My sessions start like most, where there is a short interview/update, a sharing of information to tell me the present state of being. This time gives me feedback on what we’ve done and direction on where we need to go. Listen, then move forward into treatment. Today, one of my morning sessions started just this way, with reports of a sudden “POP” in the outer knee region during a certain motion. No apparent injury or worsening of the condition, just something needing to make itself known. My patient and I negotiated a direction for the treatment and we began.
Those of you who are familiar with my work know I have moved into a lighter brand of therapy. Myofascial release is often said to be lighter than other forms of manual therapy, but many do not practice what they preach and roll up their sleeves to bury their elbow into the body with regular frequency. Using principles of therapy based more on a sound, neurological approach has quieted me considerably during therapy. I was taught early in my MFR training not to coerce, but now I really see what this can mean.
So, I grabbed a piece of Dycem and enveloped my patient’s fibular head region, moving in only as far as her body allowed, then waited for more information. 30 seconds into the technique, she asked if I practiced Zen. I suppressed a laugh, as with what little information I had about Zen, I felt myself the most un-Zen-like person I could imagine. I asked her what she meant and she went on to say that it seemed that when I put my hands on her I only move in enough to wait patiently for things to occur, rather than trying to create change by forcing my way in. She seemed to be describing zen (small Z) vs. Zen, not the spiritual/religious practice, and she thought that the way I was approaching her today was zen-like.
Forced to consult a dictionary for a better idea of what she meant, I found this on the Urban Dictionary:
zen
Zen is a school of Mahayana Buddhism[note 1] that developed in China during the 6th century as Chán. From China, Zen spread south to Vietnam, northeast to Korea and East to Japan.[2]
The word Zen is derived from the Japanese pronunciation of the Middle Chinese word 禪 (dʑjen) (pinyin: Chán), which in turn is derived from the Sanskrit word dhyāna,[3] which can be approximately translated as “absorption” or “meditative state” (my bold). Now we are getting somewhere.
One of the hardest aspects of hands-on therapy is to not try and force change. I am guilty of rolling up my sleeves on too many occasions. Thank you for reminding me that often less is more. Time to sit back and sink slowly – zen-like.
A wonderful article. I have never thought of the work being zen-like but I think that is right.
Thank you Walt, this description of “How to Zen” really resonated with me. It seems like everyone wants the elbow these days. so they get it. But for myself, I believe a Zen approach is more effective on so many levels. I would love it if my clients and the people whom I work for could understand. I’m seeking a more gentler approach to my technique for my clients but mostly for myself.
Walt, I love that story. Looking forward to your workshop at Cortiva in Hoboken, NJ, the end of February.
Walt, wonderfully put on paper!
Listening to the tissues and understanding them is a fundamental skill for successful bodywork. It is dramatically omitted in the basic teachings of contemporary Manual Therapy schools ; I’m glad you are teaching it. We all are responsible for what we teach to the younger ones.
Thanks to everyone. Aggressive work is not necessary. Change the rules!