Reflex redux

I contacted the owner of the spa where my recent reflexology incident occurred. For those of you just stopping by, I wrote a post about an experience I had with a reflexology treatment that took me by surprise because it was so different than what I'd always known reflexology to be, and took my breath away because of my practitioner's aggressive technique. What I found out was both fascinating and really drove home my belief that we have to have more communication between practitioner and client.

First, it turns out that what her spa offers is Thai reflexology, the technique of which is different than Chinese or Japanese. (I figured there was no foul play, but because the menu did not indicate the distinction I didn't know what to think.) Secondly, I was told, her practitioner, an Asian, was not US-trained, accounting for even a bigger comprehension gap between us. Thai reflex—and generally all treatments before Americans hopped onto the spa bandwagon about 20 or so years ago—is designed to address health issues, such as increasing blood circulation, opening chakras or promoting healing, as opposed to being a relaxation vehicle as Americans think any spa treatment should be. While it's always going to be more aggressive (read painful) than other Asian reflexology treatments, this particular practitioner was practicing what he had learned, which did not particularly cater to the American mindset, a mindset that, again, is decidedly more leisure/pleasure oriented. Double whammy. (The spa operator reminded me that, generally speaking, historically and today the European and Asian styles are not all fun and games; it often hurts. "When I was in Italy [researching spas before opening my own] I went to several spas and I was often practically in tears," she told me.)

So how to manage the gap? Like all good spa owners, she was happy to know how I felt and will include a statement on the intake form to the effect of If you're experiencing pain, let your practitioner know. I asked her if she'd consider letting people know in advance that this might be different than what they might think it is and she said not really. "I've had so much reflexology and it's what I'm used to," she said.

At first I felt a bit put off by that, but after talking some, I came to understand her point. We're all coming from different orientations, levels of spa savvy and customs, so there is no one-size-fits-all solution. The best we can do is to come armed and willing to share our expectations, or at least know the questions to pose before entering the treatment room.

So our talk inspired her to think about additional questions to pose on the intake form such as What are your expectations for today's treatment? The question, we agreed, doesn't really hone in enough because first timers, for example, don't have a point of comparison. The question needs to be thought through more—something I said I'd be happy to think about, too, and to share if I had any brainstorms. But at least, I believe it's on the right track and might get people thinking, Hmmm. What are my expectations today, anyway? Or What do they mean by expectations? And that's a start. More on this tomorrow.

P.S.
Sorry for the gap between posts. My foot "sprain" was actually a bone fracture so I was a bit otherwise focused for a few days.