Sometimes you have to be dangerously close to a problem to see the solution. Chris Smith understands this. A survivor of abuse as a child, Smith found bodywork to be a bastion in uneasy waters as she began seeking means for self-care as an adult.
Sometimes the most daunting tasks are the most rewarding. Cultural barriers surrounding touch, old habits promoting unhealthy environments, a lack of resources and funds, and the overabundance of unwanted children made Vonda Jump’s work all the more difficult. A Utah State University research associate in the College of Education, Jump didn’t mind the obstacles. In fact, they made her more determined to discover whether or not touch could change a child’s life. Her research subjects: The children of Ecuador’s orphanages.
A New York voice. An intentional pause between measured words. A snippet of emotion piercing the moment. A perseverance shining through a tired soul. This was retired New York City firefighter and massage therapist James Kearney telling his story in the aftermath of September 11, 2001.
I am not a “spa” kind of woman.
Or so I once thought. I’m an average, 30-something woman, who like all of us, is trying to find balance between work, family and self-care. I don’t get my nails done — they break before I get a chance. I’m not high fashion — I’m high comfort. I don’t revel in cosmetic excursions. My cosmetic bag holds base, blush and mascara; of which the brands haven’t changed in years. In my mind, I don’t sound like the typical spa-goer. But that’s not what “spa” is about any more.
Sometimes we forget how powerful sound really is. Think for a moment of the sounds which have affected you and your life: your newborn son cooing for his mother; the ocean’s soft song of welcome; an eagle’s cry echoing off the canyon walls. There are also those sounds we’d much rather forget: a terrified child screaming ceaselessly for a parent; the relentless howl of a land-stalled hurricane; and yes, the sounds of terror that came crashing through to us via television and radio on Sept. 11, 2001.
Sound is indeed a powerful element in our lives.
Walking up to this unfamiliar door, Joanie Heart was uncertain her abilities as a massage therapist would make a difference. For one of the only times in her career, intimidation was looming. It was 1997 and behind the door was a 25-year-old man, not so much unlike other massage clients she’d seen in her 14 years of practice, except for one thing — he was a paraplegic.
“I was afraid I couldn’t help him,” said Heart. “I’ve always been very confident in my work, but for a few moments I was uncertain. I was standing in the wilderness with no map of where to go.”
As a zealous fan of LaStone Therapy (the use of warmed stones as an integral part of a massage), I was eager to learn more about a new facial treatment called Euro-Stone Facial, which uses a combination of warm river rocks and cool gemstones.
Time to Help,
Time to Heal
Some gave money, some gave time.
Some gave blood, some gave love.
Some gave prayers, some gave touch.
Some gave tears, some gave hugs.
Some gave everything.
By Karrie Mowen (Osborn)
The phone calls I received in our offices the day of the Sept. 11 attacks were indicative of the shock that had enveloped a nation.
There is a quality of peace and calm when you duck your head under the still, early-morning waters of an empty swimming pool. A cocoon develops naturally around you, with the light and sound of the outside world finding only distorted reality in this quiet place. The sound of your heartbeat, the introspection that occurs and the warmth and safety of the water all lend themselves to a surreal sense of being.
Addictions come in all shapes and sizes. From the obvious struggles with drugs and alcohol, to the less recognized but often just as destructive bouts with gambling and shopping binges, addictions can hit anyone, from any walk of life.