That Day in June, we had a conversation in the van.
“I think we should probably throw in the towel,” Husband Jamie said, “it’s been a long while and nothing’s happened. And I’m turning 40 soon. I don’t think I want to start a whole fertility process.”
“It’s been almost five years,” I agreed, nodding, “and I don’t want to start a fertility process, either.”
We weren’t officially “trying”. We hadn’t wanted to put a label on it, because it would have stressed us both out. But the proverbial goalie had been out of the net since the littlest was born, and there had only been one pregnancy since: a five-week blip back in late 2012. Since then, nothing.
I was pretty sure the Universe was telling us we were done. And, despite being a little sad, I understood. I loved our family. Three awesome kids, aged 14, 12, and 4. A great house. A wonderful extended family. A business I loved. Life was good. It was just time to end this chapter.
The gang
Flash back to That Day in June, Husband Jamie and I agreed that we would call our respective doctors to find out what was involved in the snipping/tying process. We went home to make dinner. I felt a little prickle of sadness, and then resolve; it was time to move on from the possibility of having another child.
There have been six pregnancies. The first was a total surprise; we were living together but not engaged yet, with no plans to extend our family beyond the two from Husband Jamie’s previous marriage. And then, on the Pill, I conceived without knowing it.
Whoops.
When we found out, it was a huge shock, but then it was over before the news had time to settle in. There wasn’t even really time for sadness with that one – it had been so unexpected that it seemed surreal.
Once we got married, though, the losses were harder. We were planning to expand our family. We wanted to do it in a hurry, before the kids got “too old.” Kaity was 8 then, and Liam was 6. I had three miscarriages that year, all before 8 weeks, and I felt helpless: why was this happening? Was it karma? Had I done something I needed punishing for?
Then, there was Molly. A stronger plus sign on the test. Fatigue. Sore hips. 8 weeks came and went, then 9, then ten. Ironically, despite my elation that the pregnancy was “sticking”, I was horrified at my changing body and resented my dwindling freedom. I felt fat, and cumbersome, and overwhelmed.
So. Much. Belly.
My postpartum experience was full of anxiety and turmoil. I told myself I never wanted another kid. Yet something inside me still insisted I wasn’t finished; I had an intense gut feeling that I would have another.
The years after Molly were filled with ovulation and pregnancy tests – at first to prevent pregnancy, and then, to welcome the possibility. I remained apprehensive. There was that short short pregnancy in 2012 of only five weeks, and then nothing for four years.
~
That Night in June, I went upstairs because I had to pee. Husband Jamie was immersed in something on his phone, and Kaity and Liam were just heading to bed. I was due for my period the following day, but as a result of our conversation I wanted to do one last test, just to get it over with.
I went into the bathroom, peed in the cup, and dipped the stick, knowing that it would be negative, just like all of the months leading up to this. Relief suddenly washed over me as I waited; no more monthly testing, no more back-of-my-mind wondering if this month would be The Month. We would be done this chapter, and I could focus on other things. I took a deep breath. Yes. This was a good decision. It was time to move on.
Seriously, Universe?
Except there were two pink lines. Then the second line got darker; it was unmistakable. I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from exclaiming out loud. Warmth flooded me. Was I hallucinating?
I’m not sure how long I stood in the bathroom before numbly walking downstairs. Husband Jamie looked at me inquisitively.
“So… guess what?” I said.
He blinked. I didn’t even have to say it. “Are you &*%$ing kidding me?” he asked.
And then we laughed a little, for there wasn’t anything else to do. He put a hand on my belly. “It’s a really good thing we bought a van”.
Oh hi, #BabyDaffodil.
About the Author: Jen Wright is an RMT and the owner of Whole Therapy. She is an avid gym-goer and loves to lift heavy stuff. She sees clients of all ages and stages, especially those who are engaged in bettering themselves. She believes that pain-free is possible. For more about Jen, click here.
Pain and tightness suffered post mastectomy/ lumpectomy can limit one’s life drastically. Myofascial Release can help create vast changes by softening dense scars and fibrosed fascia that remain unchanged with traditional therapy and stretching.
Axillary cording is a web of thick, rope-like structures under the skin of your inner arm. These cords usually start near the site of your scarring in the underarm region and extend down the inner arm to the inside of the elbow (sometimes they can continue down to the palm of your hand, or in to the chest wall instead of, or in addition to, the inner arm.
Traumatized tissue can have a cascading effect on the body. Locally, tightened and fibrous fascia can restrict blood flow and lymphatic flow resulting in lymphedema. Auxiliary cording can also occur, causing a significant loss of range of motion in the shoulder, leading to a loss of function. Pain and weakness can occur in the shoulder, arm and chest wall. Burning, pins and needles, numbness, or spasms can also occur in these areas.
Tightness, with time, can start to effect areas not associated with the scar even if these areas are far removed from the local site. Symptoms not “normal” to mastectomy, lumpectomy, reconstruction, or augmentation can start to occur. Headaches, jaw pain, low back pain, pelvic pain, digestive issues, postural changes, hormonal imbalances, etc, may become a “common” occurrence for you.
The inability to move, or the pain suffered with common range of motion and activity can become debilitating. This might happen immediately, or it might occur 6 years down the road. In real life it might look like the inability to wash your hair in the shower, get dressed in the morning, pick your child up out of the crib, hug a loved one, carry your groceries, drive your car, work at your computer, or reach up and grab the sugar out of the cupboard. No matter the role you have as a woman – mom, worker, grandma – your life is impacted.
Pain management and rehabilitation using Myofascial Release can help. Gentle and slow work done at the fascial barrier (on the scar and surrounding areas) can assist in restoring functional patterns by decreasing the restrictions.
Whether you had surgery, chemo, or radiation last month or 10 years ago, Myofascial Release should be added to your recovery process.
Tara Hagan-Fields is an RMT with Whole Therapy. Tara is a Women’s Health Specialist and Myofascial Release Therapist. She focuses on the body as a whole and teaches you to do the same. More about Tara here or find her on Facebook Tara Hagan-Fields RMT
Win with #ChangeOneThing!
September is often a month of reinvention.
We are back to school, back to work, back to “normal” life, and it’s right about now that everyone realizes they slacked off too much this summer/ate too much this summer/drank too much this summer/didn’t get organized enough this summer.
And then what happens? We look at our lives (which are about to get really busy between now and Christmas), and we panic a little bit.
I need an overhaul! We think. I need to completely change my diet/exercise/habits/life! I’d better start now!
And then we jump right in and change everything. For a week. And nothing sticks, and we very, very quickly revert back to our old patterns.
Anything is possible.
So what’s the cure?
Change IS possible. It’s just not feasible to change everything all at once. Changing one habit at a time and letting it settle is a much more successful (and way less stressful) way to better oneself.
When you change one thing at a time:
- You create positive and lasting deliberate change in your life, which increases your feelings of self-worth (not to mention your longevity and quality of life!)
- You can focus your best efforts on that one thing, increasing your chance of success.
- You can see the effects of the one thing on your life; the insight
Pick one way and stick to it.
gained as a result can lead you to your next one thing more seamlessly.
- You create mental discipline without overwhelm. One thing is manageable.
How to get started on #ChangeOneThing
- What’s your goal? Do you want to lose weight? Get healthier eating habits? Be less stressed? Be more organized for your kids’ school? Having a goal in mind is your first step.
- Break it down. If your goal is to eat healthier, for example, you want to start by either eliminating one unhealthy eating habit (say, eating chips at night), or adding one healthy habit into your routine (like drinking the recommended amount of water each day)
- …Or don’t. Have you ever just wanted to change something up because you need a change? This is also a good time for that!
Here are five fun #ChangeOneThing examples that will simply spice up life:
1. Have breakfast for dinner. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, the whole nine yards. Maybe even do it in your pajamas.
Breakfast for dinner – why not?
2. Change your work perspective. Colder weather is coming – why not spend an hour with your laptop out on the deck, or at the picnic tables near your office? If that’s not possible, change your screen saver to a new, fun picture, or an inspiring quote to motivate you.
3. Get a new ‘do. Revamping your style with a haircut or a new colour does wonders for your creativity and confidence.
4. Read that book collecting dust on your bookshelf. Or go out and buy a new one – you deserve it.
Put down the phone for awhile and get into a good book instead.
5. Take a class. Lots of general interest classes start in the fall. What are you interested in? Sports? Drawing? Photography? Salsa Dancing? There are hundreds to choose from.
Always wanted to try yoga? Drop in to a class!
We at Whole Therapy want to hear from YOU! Take a picture or write a post about your #ChangeOneThing experience. Don’t forget to use the hashtag #WholeTherapy as well. We’ve got some great prizes to give away!
Husband Jamie and I took the kids wilderness camping at Algonquin Park a few weekends ago; it was their first time, and they loved it.
Gorgeous weather as we set out. What’s not to love?
When camping, one has a singular purpose: to survive. There’s no luxury to camping in the wilderness, save for a decadent square of dark chocolate at the end of the evening, or a luxuriously dry pair of socks when your body is damp to the bone.
We pushed on, canoed until our arms and shoulders ached, carried our canoes and packs on our tired backs, found a place to rest, set up camp and made food to fuel us. We slept when it darkened. Then we woke up and did it again. In between, we swam and laughed, interacted with each other (without the distraction of electronic devices), made up stories, sang songs, and observed the wonder of nature. It was amazing.
Yes, the pack IS as heavy as it looks.
The rhythm of camping and portaging is simple, satisfying. I felt better about myself camping (dirty, calloused and aching) than usual, and I didn’t touch a phone or look into a mirror in over 72 hours.
That’s not an accident.
I was able to really feel my body on our trip. I felt the strength in my legs and back as I hefted my 65-pound pack (and added Little One’s pack to it as well, when she tired). I felt my hunger rise up as we finished setting up tents: a natural reminder to eat for fuel rather than out of habit or boredom. And I sank into sleep each night, sardined in with Middle and Oldest, I felt heavy and worked, and grateful to be lying down, and even though a thermarest is hardly a plush mattress, I slept like the dead.
If only life were so simple, I thought as we travelled – a clear purpose, a drive and need to succeed.
Reflecting on life in my journal.
But life is so many shades of camping – not quite urgent, or so much more so, not quite survival, but living “to the fullest” – whatever that means.
Everything in nature does its best to adapt. Not like humans, who try and shape the world around us to fit our own needs. In nature, even an acorn blown by mistake to the edge of a cliff will grow sideways and thrive as it reaches for the sun.
We need to learn to grow sideways.
In this way, the simplicity of the wild is so much more advanced than our technologically brilliant society; we, in the acorn’s position, would look for a better, more advantageous spot to grow, and though we may grow straighter, taller, we would miss out on that amazing view. Not to mention, we would miss finding out what we are made of.
I thought about that acorn, and survival, a lot on our trip. Obviously we were close enough to civilization that most emergencies could be easily rectified. But most of our creature comforts were taken away: no couch to laze on. No phone to surf Facebook. No coffee maker, no takeout, nothing quick. If I wanted a meal I had to work for it. If I wanted to be entertained I had to use my imagination.
Little One hams it up in the tent.
There was no passivity, no boredom. Only a deep sense of appreciation for the skills and strength I possess, my family, and all the beauty nature has to offer.
And now that we’re home, and continuing our journey here, I’m more than content with some wine, some good conversation, and a sunset. More rolling with the punches, less trying to shape the world to my whims.
I want to see the view from the side of the cliff.
About the Author: Jen Wright is an RMT and the owner of Whole Therapy. She is an avid gym-goer and loves to lift heavy stuff. She sees clients of all ages and stages, especially those who are engaged in bettering themselves. She believes that pain-free is possible. For more about Jen, click here.
Got my red belt in karate this weekend. My first coloured belt; I’m no longer the lowest on the totem pole! My gi has pizzazz now: and I’m proud fit to burst.
Celebrate!
So often, in the dojo and out in the world, I see people brushing off their achievements.
“Yeah, I just ran a 10k, but it’s not like it’s a marathon or anything.”
“I did just work for 5 years to lose that weight, but it’s no big deal; I really shouldn’t have been fat in the first place.”
“I got my red belt, but it’s just red – I have a long way to go before my black belt.”
Seriously. Can we cut out the false modesty?
Seriously. Cut it out.
Achieving things makes me happy and fulfilled. As it should. I work deliberately to get things done. I’m not the kind of person to whom things come naturally.
My fitness level? Worked my ass off (literally) to get here. I still work extremely hard; if I didn’t, I would be much weaker and flabbier. My pear-shaped body likes to be softer; I was never the skinny kid, and I never will be able to just eat whatever and not gain weight.
So I take pride in completed workouts in which I did my best.
My business? I went through a lot of change and learning to open it. Then a lot more to transition it to something I truly believed in. It’s been tough – rewarding, but really tough. Some days it stresses me out, and other days I revel in the smoothness of operations. But it’s never easy.
So I take pride in the new things I learn and the firm decisions I make.
And now, my red belt. In March, I had never done karate before. 4 months later and I’m committed to weekly (or more) classes in the dojo, and practice with Sensei Jamie outside of that. You’ll often find me brushing my teeth in shiko dachi, a wide-legged stance. I have to repeat movements about a million times before I’m even serviceable at them (choreography of any kind is not my friend). I love every minute of each comfort-zone-pushing class.
It’s NOT just a red belt! It’s the culmination of my hard work so far. 🙂
So you’d better believe I’m not brushing these successes off. You shouldn’t brush yours off, either!
Little triumphs can make the difference between a fulfilled life and an unfulfilled one. If I work hard, I celebrate. I don’t need to win a gold medal in the Olympics to be proud of myself.
It’s not, contrary to popular opinion, arrogant or overconfident to celebrate your achievements, rather it’s a necessary component of living a happy life.
Did you exercise today? Pat yourself on the back. Did you check any items off your to-do list? High five! Notice I didn’t ask you if you’ve hit your goal weight or completed your to-do list; those are bigger celebrations. The little ones count too, though, and should be recognized.
Whether it’s a belt in karate, getting my shopping done, eating well today, or something else, I’m going to continue to live deliberately, working towards and celebrating the milestones, whether they are big or small.
Life’s too short: celebrate every bit of this journey.
About the Author: Jen Wright is an RMT and the owner of Whole Therapy. She is an avid gym-goer and loves to lift heavy stuff. She sees clients of all ages and stages, especially those who are engaged in bettering themselves. She believes that pain-free is possible. For more about Jen, click here.
I’m on a mission to “create space” in my head. That was part of my homework when I had my nutritional consult with Karen, and I’ve been searching for it ever since.
Meditation is the obvious choice for opening the mind, but meditation, it should be said, is like stabbing myself in the eye with a fork is not really my thing. I can’t picture myself sitting cross-legged doing nothing but contemplating for any length of time. Actually, thinking about it now makes me laugh – my three year-old, Molly, would be like, “Cool! Mum’s a jungle gym!” in about five seconds. Plus my mind wanders incessantly, and my inner monologue would no doubt have a field day: Why are you doing this? This is boring. This is stupid. You have an itchy leg. What’s that noise outside? I wonder if that laundry’s done. What is Molly up to? Is she colouring on the wall again… and so on.
So no meditation. But space is still the objective. Running helps, but I need something more.
A few weeks ago, our family joined a local dojo. Husband Jamie has studied martial arts since he was six years old, and his old Sensei practices nearby. He thought it would be a good experience for all of us to join together. So off we went.
I was nervous at first. Even with all of my fitness experience, I have never delved into the world of martial arts. It was an entirely unexplored arena for me; a thought that both terrified and excited me.
My first few classes, I followed along tentatively as we punched, kicked, and learned the white-belt katas. My choreography skills and spatial perception are crap, let’s just get that out of the way. It’s a wonder I can tie my shoes in the morning. Thank goodness I don’t operate heavy machinery for a living.
Sweat, eyebrows scrunched up in concentration, more sweat, repeat this move, repeat that move. And again. And again.
Soon, I realize, I’m starting to get it. I’m moving in the right direction! I can high block and low block and even kick a bit without falling over. It isn’t pretty yet… but I’m realizing that it won’t be unless I repeat those movements thousands of times over.
I watch Sensei Jamie in his black-belted magnificence, doing the same movements as I am, yet with an assured confidence, and an air of absolute mastery around him. He has practiced these moves for thirty years. I’ve been practicing them for thirty minutes.
Still, I see what is possible, watching him. The katas are beautiful, thirteen ways to artfully kick your opponent to the curb. When I practice, I see each movement as it comes, and I struggle to remember how to execute the next one. When Sensei Jamie practices, I see no struggle behind his eyes: just a space in his mind that is both peaceful and full of warriorship.
I want to get to that place.
And so I go to class. I practice at home. I’m dreaming about karate, and my body is learning and adapting to new movements and mindsets. I never would have dreamed I would love it so much in such a short time, but I do.
As the journey continues, I for once am not focussed on the end result. I don’t really care to get a higher belt, or more recognition, or really ever lay a hand on an enemy for real. I’m focussed on getting to that place of serenity that repetition brings; that bubble of nothingness that I’m on the edge of grasping. I’m almost there.
Jen Wright is an RMT and the owner of Whole Therapy. She is an avid gym-goer and loves to lift heavy stuff. She sees clients of all ages and stages, especially those who are engaged in bettering themselves. She believes that pain-free is possible. For more about Jen, click here.
I’m standing naked in front of my full-length mirror. This is my exercise in exiting my comfort zone today, and boy, is it ever working.
Having grown up in a rather liberated household, I’ve always been comfortable disrobing in front of others in a change-room, or around family. Disrobing in front of myself for the purpose of affirmation, however, seems terrifying by comparison.
During yoga training this weekend, we spoke a lot about our comfort zone, our ego, and the things we tell ourselves. Here’s the gist:
If I go about looking at my body from a place of hate, disgust, or shame, I propel those feelings into the future and am guaranteed to live them. I know this. We all know this. But it’s easier said than done to love yourself all the time and look at your body from a place of love, acceptance, and pride.
I wrote a blog recently about how everyone’s body is perfect, and I really meant it. I meant it about myself, too. But living that “perfect imperfection” daily is about meaning it when I’d actually rather cut myself down. Hence the nakedness in front of the mirror.
I deserve to be happy in my own skin, though, so I try and change my mind and look at myself from a place of love. I choose not to think this a hard task. My inner monologue goes like this:
I don’t look like I used to look. I’m softer. My first thought is to hate it, but I’m not going to hate the softness today. Today, being softer is ok. Women are curvaceous and beautiful. I am curvaceous and beautiful! I look strong, still, and even though there’s cellulite there and more fat than I’d like, I look good. Husband Jamie hasn’t kicked me out of bed yet 🙂
I smile at this, laughing at my thoughts. My smile is nice. I have wrinkles beginning, but they’re from laughing, not frowning. Hey, this is easier than I thought. I have nice hair. My shoulders are muscular. My tattoos are all so me, I love them.
And then I try an affirmation, and to my surprise it seems like the next logical thing to say, rather than the awkward, touchy-feely sentence I had originally thought it was:
Really seeing oneself requires courage.
I am worthy of receiving love and happiness. I am beautiful and strong. I can, and should, think good things about myself.
The world doesn’t end. No one comes barging into my room to stamp me on the forehead with “You’re such a cliché.” Amazing.
One of the big lessons I took away from yoga training this weekend was that I have to be vulnerable in order to really connect: with others, as well as with myself. If I let myself be vulnerable, there is always the risk that I will have my heart stomped on, but there is also the risk that I will find a place of happiness within myself that I never knew existed.
So today, I stand vulnerable in front of the mirror. Totally exposed and wholly myself. Today, I have succeeded in both exiting my comfort zone and believing that I’m worthy of love and happiness; that’s a big win. Some days I will undoubtedly find this exercise more difficult, but at the end of the day, change is about programming positive thoughts into my head as much as I can.
Because after awhile, thinking: I’m such an idiot. I’m so fat. I’ll never look/act/be the way I want will come true. If I say it enough, I’ll believe it. My body will believe it. My energy will reflect it. Isn’t it more productive to program the good stuff instead?
More of using my body to train my mind. The journey continues.
Jen Wright is an RMT and the owner of Whole Therapy. She is an avid gym-goer and loves to lift heavy stuff. She sees clients of all ages and stages, especially those who are engaged in bettering themselves. She believes that pain-free is possible. For more about Jen, click here.
My first experience witnessing our body’s natural ability to move freely, unwind, and heal from our past was in Chicago over 4 years ago. The course I was taking was offered by John F Barnes, a Physiotherapist known all over the world for his work in Myofascial Release. Seven years earlier I had read about Barnes during Massage school; now I was finally learning from him.
On our first day, as I watched a fellow therapist walk up to the stage, I thought I had walked on to the set for America’s Funniest Home Videos. After a quick evaluation, she got on the table. We all sat there listening to what John was saying and watching him stay in one place holding the barrier (meeting the tissue resistance and staying there) on this therapist. As we watched, she started to shake as though she were cold and she began to move without any encouragement or assistance from John. Her movements were quite graceful, almost like a dance. Then she froze in space, not moving from a v-sit position. She wasn’t there long, maybe 2 breaths before her body relaxed again on the table. The whole time, John was holding the barrier never moving, never changing his pressure.
A few thoughts went through my head: 1st, OMG, what the hell have I just got myself into? 2nd, Are these cameras here for these prank shows? And 3rd, Have I just wasted a lot of money to be here?
I then got on the table; my partner held out at the barrier of our first instructed release. Her hands were at the base of my neck barely touching. She stayed there and waited.
Just as my colleague minutes before, I felt a sudden shift happen in my body: My breathing stilled, and then got smoother. I felt cold everywhere. My pelvis got heavy and I was no longer aware of my legs. I was however, very aware of my right arm. I felt an intense heat and pull through the front of my shoulder. It scared the living daylights out of me, and for good reason: The last time I felt so much sensation in my shoulder was 15 years prior.
I had been throwing a ball from 3rd base, and as I released the ball, I grabbed my shoulder in pain; this was the same pain I was feeling laying there on the table.
Without consciously doing so, my arm started moving through this sidearm throwing range, the same range that I once had but hadn’t been able to execute since my injury.
More thoughts: 1st, OMG what the hell have I got myself in to? 2nd, who is this man, and what kind of course is this? 3rd, I need to throw a ball!
That night, I threw a baseball, sidearm, for the first time in over 15 years. It felt amazing! I felt like a teenager again! I felt like I was going to try-out for the Blue Jays and be their first female 3rd base-woman! I sat down on the golf course where we were and cried because it felt so good! And yet I was so angry that I had missed out on so many years of playing competive ball because of this injury.
Part of me still had no real clue what the hell happened on that table, but if I could throw sidearm again, I was going to keep my butt in the chair and listen to everything John Barnes had to say.
From that moment on, I opened myself up to the experience of true Myofascial Release. Although at times my body did strange things on the table, I avoided judgement and just went with the flow. After all, these movements were familiar to me; my body had once done them before.
I felt at home and at peace with the healing that was I was going through personally. I had finally found something that resonated with my impression of healing, physically, mentally and emotionally. There was this energy in the room that vibrated through me and I loved it. I felt strong.
I realized that my body knew how to heal itself from all the traumas I had suffered from through my life: I just had to listen.
This tissue, called fascia, is not linear in our body, so why should its release be linear?
Over the course of a week I learned that when we hang out at the barriers long enough, a state of UNWIND can happen. What does that mean? Well, for each individual it is very different. Take a moment and look at your body. What you are actually looking at is a 3 Dimensional web of connective tissue. This tissue, called fascia, is not linear in our body, so why should its release be linear?
When your therapist engages tissue that isn’t moving or functioning well, movement can start to happen. This movement is called unwinding. Movements can be large or small, sometimes so small as to be imperceptible from the outside. Unwinding can begin as a feeling within the body, or an emotion uncoiling. It could be local to the therapist’s hands, or it could be in your belly, or in your foot. Whatever the feeling, it is powerful, because it is healing.
Unwinding is our body’s ability to move through positions of trauma so it can fully release.
As your body goes through these positions of trauma, moments of pause, called still points, might happen. These still points are your way of dealing with the restrictions from the trauma you’ve been through. Physical symptoms may arise: sweating, nausea, shaking. Emotions may come up: crying, vocal sounds. Quite often memories surface. All this is a process of healing, and it is trapped within you until the barriers release.
Since that week in Chicago, 4 years ago, my perspective as a therapist has changed. I strive to create a safe environment where clients can heal in their own way – an environment that feels safe to let go. I no longer believe that deeper is better, but rather longer is key! I no longer have an agenda when I walk in to a treatment room; I treat each client to their individual needs of the day and moment in time, keeping in mind long term goals. The need to fill the space with conversation to make clients feel comfortable is no longer a priority; instead, I encourage quiet, so we both can listen to what your body is saying. My firm belief is everyone needs Myofascial Release.
Next time you go to see your Massage Therapist, consider taking the time to just listen, not to words filling the space, but to what your body is saying.
Give yourself permission to feel: feel what emotion, or memory, or dis-ease might be trapped beneath the surface.
Feel what areas of your body are talking to you, or not talking at all. Be curious about these feelings, but don’t be judgemental. Don’t feel the need to lay blame, but rather, give permission to yourself to heal.
I promise you, your experience will be that much greater, for both you and your therapist. The value you put on care, on living a healthy lifestyle and healing yourself, might just change. You have the power within you to do it, just let go and trust in yourself!
Tara Hagan-Fields is an RMT with Whole Therapy. Tara is a Women’s Health Specialist and Myofascial Release Therapist. She focuses on the body as a whole and teaches you to do the same. More about Tara here
This diet thing isn’t working. It’s making me miserable, in fact. Not in the overt, I’m-so-hungry-shoot-me-now way that it did last time. This time it’s a slow and subtle road to miserable. I’m munchy, not hungry, all the time. I don’t feel like my body is crazily burning fuel like before. It sucks.
In some ways I have more discipline than last time: when there are sweets and treats around, I seldom want any and can avoid them without having Trainer Jamie talk me off the ledge. In others, I feel like I have so much less: breakfasting with the kids when there are pancakes or sausages or even fruit salad on the table makes me feel achy and empty that I can’t partake.
Part of me processes this information and thinks, Get a grip. You can still hang out with the kids without eating sausages. But the other part of me wonders, Well what are you doing this for, anyway?
And that part of me, the questioning side, got my attention this weekend.
What am I doing this show for? I don’t know. It started out as a way to push us all forward. Ana needed a driving force. Bailey wanted a new journey. I needed to focus and train hard. But we are doing all of that. And I realize that the only part of this I’m dreading is the initial goal I set for myself of getting on stage.
Weird how that happens…
Getting on stage and doing a fitness show means that I’m focussed on the end result. I have tried to focus on the steps of the journey, but it’s legitimately stressing me out. Do I simply not have what it takes anymore?
This weekend I decided to eat “whatever I wanted” within the calorie count that I was given. I still aimed for the proper proteins, carbs, and fats, but I allowed myself to have yogurt, bread, popcorn with butter, and even a glass of wine. I made sure I stuck with the right calories, and had tons of veggies and lean proteins and water as well.
And do you know what happened? Nothing. The world didn’t end. I wasn’t bloated, or hungry, or stressed out, or hating myself. Amazing.
I had a great weekend with the kids and Husband Jamie, and I had no guilty feelings about show prep or anything. I realized that I really, really like raw oats with yogurt and almonds. I had forgotten! I was also able to sit down with the family and eat what they ate; a very liberating and relaxing experience.
Oats, yogurt and fruit. Amazing.
The tranquility in my mind was the best part, however. I had given myself permission to eat “whatever,” and it was as if a huge weight was lifted; I realized that I had been really stressed without even knowing it. Probably part of the reason my diet “wasn’t working”.
The strangest part was that giving myself permission to eat made the foods I shouldn’t eat less appealing, not more. I didn’t want a huge piece of cake. Or ten sandwiches. Or chocolate. I just wanted to eat what I wanted to eat, and paying attention to my body while eating what I wanted led to eating when hungry, stopping when satisfied, and greater satisfaction overall.
So what now? I’m not sure. Without a stage to step on, new goals should be hashed out. New plans laid. I don’t operate well without a formula, and I know I need to make sure I keep tracking my food so that I don’t go overboard.
But in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy my breakfast. It’s going to be a good day.
Jen Wright is an RMT and the owner of Whole Therapy. She is an avid gym-goer and loves to lift heavy stuff. She sees clients of all ages and stages, especially those who are engaged in bettering themselves. She believes that pain-free is possible. For more about Jen, click here.
Thai Massage is an ancient modality used by Buddhists to stay healthy during their travels. They believed that through the combination of Yoga and Massage, one could heal from almost anything. It is done in a relaxed setting, on the floor (with mats) and fully clothed. Each treatment is tailored to your needs, putting you through a variety of stretches combined with massage techniques.
The foundation of Thai Massage is that the whole body needs to be treated in order to aid in the healing process. Therefore, each treatment will not only focus on problem areas, the whole body will be addressed. Thai Massage is designed help with mobility, flexibility, stress reduction, boosting your immune system, and helping to align the body’s energy through direct work on the Sen (the energy lines of the body).
Melissa Beals, RMT performing Thai Massage with Jen Wright, RMT
Although treatments can be done in 60 minutes, I highly recommend a 90 minute treatment for the full benefit of this style of therapy. The extra 30 minutes means a smoother and less rushed pace leading to increased relaxation.
If you get cold easily, I recommend long loose pants (sweats or yoga pants) and a long sleeve t-shirt. Or if you tend to be warm, shorts and a tee, or a combination of either. Remember I am moving you through the poses and you are expending no energy to keep yourself warm.
If you have any questions about Thai Massage, please feel free to contact me at the clinic!
To read about Jen’s experience with Thai click here.
Melissa Beals is an RMT with Whole Therapy. Melissa works extensively with athletes of all levels with a goal in mind to increase their athletic performance through education and understanding of their bodies. See more about Melissa here.
