Issue link: https://www.massageandbodyworkdigital.com/i/588318
We know healthy change isn't a priority for bodies that perceive themselves to be in danger; survival is. Rick Hanson, in his book Hardwiring Happiness (Harmony, 2013), identifies three core needs for human beings to feel at ease and, therefore, have the capacity for healthy change in a therapeutic setting. The three core needs are safety, satisfaction, and connection. In other words, we need to be out of harm's way, be rewarded in a way that's gratifying to us, and experience supportive attachment to ourselves and others. As bodyworkers, we create conditions and provide resources for healthy change to occur. We do this in myriad ways: maintaining a comfortable, peaceful atmosphere; holding a nonjudgmental, witnessing presence; and, of course, using effective hands-on techniques. We also foster our clients' connection with themselves in body, mind, and spirit, helping them become aware of what it feels like to have their core needs met. Just like the calming atmosphere of our offices and our skillful, well-intentioned touch, our speech can be a resource for our clients. What we say has impact. We're seen as the experts in the room, so what we say automatically carries weight. Skillful use of speech lowers the power differential inherent in all therapeutic relationships and fosters greater autonomy and self-reliance in our clients. Striking the most useful balance between speech and silence—knowing what to say and when and how to say it—comes from understanding the different types of speech we may use during a session, being aware of the reasons why we choose to speak, and having the clinical discernment to know how our speech is being received: is it helping to foster greater connection within our client or is it distracting from the healing process? Learning to recognize all of this allows us to begin using our words more skillfully. Then, whether we're chatting about the weather, gathering information about a recent injury, or being present with a client as she experiences an emotional release, our words can be therapeutic. Now, I'm well aware the most common complaint about us is that we talk too much. I've read the surveys, and I've had clients come to me from other therapists for just that reason. But what's a conscientious bodyworker to do? Never mention the torrential rain outside (wishful thinking for this Northern Californian)? Remain mute when a client asks us what we notice, how our day is going, or if we've seen the latest episode of a favorite show? I was told in massage school to always keep the focus on my client. What I didn't get were the details or any supervised practice time. Once I was out in the world, I was left to figure it out on my own. So I asked senior therapists, got a lot of supervision, and made a bunch of mistakes. I did my best to notice what worked and what didn't. I also gained some insight into why our clients talk to us and how their speech, even if it may seem counterproductive, is likely aiming to meet a core need and, thus, can serve a therapeutic purpose. SILENCE ISN'T ALWAYS GOLDEN Our human need to express ourselves is innate and vital. If we maintain silence when speech is called for, we may actually be damaging the connection we have with our client. The following story illustrates this. Like I hope you are, I'm frequently a massage client. I'll never forget one particularly lousy session. He'd been billed as a skilled massage therapist, and I hoped to get good work. I also hoped to learn something, and I told him that when we met. He did a typical intake, and we got to work. I gave some feedback about pressure and he adjusted, but didn't say anything. That seemed a little odd, because most people will have a short verbal exchange, but his pressure did improve. Several minutes later, he used a technique I really liked, and I asked him about it. He told me, "Now's your time to just receive." I asked if he'd tell me about it after our session, and he said, "Now's the time for silence. Just receeeeeeeive." At that point, I was truly uncomfortable. 84 m a s s a g e & b o d y w o r k n o v e m b e r / d e c e m b e r 2 0 1 5