By Jeff Woodard
December 2007
The tug-of-war inside my head can be ugly. When the linear, logical left brain tangles with the emotional, creative right, you’d think something would eventually give. Often it’s a standoff. A draw. A tie. A dead heat. No winner, no loser. Just a lot of energy being exerted at offsetting the opposite side.
Deep down, I always pull for the imaginative right side to overcome the stubborn left. At once, I am a creature of custom, a proponent of the unconventional and one who goes by the book while longing for uncharted waters.
When I began my schooling to become a massage practitioner, the “left” held a decided advantage. I knew there would be quizzes and tests, “right” and “wrong” ways to do things, schedules to make, appointments to keep. There would be absolutes, boundaries and parameters. I was back in school. This is how it was.
So I studied for quizzes, memorized muscles and boned up on bones. The first few full massages I gave were to other students. Then outside personnel – the “models” – came onto the scene. Overall, I give myself passing marks for my first foray into massage. But my left brain was relentless. “Do this first,” it commanded. “Don’t forget to massage the ears,” it barked. “Oh, wait,” it would second-guess me, “what do I do next?” Though I got through those first sessions, the grasp of analysis paralysis often took hold.
The left held the upper hand into the second week of working on clients. “Do this,” “do that,” “don’t forget this.” On and on and on it went as I worked on Client No. 1 that day. Near the end of that session, I sensed change in the offing. The loquacious left was wearing me down. How was I going to get through the second client? I was simply too tired.
That’s when the right saw the light. That’s when my left brain raised the white flag. It cried, “Uncle!” and “No more!” It was a beautiful breakthrough.
Notions of needing to give a healing massage in systematic, methodical fashion quickly vanished. Proceeding in such an anal-retentive manner weighed too heavily on me; it was too physically sapping. So I did myself – and my next client – a huge favor. I just let it all happen as it was supposed to happen. I slowed down, didn’t second-guess myself (much) and concentrated on the main mantra of massage: “Energy with intent.”
Amazing what happens when the mind shushes. All that energy shackled by the left brain is let loose. It flows. It rushes. Then it gushes.
Did I remember every little detail, movement and technique during that second massage? Of course not. And that’s part of the beauty of this healing practice that blends science and art: No one massage will be identical to another.
At last: The left brain waves the white flag of surrender. I smile a sustained smile.