasture has practiced massage for more than 15 years. Contact her at Visit the newly designed Log in. Explore. Enjoy. 73

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