Issue link: https://www.massageandbodyworkdigital.com/i/943527
come for massage today and, before they've finished their sentences, we are hard at work telling a story about how we'll stop that pain—for them and for us. And by doing so, we've lost the most important aspect of this work, being truly present with another. PATHOLOGY: I DO NOT THINK THAT WORD MEANS WHAT YOU THINK IT MEANS The word pathology comes to us, as do so many good and co-opted words in the English language, from Greek. Pathos means "experience" or "suffering," and the word pathology has been translated, in some texts, as "the study of emotions/passions." It's reasonable to say that a majority of people seek out massage because they are experiencing some kind of suffering. The Buddhists define suffering simply as "dissatisfaction with what is." In this definition, disappointment in the fit of those jeans you just bought is on par with starvation. There's no hierarchy. Ill-fitting jeans and starvation are both experiences that inspire us to wish things were different. That pretty much sums it up. Most of the people we touch are not happy with their bodies. Their bodies are causing them pain. Their bodies are not letting them run as far, walk as fast, or even live as long as they want. Their bodies are responding to messages from a disease or an injury or some misuse that is making their joints ache or their guts rumble or their feet tingle. They hate this, and so do we. They pay us to join them in their dissatisfaction, and then to fix it. In the West, we are conditioned to resist and avoid suffering at all costs. We feel pretty certain that any sense of physical or emotional discomfort is an indication that something is wrong. Very, very wrong. We have a hard time believing there is anything redemptive or valuable about being with our pain, with illness, or really, about being with any experience that isn't one we have envisioned for ourselves. We stand, demanding to "see the manager," when something other than what we have expected is what we see before us or, heaven forbid, feel inside us. And if you've been taught that your job is to do things with your hands that help people escape from their discomfort, you will be both always busy and never successful. Thanks to some uniquely raw and intimate encounters with a few profoundly ill people in my treatment room over the years, and thanks to some kind Buddhist and Buddhist-inspired folks who invited me to consider the possibilities inherent in simply feeling what I was feeling, I started to see, early in my practice, that all of my clients were frail and traveling around in breakable outfits that were mostly a mystery to both of us. The palliative-care patients, the marathon runners, the desk workers, the people in cancer treatment, the CrossFitters. Everyone. Every person I touched was supremely breakable and, in fact, as the second of the Buddha's Five Remembrances suggests, they were, as am I, "Of the nature to have ill health." GOOD LUCK WITH THAT Being a massage therapist in the modern world is a total setup. It doesn't matter where or with what population you practice. • "I've had pain in my low-back for the last six months. I've come so you can fix it and reverse it in the next 60 minutes. Go!" • "I have multiple sclerosis. My joints ache, and pain and anxiety keep me awake most nights. I've made a 45-minute appointment. Fix it, please." • "I am exhausted as I head into week five of radiation therapy for ovarian cancer. I'd like to have enough energy to be able to go home and clean my guest room for my sister's visit this weekend. You can do that in 60 minutes, right?" Take a minute to notice what's happening inside you right now. Maybe you're exhausted because this is what your job is like, and you feel like you don't help anybody. Maybe you're thinking, "Yeah, I can do that. What are you talking about? Piece of cake!" Maybe you're like, "Nope. This doesn't happen to me. I love my clients, and they all feel great when I'm done with them." Or, "My aunt/uncle/boss has/had low-back pain/MS/ ovarian cancer. I know exactly what will help." I wonder if we could notice the habitual responses these scenarios elicit inside us. Just notice, without judgment. Notice ourselves. Notice this person we're touching. And let whatever we notice just be true. b r e a k a b i l i t y 4