Friday, June 1, 2007

What is ashiatsu?


Has anybody every tried it? I'd like reports, please. For those not familiar with the term, it's a massage performed with the feet. In other words, the therapist walks on your back with bare feet. I used to walk on an old boyfriend's back and he loved it--and it was good for my core muscles, too! Other than having my little niece walk on mine a while back, I'm a ashiatsu virgin. She had great balance but her technique was wanting. (I think she was about eight at the time, so don't try this at home unless the person trodding upon you is, like, half your weight.)

Today practitioners use varying techniques that incorporate quite simple to elaborate systems of bars suspended from the ceiling, which he or she holds onto in order to control the pressure and massage strokes. Sometimes, the massage therapist will stand on the table with one foot and use the other foot to massage, thereby controlling pressure; other times he or she might sit on a massage-table-height stool and let the feet do what the hands normally would.

As with just about all spa treatments, ashiatsu is deeply rooted in ancient practices. This one comes to us courtesy of Buddhist monks who used to perform it on a mat instead of a massage table, which, take it from me, can hurt when them ol' bones grind into the floor. Ashi means "foot" and atsu means "pressure." Some say it combines the best of Thai massage, shiatsu from Japan and Keralite massage from the south of India.

Ashiatsu was trademarked by a Western woman named Ruthie Hardee who founded Ashiatsu Bar Therapy in Denver, CO. That--trademarking ancient practices--is not something I'm sure I know how I feel about.

Anyway, here's a good website. http://www.urbanoasis.biz/services/ashiatsu.php
Of the scads of spas out there, I trust Urban Oasis a lot. They're firmly grounded in the spa industry, being one of the "first on the block" and they consistently awaken us to new treatments that doesn't feel like mass production.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

The Conversation


To talk or not to talk? Should a therapist talk while giving clients massages? There’s only one answer to this question—for most of us. I found out, however, that there is more than one viewpoint today, while having lunch with a massage therapist friend. I was firmly of the belief that people don’t like to talk while being worked on; that it’s a distraction of such enormous proportion as to wreak havoc on the peace you came specifically to find. But Julieann made a great point. She said that people often LOVE to talk, even need it. She says there could be a variety of reasons for it but probably the most prevalent in her travels being that for many it takes off the edge of awkwardness that the intimacy of the massage room creates.

It makes perfect sense, and it was a real eye opener for me: Just because I like or need something in The Land of Spa doesn’t mean everyone else feels similarly. I compared it to Julieann with the foot-in-mouth sense I've occasionally felt when I've met someone and assume, perhaps by something as surface as their looks, that they share my political or social views—and then find out they don't.

But! As my friend was quick to point out, a good massage therapist will never initiate the conversation, won't harp on the weather, or her upcoming vacation. Rather, she will listen not only to the needs of her client’s body and individualize her work accordingly. She will also be alert to the emotional comfort level of each individual and help make them relax to the best of her ability.

So I’m not going to go around making those blanket statements anymore about the massage room needing to be a sacred space. That might be too much for some people, too precious for others. There are those who simply want to good kink-reducing rubdown and are happy to jaw on, well, just about anything. “I talked sports with a guy for 45 minutes yesterday,” my friend said. “I don’t even know where that came from.”

Then we laughed about how her husband had been providing a steady stream of sports-related material that she’d been collecting by osmosis, just waiting for the opportunity to download as needed . It paid off and everyone was happy.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

The art of healing lies within


Recently, I interviewed Brian Chambers, a fabulous massage therapist, acupuncturist and proprietor of Skylight Wellness (www.meta-ehealth.com/site/office/index.jsp). It was for the health column of the Rotarian International.

The story was to be a sort of primer on What is Alternative and Integrative Medicine? As it's such a vast topic, and because it's a rather conservative publication, Brian's comments never made it into my story. I'm glad to have this outlet to talk about some of his views, especially since this particular point has always been a sore one for me as well.

Brian talked about having experienced many "miraculous" results after folks used his services—about how people have bounced back from structural problems to organ dysfunction to debilitating pain. But, he said, he is always clear when he speaks to clients, stressing the body's innate ability to heal itself. "People heal. You heal. That's what the body does," he says. (Don't agree? Think about a simple cut on the finger to broken bones. You don't stay cut or broken forever; it fixes itself.)

Brian wanted readers and future users to know that the credit should always go to the organism, not to him--though his skills are certainly brought to bear to aid this rather awesome Master Plan. Any good practitioner will view educating the client as a lion's share of his or her calling. So stop and reflect on your body's innate ability and "pat yourself on the back," as Brian says.

That's why Brian is not crazy about practitioners describing themselves as "healers." That is not an allowable self designation for people in the healing arts! Let others come to you, love your work and get better. If they choose to call you a healer so be it.

What's wrong with self-described healers? It implies that you and I have no relationship to the methods the practitioner uses. And that's far from the truth; it's your body, your person, after all. We're partners in this. Spa going puts us in an unbalanced, vulnerable dynamic to begin with—almost naked and having given over power to a stranger for the next hour or so—why make it more so?

I'm all for the healing process just as long as we get equal credit!

Monday, May 28, 2007

We're no angels


When I was covering spas as a magazine health and wellness editor, I had this idea that we needed to write a spa "bill of rights" story. Of course the International Spa Association has had an official "code of ethics" for a long time. But I wanted something more specific and pointed. So I assigned it to one of my favorite freelancers at the time, the only one I knew who could get what I was after.

The story got a great response. It was funny, shocking and educational. So I followed up with a story that allowed the spa owners their chance to respond and rebut. Well. Boy. Turns out we're no angels when we walk into spas, either. I doubt that it's intentional--though one massage therapist reported that a guy got a hard on and, um, talked to her about it. But even she reported that that kind of behavior is rare indeed. But I heard stories about people insisting on keeping, and answering cell phones during sessions; others who arrived unbathed, smelly and with dirt crusty feet; and others whose mood would have been better suited to visiting a NASCAR race, or the roller derby.

What's that about? I think it's about a lack of knowledge on what constitutes being a good spa goer. After researching and writing that story my perspective changed a lot. I started feeling like these people were our true heroes, tasked with providing the most nurturing of experiences for us, sometimes with little in the way of return. (Think parenting an obnoxious and self-centered teenager.) That story made me realize that the spa door swings both ways.