Member-only story
Here is what I noticed about you.
She’s a climber, a dancer, a multi-sport athlete.* She biked to the clinic and will most likely go to a yoga class on her way home. She eats clean, but she’s not obsessed about it or anything. She will eat a piece of birthday cake or a cookie when she wants to.
She is healthy, and she is doing everything right. I say that every client is the expert on their own body. She is the expert-archetype. She knows her body so well, takes such excellent care of it, that she found her melanoma before it was much more than a spot just beginning to touch the dermis, the layer underneath the top layer of skin.
After the massage, as I hand her a cup of water, she stretches her shoulders and looks at me, earnestly. “What did you notice?” she says.
I stammer for a moment, surprised. What did I notice? She lives so fully and attentively in her body, I wonder why she even wants to know what I might have noticed. It seems more appropriate that she tells me what she noticed, that she educate me on how best to support and care for her.
She looks at me, that direct gaze, with the question still in her eyes. She wants something from me, something that I am not sure I even know how to give. She wants the report card.
The report card is the after-appointment summary, where the massage therapist lists all the…