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Planned departure day 12 or 13 June 2016. Enquire to register your interest as we require confirmation of our pre-booked activities and accommodation by 5 April 2016 or Secure your place now - Bookings by internet accepted below - (maximum twelve persons)
Sabah province is known as "the land below the wind" and is a tropical paradise of wild and natural beauty containing some of the most diverse wildlife in some of the most outstanding rainforest on this planet. After flying into Kina Kotabalu the capital of Sabah our odyssey begins.
We will see the Orang Utan rehabilitation centre at Sepilok and visit Turtle Island early in the trip and during the following days visit the Kinabatangan river, Tabin wildlife reserve and the Danum valley. It is in these beautiful places where we encounter many primate species including the threatened Orang Utan (the proverbial wild man of Borneo) and another threatened primate, the Proboscis monkey. Other primates in these area's are Langgurs (leaf monkeys), Gibbons, the cheeky Macaque's and the nocturnal species slow Loris and Tarsiers.
Although we intend seeing as much wildlife as possible, we promise the tour will be fun, with the cultural 'plus' of meeting the friendly peoples of Borneo during our travels. We will have an opportunity to see rare animals such as Pigmy elephants, clouded leopard, snakes, Asian Rhinoceros and some weird and wonderful birds and insects. The lowland dipterocarp forests of the Danum Valley and the Tabin reserve area provide an unique opportunity to observe birds such as the Great Argus Pheasant, several species of hornbill, including the largest and most impressive, the Rhinoceros hornbill and a variety of lizards, insects and snakes.
At dusk we can search for the strange nocturnal frogmouths, one of the worlds least known birds and the large, more common Buffy fish owls. Amongst the wide range of forest mammals here, we will hope to see a good selection of primates, including Bornean Gibbon, and Orang-utan. Our evening trips by vehicle may provide glimpses of larger game, such as Elephant, Banteng and, perhaps, even Clouded Leopard or Flat-headed Cat! Larger forest mammals are never easy to see, but we are sure to see such smaller mammals as the nomadic Bearded Pig, Yellow Muntjac and Red Giant Flying Squirrel.
At the Tabin reserve is an interesting mud volcano which attracts wildlife because of its high salt content. It is like a giant salt lick. Borneo is a bird watchers paradise containing 42 indigenous families representing 220 species. Its other indigenous wildlife and plants also share this uniqueness.
Our previous trips to Sabah have been wonderful. We saw a huge number of animals, including six primate species in two days. The giant flying squirrel's were one of the highlights, and the wrecking of an accommodation boardwalk by elephants during one night certainly added to the adventure. We have managed to pack an awful lot of value into the price. If you are interested we hope you will join us.
The 2015 tour will be escorted by Brian Templeton company owner a knowledgable wildlife enthusiast and an avid photographer. Comment from previous clients visit to Borneo.
Enquire to register your interest by email.
|Indicative Rate pp
Borneo Adventure
Tour cost $3585 NZD pp based on (share twin) plus International airfares
Single supplement add $495 NZD
We can also arrange International airfares Auckland - Kuala-Lumpur return estimate $2300 NZD pp
|Day 1 - Auckland airport check-in 9.15pm for 00.40am 14 June departure
| 13 June - Meet at Malaysia airlines check-in ) Overnight flight to Kuala Lumpur
Meet at Auckland International terminal approx 9.15pm at the Malaysia Air departure desk. Your Elm wildlife tour escort can be identified in a black shirt with Elm logo. When all assembled, check-in and get to know one another. At 00:10am we join our flight to Sandakan via Kuala Lumpur. During this night flight we pass over Australia, Timor, various Indonesian islands,and finally Malaysia
|Day 2 - Auckland / Kuala Lumpur / Sandakan
| 14 June - overnight flight 9 hours stay overnight 14 June at Sepilok jungle resort
As our flight to Sandakan does not depart until late afternonn we spend 6 hours exploring Kualar Lumpur before departing to Sandakan arriving at approx 20:10pm local time. We are met at the airport and taken to a restaurant then to our overnight accommodation at the Sepilok jungle resort.
|Day 3 - Sandakan / Selingan (Turtle) Island
|15 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - overnight Turtle Island (NOTE; The Itinerary change from day 4 to day 3 for turtle island is due to booking demand)
Breakfast at 0815 hrs, pick up from SJR and transfer to CQ Jetty to board a motorised boat for the trip to Selingan Island. Upon arrival at the island, unpack and register. Check into your chalet ( basic facilities with attached bathroom ). Lunch included. Afternoon, you have free leisure time, to swim, snorkel or sun bathe on the sandy beach or explore. Monitor lizards live here. Evening, visit to the Exhibition Hall. After dinner, standby at the Cafeteria to wait for Park Ranger's signal before we proceed in small groups to view turtles laying eggs, then transferring of eggs to the hatchery and the releasing of hatchlings to the sea. We stay overnight at Selingan Island Chalet.
Note: Photographing of turtles requires a fee - no flash allowed. Snorkelling gear is available for hire
|Day 4 - Sandakan city tour / Sepilok Orangutans
| 16 June breakfast turtle island
After breakfast, depart island by 0700 hrs and return to mainland, continue with a sight seeing tour of Sandakan Nature City. Visit to the Sandakan Memorial Park, Buddhist Temple, St. Michael's Church, New central Market at Harbour Square and Agnes Keith Museum. Lunch at English Tea House before afternoon feeding at Sepilok Orang Utan Rehabilitation Centre. Afternoon 1730hrs, continue with a guided walk to Rainforest Discovery Centre to see flora and fauna, walk on a suspension bridge , the only canopy walk in Sandakan. Standing 28m above the forest floor is truly amazing. Dinner and night stay at Sepilok Jungle resort.
|Day 5 - Sepilok jungle resort / Kinabatangan river
| 17 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - Overnight Sepilok Jungle Resort)
After breakfast we vist the Sepilok Orangutan rehabilitation centre to pay our second visit, this time for the Orangutan morning feeding. After lunch, drive overland to Bilit on the Kinabatangan River (2hrs land journey) to arrive around 1500hrs, check into your accommodation and join our hosts for afternoon tea break with local bites. 1600hrs, depart for a boat cruise along the Kinabatangan River to see proboscis monkeys, birds & other wildlife. Overnight at Bilit Adventure Lodge. ( Standard Air-Cond Attached Bathroom)
Note: Night walk can be arranged, pay locally @ RM10p/px/hrs
Tree planting also can be arranged, pay locally @ RM10p/tree
|Day 6 - Kinabatangan River / Ox-Bow Lakes
| 18 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - overnight Bilit adventure lodge)
Today we begin with an early morning cruise, 6am, to view wildlife activity by boat along the river. Expect to see lots of primate species, maybe elephants or crocodiles and many species of birds. We return to BAL for breakfast then have free time until around 10.30am. Use small boats to travel near Danau Bilit (Ox-Bow Lakes) and walk through the jungle to view forest wildlife through the riverine forest. A simple picnic lunch is served at the lake and we return to BAL through the jungle . Free time until evening when we join the boats for another river wildlife spotting excursion. During our evening meal we can watch the small bats swooping past the lights to catch insects. Try your skill at photographing these guys.
|Day 7 - Kinabatangan River / Tabin Wildlife Reserve
19 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - overnight Tabin jungle lodge)
|Day 8 - Tabin Wildlife Reserve
|20 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - overnight Tabin jungle lodge)
Today, we trek through the lush green Bornean jungle known for its rich diversity of plants and animal species to visit Lipad's Waterfall. Take a dip in the natural pool and enjoy the refreshing cool water coming down from the waterfall. Alternatively explore the surrounding vegetation or just relax. At dusk, we go bird watching within the reserve. After dinner, night safari to observe nocturnal wildlife and birds. TABIN INFORMATION - Tabin Wildlife Reserve is an enormous dipterocarp rainforest landscape in the eastern part of Sabah, with a most diverse range of flora and fauna. Tabin was declared a wildlife reserve because of the large numbers of animal species inhabiting its forest, including several which are highly endangered. With a protected forest area of 120,500 hectares, the Tabin Wildlife Reserve plays an important role as a dedicated ground for the breeding of endangered wildlife and protected mammals in Sabah. Tabin has several intriguing mud volcanoes that provide mineral salts for the wild animals. The three largest land mammals of Sabah: Borneo Pygmy Elephant, Sumatran Rhino and Tembadau are found within Tabin.
|Day 9 - Tabin Wildlife Reserve / Lahad Datu
|Day 10 - Lahad Datu / Danum valley
|22 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - overnight Borneo rainforest lodge)
8:00am we go to the Borneo Rainforest Office in Lahad Datu for registration & briefing. At 9:30am Depart for the 2½ hour interesting and bumpy overland journey through the Danum Valley, 438 sq. km of undisturbed lowland rainforest where over 275 species of birds have been recorded. At approx 12pm we arrive at the Borneo rainforest Lodge. Our exotic "Welcome Drink" will be served while the warm and friendly resort staff brief us on the lodge facilities and exciting activities we will be joining during our stay. After lunch an introduction to the forest is provided through the "Nature Trail" and the "Canopy Walkway" to view unique wildlife. After dinner, a briefing and slide show are presented followed by a night drive in an open-air jeep in search of nocturnal animals (weather permitting).
|Day 11 Danum valley
|23 June : Breakfast Lunch & Dinner - overnight Borneo rainforest lodge)
At 6:00am we take an early morning jungle walk to the "Canopy Walkway" followed by breakfast and from 9.30am a range of guided jungle activities ; These include a trek to the Kadazandusun burial site - "Coffin Cliff" then further trekking to the "View Point" for a bird's eye view of the area. From here we descend to the "Jacuzzi Pool" for a refreshing dip. (Don't forget to bring along your swimming gear!) Back for lunch at the Lodge. Afternoon is free time or water tubing on the Danum River (optional activity). 7:00pm Dinner then at 8:30pm a Night Walk in search of nocturnal wildlife (weather permitting)
|Day 12 Danum valley / Lahad Datu / Kota Kinabalu
|24 June : Breakfast Lunch)
Following a 7:00 am Breakfast we begin a trek to the Hornbill Trail to view some of the really unusual hornbill species which exist in Borneo. After a noon Lunch we check out at 1:30pm and depart on our 2.5 hour return journey to Lahad Datu. Late afternoon flight to Kota Kinabalu. We stay overnight at a Hotel in Kota Kinabalu. It is central with helpful and friendly staff and a great central base for exploring the city. Maybe visit the night market for dinner. It only takes a glimpse of present-day Kota Kinabalu, or KK as the locals call it, to realise this is a fairly new city. The only colonial remnants of an almost century-long British control are the old post office building and the Atkinson Clock Tower. Indeed, KK received its city status only recently on 2 February 2000, but its history dates more than a century back to the days when the British North Borneo Chartered Company discovered it by accident, after a fire burnt down its former administration centre on Pulau Gaya island. KK was then a small fishing village, situated on a narrow strip of land with hills on one side and sea on the other. It was named Api-Api, loosely translated as "Fire-Fire," to denote the blaze that destroyed the former administration centre. It was later renamed "Jesselton," after Sir Charles Jessel, then Deputy Manager of the Chartered Company. You will enjoy exploring the city and its markets and finding those interesting cultural treasures
|Day 13 & 14 Kota Kinabalu / Kuala Lumpur / Auckland
|25 & 26 June : Breakfast - overnight Best Western Kota Kinabalu hotel
Free day until 1400 hrs to continue exploration of this interesting city - Search out those interesting gifts from Borneo and if you feel you still haven't seen enough wildlife you could join a tour to the Killas wetlands or maybe just go to the beach. A last chance to visit the busy market. Flight to Kuala Lumpur departs at 1710hrs.
|Day 15 Auckland
|27 June (included : flight meals)
Arrival Auckland International airport at 1355hrs NZ time
Enquire to register your interest by email.
Luggage policy 20kg maximum
Cabin baggage policy
Tabin wildlife area
Rainforest lodge
Kinabatangan river


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- Photos
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- Description
- Enquire with agent
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Inspections are available by appointment only. Contact the agent to request an inspection.
Retail for Lease in Lake Illawarra
Attention Hairdressers
- Building: 144m²
Next Steps:Enquire with agent
Previous tenancy - Hairdresser for 20 + years trading (retired)
Total area 144m2, Internal approx 95m2
Rent $295 per week + outgoings
Zoned B1 - Neighbourhood Centre
(Objective B1 zoning: to provide a range of small sale retail, business and community uses that serve the needs of the people who live or work in the surrounding neighbourhood. ie, uses such as business premises, child care centres, medical centre, neighbourhood shops, restaurant or cafe, take away foods and drink premises, hairdresser etc (Subject to council approval)
Centrally located to transport and Warilla Grove shopping centre
Next Steps:Enquire with agent
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Being "Pretty": Media's Image of the Perfect Woman
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We've all done it: based our worth on what other people think of us. Both guys and girls have standards, but for girls, those standards are projected heavily and are particularly harsh and unrealistic. Girls feel pressured to look the part of society's ideal image which can lead to feeling negative about...
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5days Sumba Pasola Ritual War
State : SUMBA ISLAND
Day 0l : WAIKABUBAK WEST SUMBA (BLD)
Pick up from your hotel in Bali then transfer to the airport for your departure to Tambolaka of Western part of Sumba. On arrival your arrival, meeting service then transfer to your hotel for lunch. After lunch visiting Tarung and Waitabar village to see traditional Sumbanese houses, grave stones and collections of buffalo horn. Transfer back to the hotel for dinner and overnight stay.
Day 02 : WAIKABUBAK – WANOKAKA (BLD)
After breakfast explore the southern part of Waikabubak with beautiful sceneries and traditional village, proceeding to Marosi beach. Back to hotel for lunch. Proceed to Wanokaka, stay overnight at the local house.
Day 03 : WANOKAKA (Pasola Ritual War) BLD
All your day are with the local people to see their preparation ceremony for the main ritual Pasola War, in the following day. All meals provided. Overnight at the local house.
Day 04 : WANOKAKA (Pasola Ritual War) - WAINGAPU (BLD)
Very early in the morning, wake up call - for your preparation to see the ritual war. Be aware that you have to follow the update notice from your guide about the step of the ceremonies and have to follow all the activities that allows for visitor to see. After seeing Pasola in real, we are proceed driving to the eastern part of the island to reach Waingapu. All meals provided. Accommodation at Merlin Hotel Waingapu.
Day 05 : WAINGAPU - DENPASAR (B)
After breakfast, transfer to the airport for your flight departure to Denpasar - Bali or next destination.


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Property Ref: 55683
All times & distances are approximate as a guide only.
Stansted airport 24 miles - 45 mins
London Heathrow Airport 40 miles - 55 mins
Luton Airport 13 miles - 25/30 mins
Welwyn Garden City 6 miles
Hertford 7.5 miles
St Albans 15 miles
M25 circa 15 miles
A1(M) Junction 6 - 3 miles
Kings Cross 30/35 minutes by rail
Private schools in the area include: Sherrardswood, St Francis' College, Princess Helena, St Edmunds College, St Albans High School for Girls, St Albans Abbey School, Heath Mount at Watton at Stone, Duncombe at Bengeo, St. Christophers in Letchworth, Haileybury and Queenswood.
There is an excellent choice of golf courses in the area including close by Stevenage, Brocket Hall with the Auberge du Lac restaurant, Knebworth & Aldwickbury Park.
Open porch and composite front door to:
With oak flooring, exposed timbers and brickwork, inset ceiling spotlights, radaitor and doors to:
Fitted with a white suite comprising low level WC and pedestal wash handbasin with chrome mixer tap and mosaic tiled splashback. There is a chrome ladder style heated towel rail, oak flooring, extractor fan, full height window to front and exposed timbers.
A good size welcoming approach to the accommodation with exposed timbers and brickwork, oak flooring, radiator, inset ceiling spotlights and doors to:
Fitted with a range of cream Shaker style wall and base units with granite working surfaces above, inset stainless steel 1½ bowl sink with chrome mixer tap, space for range style cooker with concealed extractor fan above together with further space for dishwasher and fridge freezer. There is a separate island with breakfast bar seating below and granite working surface above, oak flooring, inset ceiling spotlights, radiator, exposed timbers, 3 windows to the front and a window to the side.
A lovely space with high ceiling, exposed timbers, radiator, oak flooring, inset ceiling spotlights, TV aerial socket, 2 windows to side and built in oak book shelves.
Again fitted with cream shaker style base units with roll top working surface above, double ceramic sink with brushed chrome retractable mixer tap and tiled splashback. There are ceramic floor tiles, radiator, walk in cloaks cupboard, additional built in storage cupboard, window and door to rear and plumbing for washing machine and tumble dryer.
Again with exposed timbers and brickwork, oak flooring, inset ceiling spotlights, radiator, 2 windows to the front and step up to:
A good size room with exposed ceiling timbers and brickwork together with a large inglenook fireplace with cast iron log burner, stone hearth, inset lighting and oak bressemer. There are 2 radiators, TV aerial socket, 2 windows to the front and french doors to:
Of UPVC and brick construction with tiled ceramic floor, power and lighting, 2 electric radiators, door to rear and french doors to patio.
With oak balustrade, radiator and doors to:
A characterful room with sloping ceiling and exposed timbers, radiator, TV aerial socket and window to front.
Fitted with a white edwardian style suite comprising bath with bi folding glass shower screen, chrome mixer tap and additional wall mounted shower, pedestal wash handbasin with chrome mixer tap and low level WC. There are fully tiled walls, mosaic ceramic floor tiles, chrome ladder style heated towel rail, exposed ceiling timbers, airing cupboard housing hot water cylinder and Velux window to rear.
A sizeable room with sloping ceiling, 2 radiators, TV aerial socket, exposed ceiling timbers, 2 dormer windows to the front, hatch to loft and door to:
Steps down to the bathroom with vaulted ceiling, fitted with a white suite comprising bath with chrome mixer tap and additional wall mounted shower above, low level WC and wash handbasin inset into timber and wicker vanity cupboard with chrome mixer tap. There is a chrome ladder style heated towel rail, mosaic tiled walls and flooring and eaves storage cupboard.
Another double room with sloping ceiling, radiator, windows to side and front, exposed timbers and TV aerial socket.
A low maintenance garden mainly positioned to the front of the property and laid to lawn. There is a split level timber decked patio immediately to the front of the house with attractive timber balustrade, outside tap and ornamental lighting. To the rear there is a paved area together with a timber garden shed. The garden is bound by trellis topped walls.
Recently built with electric up and over door, light and power. There is an attractive cobblestone driveway for several vehicles, approached via wrought iron gate.
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tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957752113694232972017-09-03T06:56:15.212-05:00Connected TissueThree dimensional thoughts in two dimensions -- from a massage therapist / educator / label-averse humanRebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-59557742556883238552017-06-07T13:08:00.001-05:002017-06-07T13:08:06.283-05:00Six Impossible ThingsI get quotes stuck in my head the way some people get songs stuck in theirs. This morning it was from Lewis Carroll:

"Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

As I got ready for my day, it occurred to me that I should adopt this practice somehow. After all, weren't there moments when I found that I was already living things I used to believe were impossible? And don't we live in a world where, just at the moment, we are daily challenged with at least the ridiculous, if not the impossible?

So, on Wednesday, June 7, here are six impossible things I believed before breakfast:

Pouring hot water over bitter, ground-up beans creates a beverage capable of altering a morning.

The same sun shining in my eyes at 6am just drew a bright, warm line all around this entire planet since 6am yesterday morning.

There are people chatting and laughing outside my building right now who, in the world of 50 years ago, would be dead. (There is a dialysis center next to my building.)

The entity I know only as a collection of medications and diagnoses will transform into a complex and wonderful human being the moment she arrives for her 9am appointment.

My life, and what I choose to do with it, makes a difference in a wider world than I can comprehend.

So does yours.

Believing takes effort and practice. This was not an easy list to create (especially before #1 happened.) I am looking forward to the six impossible things that will be waiting for me tomorrow.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-16993705288236504342017-05-18T14:37:00.002-05:002017-05-18T14:58:22.134-05:00Under My HandsTowards the end of her massage, I laid my hands on both of her cheeks, intending to release some of the tension in her jaw. I saw her face tighten, then relax as she started to cry. Her tears traveled down her cheeks and under my hands. I asked her if she wanted a tissue. In response, she covered my hands with her hands.

"No," she said. "Just keep holding on to me."

So I did. I held her head between my hands while tears fell down her face, under my hands and to the table. I took long, slow, deep breaths and watched as she slowly started to do the same. I felt the tension in her jaw release as she smiled a little bit.

"I could just feel my mother here," she said. "She wants to tell you 'Thank you for fixing my daughter.'"

What I wanted to say, but didn't: How could I possibly fix something so complete, so whole and so grandly human?

After she left, I took a moment to appreciate the gift she gave me -- that she would let me touch her tears with my bare hands. May we always be worthy of such trust.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-31247517016062386232017-05-08T18:57:00.000-05:002017-05-08T18:57:02.183-05:00This Little Trigger Went to Market
I was talking to a friend about a teenager we both know. This child recently got taken out of a sport due to a knee injury. My friend expressed some concern about the teen finding some activity to do in place of the sport. This friend expressed concern over the possibility that this child could become a fat teenager. She called that a "bad thing."

So, here's the thing -- I was a fat teenager. And in many ways it was a bad thing. It was a bad thing because of the way other teenagers (and some adults) treated me. Because somehow it was okay to be teased at school and to feel shamed at home. It was a bad thing because of the nickname that I got that stuck with me until I moved away from my home town, the nickname that even now I won't tell anyone because it carries such shame-filled memories. My point is, it was a bad thing because of the way the outside world made me feel unacceptable because my body was somehow unacceptable.

Fortunately, I have a loving and supportive family. Even through missteps and unintentionally hurtful things, I knew that I had worth and value as a human being. Not everyone is that lucky.

This, I am discovering, is a big part of my purpose as a massage therapist. My practice needs to be a place where every human can feel safe and valued in their body, just as it is right now. My very first client in Louisville reinforced that for me. Here was a woman who spends her life working hard, caring and providing. The hard work took a toll on her body and she was finally making a commitment to take some care of herself. After her first session with me, she sat in a chair and wept over the "mess" she had made of her body, and how "bad" she allowed it to get. I handed her a tissue and told her two true things:
1) Every human body that arrives in my office is a successful human body. Period.
2) In my space, no one apologizes for their body. Ever.
She looked stunned for a moment, nodded a little, and scheduled her next appointment.

So, when my friend talked about how bad it would be to become a fat teenager, my overprotective amygdala went a little nuts. I perceived her view as a threat. It is a threat. It threatens the world I am trying to create in and push out from my massage office, where a person can feel safe existing in their body. On a more personal level, it threatens my own sense of worth, which may seem solid but is in fact a tray full of water on the deck of a ship -- it could spill at any time.

The wonderful writer behind the blog Your Fat Friend does a much better job of talking about our cultural hullabaloo surrounding fatness and body image. You should go and read her blog. Here, I will just point out that I can think of things so much worse than being the fat teenager, and I am still struggling with a world that still wants us to live somewhere besides in our bodies. It is the struggle that clarifies my purpose.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-88937130076765537062017-04-03T14:30:00.001-05:002017-04-03T14:30:06.820-05:00Things I Appreciate #2I am seriously tempted to make this thing I appreciate something like "patience" or "flexible production schedules," given how long it has been since my last post. But, I have spent the past two days cleaning my new apartment and trying to tell an entire town that I have arrived. I'm also trying to process the last week at my Chicago practice. I'm a little too tired to attempt humor.

So today, I appreciate limits.

On the last day of my Chicago practice, I had a day seeing people who had been regular clients for most of my time there. I spent quiet time meditating in the days before that Friday, reflecting with gratitude on what their trust had meant to me. I meant to approach the day with calm, professional dignity. But professional dignity has its limits, especially when people share small glimpses of how you have affected their lives, and I found myself ugly crying multiple times that day. In front of clients. They were all loving and grateful and generous with their hugs.

On my way to Louisville the next day, I got a message from another client, hoping I had the time to squeeze in just one more appointment. (I saw this client about a week and half ago. We mentioned that it was probably the last time, and said a calm and dignified goodbye.) For just a moment I thought I could squeeze in a last appointment when I'm back in Chicago to clear out the rest of my apartment. Just thinking about it, though, made me want to curl up on the floor for a while. Somewhat surprisingly, even my willingness to help has limits. Those limits seem to share a border with my health, which I am calling progress.

These things that are limited -- time, health, stoicism -- really serve to highlight the things we have which are limitless. Curiosity, ability to learn, and of course, love. Scarcity is a myth. I have learned this (again) by finding my limits.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-43167774852854642492017-02-16T13:32:00.001-06:002017-02-16T13:32:56.072-06:00Things I Appreciate #1I am quite possibly the most organized flake you will ever meet. I have a wall calendar marked with the number of days left until my target move date. Just beyond it, my table is covered with piles of papers, cords to dead electronics, boxes and packing tape. It's mathematical chaos.

Last night I looked at that calendar and realized the very small number of days left before I relocate my life and my practice to my home state of Kentucky. It occurred to me that I could write down all the things that come at me in waves of gratitude as I think about leaving. This, then, is the beginning of a semi-regular series of Things I Appreciate.

The first thing I appreciate is: endings.

A little over three years ago, I stepped into an unexpected ending in my personal life. I distinctly remember the feeling of holding on with just my fingernails, digging in to keep from sliding into I-don't-know-what. Out of that stubbornness came this completely irrational plan to quit my spa job and start my own private practice.

When important things end, that feeling of "nothing left to lose" can open up a whole wealth of options. It was fear that kept me from starting my own practice for so long, but with nothing left to lose, fear made no sense, so I went for it. It took time to build, and there have definitely been some hiccups, but overall I have been happier in my work these past three years than I ever thought possible. And it all started with an ending.

So today I am thinking of endings, of the enduring permanence of endings. All things end, and in their place something new emerges. This is a lesson I started to learn when I started my practice, and I am learning it forever, constantly, in a new way with every brand new ending.

Forward.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-44994983031037301402017-01-05T17:43:00.002-06:002017-01-05T19:03:16.382-06:00Where and WhyAUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a blog about my work. While many of the stories I tell here are personal, normally I try very hard to keep away from topics like my (or anyone else's) politics. These are not normal times.

******************************************************

My best friend from grade school was sexually molested by a family member. She told me about this years later, when we were both near-adults, many years after the abuse ended, and many years after the family member had died. Sometime not long after this, she went to massage school and started work as a massage therapist. In school, she did internships at various community organizations. She spent the most time at a shelter for victims of domestic violence. I have a vivid memory of her telling me about this work experience. She talked at length about how she was really teaching women about safe touch and how it feels when their boundaries are honored.

This story of hers, coupled with everything I knew about her own touch history, was the seed that grew into my desire to go to massage school, and ultimately led me to where I am today. This very day. January 5, 2017. And to where I will be on January 20, Inauguration Day.

I will be at work.

See, lately, so many people I work with are feeling directly threatened and unsafe because of who they are. In my office, the one goal I have for every person is that they feel safe and they start to feel like their body is a place they can inhabit with ease and confidence. I have little power over what kind of threats or danger can appear to people once they leave my space. But with me, for that little time at least, I strive to create a place that is safe and free of judgment. I feel like those sorts of places are shrinking faster than the polar ice caps, so on January 20, I will be at work. Trying to hold that space.

For months now, I have been seeing some clients come through, only obliquely referring to the election and its results as they talk about how this ache or that pain or this overall anxious feeling just will not go away. In my outside job, working at a cancer treatment center, I have watched the unkind edges of how the political climate seeps even into the minds of people who are literally trying to save their own lives. I have been given the gift of heir trust, which I tried to honor by making a place for them to feel just a little bit like a connected and whole body.

And I have gone home and cried because I know that what I do won't change the very real possibility that many of them will lose the ability to pay for their care, or that some of my clients in my regular practice still walk out into a world that has decided their love, or their religion, or their skin is now a problem. That they are a problem, and not so much a fellow human being.

And then I remember my best friend from grade school. How she took her trauma and turned it into action. Some kind of action. I can sit here and drink tea from my Jane Austen mug and wallow in my futility.

Or I can go to work. I can try, for just an hour at a time, for one person at a time, to create a space where we are again compassionate humans who listen to each other and honor each other. I don't know what else to do, so I'll be doing that.

I invite you to come and human with me for just a little while.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-90712298352359248262016-12-23T09:02:00.002-06:002016-12-23T09:03:13.647-06:00MagicI have written in this space before about the dangers of believing in our own mythology. Clients, friends and acquaintances say lovely things to massage therapists sometimes. They call us "healers," or they talk about our "magic hands." This has been happening to me a lot lately. Not because I have somehow changed and grown, but because I am in the process of relocating my practice to a new city, and the ends of things often make us say what we are feeling.

But here's the thing: I am still not magic. And I am not a healer. If my clients feel better after seeing me than they did before, it is because they paid attention to their bodies and because I applied hard-earned knowledge and skill to their session. I am a facilitator.

If what I do seems so unusual that it defies the natural order, I see that as more of a problem with our version of the natural order. I worked hard and studied long to get my practical knowledge, and whatever intangible thing I have that makes that special probably comes from the best compliment I ever received from a client: "You're different because you listen."

There's your magic. There's the thing that seems so outside the natural order that it can't be explained. Simple listening. I'm not perfect at this, but I have had many years of practice. And the fact that so many people call this "magic" convinces me that we all need more practice.

When was the last time you sat down with someone with an open heart and mind and just let them tell you things? Things that maybe you don't agree with, or things that are hard for you to take in. When was the last time you let this happen, and just tried to radiate acceptance of your shared humanity? Because, difficult as it is, I can absolutely with all my being reject a person's opinions or political leanings, but I will not reject our shared humanity.

Some days I'm better at this than others. Some days it feels nearly impossible. But it is not now and never will be "magic." It is simply acknowledging our drive for human connection. We all have it. It is the natural order of things.Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-76075579912392846882016-11-29T16:52:00.002-06:002016-12-05T12:11:08.982-06:00Scoliosis OrcaMy client has a chronic genetic condition*. As a child, it caused so much discomfort that she spent weeks confined to her bed at home. During this time, she developed a habit of spending hours searching the internet for interesting facts. She read voraciously about many different subjects, and deeply about very few.

She was the kind of client who needed to chatter for the first third of the massage before she could settle into her body. How could I blame her? Her body had never been a comfortable place to be. She felt safer in her mind. Those 20 or so minutes generally consisted of a wide-ranging array of different facts and stories ranging from the bathing habits of Ancient Romans to genetically modified, drug-testing mice.

One day I will always remember, though, because she spent her entire "talk time" telling me one story. Apparently somewhere in the wild is an orca who has scoliosis. Scientists have been following this whale (and his related pod) for some time. Left alone, this orca would die. His spinal curvature keeps him from hunting effectively, and he does not swim as fast as the other whales. Scientists noted, however, that other whales in the pod were actually helping this orca. They would bring food to him, and if he fell behind, they would sometimes even wait for him to catch up to them. My client had spent much of the night (she didn't sleep well) reading about this whale and watching video footage of the whole pod in action. At first, it was the orca's mother doing all this tending, but then even after his mother died, the rest of the pod continued to take care of him.

My client went over and over this story, each time remembering little details from some video or website or other. Eventually, as in every session, she relaxed into her body and gradually dropped off talking. I had a nagging little sense that something was being opened to me, but I put it aside to focus on her massage.

After she left, I started thinking about the story she told me, and how much it captured her attention. I remembered something a co-worker once said to me: "We use metaphors because they tell us something real." Of course. The story of the orca was a metaphor. Here was this creature with a chronic genetic condition. Left to his own devices, he would have been abandoned and left behind, possibly even left to die. Instead, his fellow creatures stepped in and took care of this creature's needs, thereby keeping him connected to the whole of his world.

My client maybe thought she was telling me the story of an orca, but really, she was telling me the story of her life. Of all the people who stepped in to help and support her when she could have easily been left behind. She told me the story of the orca gave her hope. I suspect it highlighted the hope she already received from those closest to her -- her own pod who kept her connected to the whole of her world.

*-- names and identifying details have been changedRebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-23276048024426013842016-11-25T11:55:00.004-06:002016-11-25T11:55:49.933-06:00Five Words

I know a couple, quite elderly. They have been married for more years than many people get to be alive on this earth. The gentleman has been, until quite recently, very robust for his age. Although he required a small bit of assistance to get into and out of his favorite recliner, he was otherwise very independent. His wife was much more frail. She slept much of the day and rarely ever spoke. When she was awake, she frequently looked at him and smiled, her bright blue eyes twinkling. He would take her hand and raise it to his lips for a kiss, ever the courtly gentleman. He called her "Mama."

Recently, though, he succumbed to various respiratory illnesses, and even though his body was vigorous, it was nearly a century old, so each illness landed him in the hospital for a longer period of time. Each time he came back home, he was a little bit more weak. More devices appeared around him, and the caregivers seemed closer to him for longer periods of time.

Through it all, his wife, still quite frail, looked on him with love, affection, and a growing concern. I knew them only like this, in their increasingly frail old age and decline. I learned a few things about them very quickly, though. Right away I learned that they loved each other with the kind of deep, realistic, daily-work love that is never depicted in poetry. I learned that when they looked at each other, they each saw past their fading physical shells and into a long, shared life of which they were justifiably proud. And I learned that Mama, at least, had gotten everything down to essentials.

Mama rarely spoke. And when she did, she said only "Thank you" or "I love you." In all the time I was near her, these were the only things I heard her say. I have known for a long time that language is only one of many ways we have to communicate, but her limited vocabulary still struck me, especially since her husband was still so engaged in language and conversation.

One day, however, watching her with her long-term caregiver, it dawned on me that she had things exactly right. Her body was frail, she lacked energy to do more than what was absolutely essential. She had distilled her actions down, and I finally realized, she had also distilled down her language.

As I thought about it, if I could only say five words out loud for the rest of my life, could I think of a better collection than "Thank you" and "I love you"? What other five words would serve to express my connection to the people around me? How much more simple could it be? Every time I visited them, and I saw her saying only "thank you" and "I love you," I realized how much she had chosen to convey. With her fading strength, knowing every word was an effort, she chose to say the words that kept her connected to all the people around her, and that told them how much she cared for each of them. Could there be another five words more important?
Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-31944419864765929932016-07-31T19:07:00.001-05:002016-07-31T19:09:04.070-05:00MaintenanceOne of the enduring joys of this job is learning from the person who is going through treatment.

 Liesl's* several children all lived out of town, but one of them always drove down for her treatments. All twelve of them. For her birthday, they decided to get together and buy her a massage to go with each of the last four chemo treatments. This is how I had the pleasure of meeting her.

For her last four chemo cycles, Liesl (and whichever son or daughter) arrived at my office the day after her infusion. Each time, Liesl walked herself slowly back to my office with me. She gave me the same list of side effects, each time just a little bit worse than the last. She would lay in a supported, semi-reclined position while I gently held her feet, hands and head. After the massage, she would take my arm for support, walk with me to the waiting room, then give me a hug before she left.

At her last appointment, Liesl asked me to do her a favor. She knew I was connected to some of the staff at her treatment center so she told me, "Please tell them. Tell them they need to touch people." She went on to assure me that she felt she had received good care from caring people, but that it disturbed her that they never seemed to take a minute to just touch their patients. To lay a hand on their arm, or give them a gentle hug. It made her feel cold and somewhat neglected, she said. Cancer treatment was scary enough, she said, without feeling isolated like that. "I have my family there," she said, "but what about the people who don't?"

What she said to me wasn't anything different than what I say to people pretty much all the time, but for some reason it hooked deep into my heart. I wondered, when do I touch people purely for comfort, compassion and to show that they are special to me? Outside of work, when do I do this? And when am I comfortable receiving this kind of touch from my friends and family? This happens a shockingly small amount, if I'm being honest.

I don't have any answers today. I don't have any wisdom. There is just the knowledge, and gratitude to the woman who brought it out for me to look at. There are so many complicated, important things facing the world in general right now -- issues that divide us and might even harm us. From one perspective maybe it seems frivolous for me to spend so much time and brain space worrying about how much we touch each other, and trying to change that.

But then, I ask myself (and you), if you can touch someone with gentleness and true compassion, doesn't that make it harder to objectify, deny or hate them? So, in addition to the staff at the treatment center, I am sending you Liesl's message: with compassion and an open heart, just touch people.

*--name and identifying details have been changedRebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-91044500811794614002016-06-20T10:03:00.001-05:002016-06-20T10:07:49.812-05:00How Do I Even Feel About This?That was the text message I sent to a friend. She does the same kind of work as I do, and I shared my story with her right after it happened, when I was still not sure what to think.

(Warning: there's a semi-graphic description of some nasty treatment side effects following. There is also some cussing. Stop right here if you're easily disturbed by that kind of thing.)

Let me tell you about it. My client has an advanced stage of cancer-*. She has tried many treatments, which have exhausted her body, mind and bank account. She is undergoing a treatment now that causes extremely painful lesions on her skin. The ones I can see look like giant spider bites, but she tells me about others which are open and sometimes weeping. She takes multiple medications to manage her pain. She tells me that as a result she is "much more mellow than usual."

She describes herself as a "hard-driving" person, and talks about raising the money to go abroad for alternative treatment. She says to me: "If I can't afford to go abroad, I don't know what I'll do. Just die, I guess."

That day she wanted me to take a picture of a particularly large lesion on her chest so she could send it to her doctor. She sat on the edge of the table and gingerly pulled away the gauze pad which was covering the wound. I took a couple of quick pictures, then noticed the wound was weeping a bit, so she quickly covered it up and buttoned her shirt.

She wanted to see the pictures before she left. I hand her the smart phone with the last picture on display. She looked at it then started laughing maniacally. "Wow," she said through continuing laughter, "that's really horrible."

And it is. Really horrible. It is also really horrible that despite marijuana, morphine, and massage therapy, she is in constant pain that sometimes takes her breath away. And it's horrible that she may not have access to the treatment she wants because it has been so expensive to keep her alive this long. There is so much horrible here that it is tempting to just drown in it.

But she laughed. She chose to laugh. Not the kind of laugh that makes you wonder if someone is really "all there," but a deeply knowing laugh. The kind of laugh that knows and embraces all that is painful and dark about her human experience. It was a "Fuck you, I will go on" laugh.

And, I will admit it, I found it disturbing at first. Then I didn't know what to think, so I texted my friend and colleague. Her response was perfect: "I love this while my heart breaks."

I love this. My heart breaks. This is the circle I step into, as soon as I leave work for the day. Fortunately, love and breath and understanding friends win out, and I am ready every day to come back.

*- name and identifying details have been changed

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-6834915726041654382016-04-25T13:47:00.002-05:002016-04-26T08:54:10.477-05:00Revolutionary Radicalness! Radial Revolutionaries!I just got back from the Society for Oncology Massage's Healing Summit in Minnesota. It was three action-packed days of learning and connecting. I am slowly sorting through all the information and ideas. I will be doing that for some time now.

The first thing to come forward in my mind, asking for my attention, is our inclination to put what we do in the superlative. I attended a session describing new approaches to a task we all do as "radical." While I'm pretty sure the (very good) presenters were a bit tongue-in-cheek when they chose that word, it did make me realize how much we do the same thing without thinking about it. We talk about our "amazing" results, our "unbelievable" experiences, and our "top-notch" skills.

Maybe these words are appropriate. I have often felt that language fails me when I try to describe a session. And I love this work. (Love! The superlative emotion!) I am committed to go to work every day, through budding fatigue and surrounding life stresses, because the work engages and energizes my mind and heart. But does that mean I need to shout about it?

Why not choose, instead, quiet conversations with colleagues, storytelling (in person or maybe, I don't know, on a blog), and a moment every day to sit alone in gratitude for the day? Maybe it's the introvert in me, but this feels better. We can be (and often are) excellent. We can serve our clients and our colleagues without shouting to each other about our total awesomeness.

At the end of a session with one of my frail clients today, my feedback was a warm smile, lingering handshake, and a direct gaze into my eyes with a faintly whispered, "Thank you." One barely audible moment that showed me that my client felt better after the session than he did before. Why should I ask for or expect anything more? Truthfully, why should I ask for or expect anything, if I am truly trying to serve my clients and not my ego?

Now that I am home, I am resolved to speak more gently about my work. I can express the depth of my commitment to this profession without shouting about it. I am resolved to remember this quote from Susan Cain's book Quiet:

"There's zero correlation between being the best talker and having the best ideas."

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-19069027777253325942016-03-21T14:22:00.002-05:002016-03-21T14:22:45.159-05:00No Ego No CryI arrived early to find my client seated in his living room.* "Come in, Rebecca," he said, "Sit down. I need to talk to you." The way he said it made it clear that he was not about to compliment my amazing promptness.

He asked me what it was that I was doing the last few times I had been there. What kind of work did I call that? It was an honest, direct question. I gave him my stock line about Western, anatomy-based massage adapted to reduce any additional strain on his body. He nodded to show me that he understood. Then he described his last massage therapist. Her strong hands. How the work was so much more beneficial for him. He wondered if this was something I could do, and if not, would it be worth it to either of us for me to keep coming back again?

I swallowed my tirade about gentle work and my knowledge of the physiological changes happening in his body. I swallowed the urge to tell him I knew how to work with his body better than his previous therapist, that he was somehow wrong for getting more benefit from her work than mine.

Instead, I remembered the mantra I used when I was learning in Thailand: no ego, no cry.

I asked him more about his previous treatments, if he could describe what he found particularly beneficial. I listened to him talk about the skill of his previous therapist. I nodded to show I understood. The massage I gave him that day was more muscle-adhesion focused, still within the boundaries of my training and comfort level.

He invited me to talk to him about what I was doing so he could understand. I inhaled and exhaled -- reminded myself that this was not a person trying to trip me up in a mistake so he had an excuse to fire me. This was a person who truly sought to understand my approach to his body. I explained what I could, answered his questions as clearly as I could. I did all of this until he began to breath more deeply, and settled into his massage.

That day I discovered my next Why. Why I am not done with massage. My ego was my biggest struggle in Thailand, and that struggle came home with me. In fact, it was started here. My next challenge to to find out how to end it. Here.

* -- identifying details have been changed

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-9272000608217671392016-03-09T16:14:00.002-06:002016-04-26T08:55:27.613-05:00Today is WhyYou may recall that Beatrice helped me realize that I need to stick with this profession. Since then, I have been struggling with the question of why.

Today is why.

I had 3 clients today, all with a cancer diagnosis in the same organ of their bodies. You could guess the progression and prognosis of their treatment by the hair on their heads -- from bald, to pixie fringe, to long, heavy ponytail. You could tell a little about their comfort with their bodies by their unguarded eyes -- and be careful not to assume the eyes match the disease progression. The most raw fear peeks out from under that long, heavy ponytail.

The expectations we set together have been simple, realistic, and sometimes elusive. "Give me that glowy feeling I always get from massage." "Help me relax so I can sleep tonight." "Just make my legs feel more comfortable." My past tendency was to say 'Yes. I will do that," then spend the better part of the session worrying about whether or not I was doing that.

Today I tried something new. Instead of "I will do that," I started with "I will hold that intention." Instead of worrying about keeping my promise, I found myself present in breathing and being with the person in the room. Out of that beginning, I found myself more able to feel and interpret what was under my hands, and feeling much more energetic at the end of the day.

I needed to learn and feel that again. This is why I need to stick with this profession. Or at least one of many "why"s. It is my intention to keep open and aware for the next ones.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-24752748071408915742016-02-26T11:39:00.001-06:002016-02-26T11:40:59.737-06:00Beatrice, Patron Saint of Sticking with Your ProfessionWe travel to find answers to questions we didn't know we had.

My first day at our teacher's house in Thailand, I realized that my question was whether I still wanted to be a massage therapist at all. I spent the day confused and frustrated, unable to make sense out of the work people were doing, and nursing my bruised ego. (For the first time in, well, ever, a teacher told me I was "terrible" at something.) I spent the day thinking maybe it was time to say goodbye to massage. Although the thought broke my heart, it seemed necessary. I arrived in Thailand almost hollow inside. I felt like if you tapped my chest it would resonate and echo like a bell. Maybe that meant I was done.

A few days later, back at our teacher's house, I decided I should at least try a little bit. Try again to do this Thai massage thing that continued to baffle me. A friend suggested I work with Beatrice. Beatrice had never done any kind of bodywork. She had been learning at our teacher's house for a couple of weeks. She was often the first one there in the morning, and she practiced when she could and watched when she couldn't. Plus, she had a very kind face. I made it a point to start a conversation with her as soon as we arrived. After morning chanting, she asked if I wanted to practice together and I said yes.

We moved off to a corner of the room, leaving the center for our teacher and some of the more confident students. Beatrice worked on my legs and feet, taking time to position herself and occasionally sighing or apologizing when something didn't quite work. After a bit she sat down next to me, smiled and said, "I think that's all I know how to do." We traded places.

I worked on Beatrice's arms and shoulders. Before I started, I acknowledged to myself that I knew nothing, and said a little prayer that I would do no harm. I forgot the names of muscles and bones. All those origins, insertions and actions I worked so hard to learn and teach -- I let them go. I watched Beatrice's face while I worked and let my gut be my clock. I have no idea what I was doing -- probably something very similar to my "usual" type of work, just adapted for using legs, knees and feet and for working on the floor. After a bit, I laid my hand on Beatrice's shoulder and said, "I think that's all I know how to do."

Beatrice sat up, looked at me with her kind eyes and said, "I don't know what you did -- but I felt something, I --" and as words failed both of us, she wrapped her arms around me and we embraced. In that moment, I expanded and the empty, hollow places inside began to fill.

I guess I'm not done yet.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-23088408918592159742016-01-29T07:24:00.000-06:002016-01-29T07:24:07.477-06:00HelicoptersSawatdee ka from Thailand.

I've been at "school" for two days now, but I think I have already learned enough for a new lifetime. I thought I came here prepared with my beginner's mind, but I see now that I came with my ego.

Our teacher has a unique approach that involves nothing like our familiar version of lessons. There are a few key phrases that he keeps returning to while he talks. One of these is talking about "helicopters," meaning (I think) we tend to focus on the mess of anxiety and anticipation that exists outside ourselves and this present moment. He asked us many times today: "Helicopters. Helping or not helping?"

Not helping.

I have never done Thai massage before, so my initial plan was to observe and receive this first week. Just be a sponge and store everything I could in my head. I had the opportunity today to try out a few basic things. I guess I thought my knowledge and experience doing Western massage would help me to get the hang of it fairly easily.

Helicopters. Not helping.

Our teacher came over to my mat. He said, "Terrible. Terrible. What are you doing?" He proceeded to show me where I could feel a block in my practice partner's body. He tried to tell me what to do, but I just wasn't getting it. What I was getting was frustrated. Ego. "Just show me," I said. He proceeded to move my body into the correct position to work on my partner's body. I managed to get a little of the feel of that one movement, but I had no idea what to do next. So, he took over. And talked a lot about how I needed to stop thinking and just feel.

None of this was news to me. Nor should it be news to anyone who has known me for thirty seconds or longer. But to me the realization that I am that much of a beginner was difficult. I suppose I brought my "advanced beginner" mind by mistake.

Learning something so new is uncomfortable and frustrating in the early stages. It has been some time since I've been this much of a beginner, so I guess I forgot. But tomorrow I'll be at class bright and early, trying again to be a clean slate and a calm mind.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-65986737877883573802016-01-22T11:00:00.000-06:002016-01-22T11:00:06.169-06:00On LeavingI am a nervous traveler. There's a whole checklist I go through before a long trip of any kind. This starts about two weeks out from my departure date. The list includes necessary things like leaving a check for the pet sitter and taking out the garbage. But the bulk of the list consists of things like checking that my (brand new) passport has not expired, searching my email for flight confirmation information, counting pairs of socks, checking my passport, picking up and putting down my suitcase, and checking my passport.

With all of this nervous energy, I sometimes find it hard to focus. Ever. I imagine in my brain a rubber pinball being batted around by ADD mice with tennis rackets. And I thank goodness for the respite of clients. In session, I can find my lost focus and be in the present moment, no matter what is going on with my passport.

In between, though. Oh my goodness. Today, after a deeply focused session, I stepped out to get my client a glass of water and within 30 seconds I FORGOT WHERE I WAS. Fortunately my brain still picks up on context clues and no client was left dehydrated.

I find it interesting that my work is both what makes it necessary for me to travel and what makes it possible for me to function while I am worried about the travel. It is both respite, and the author of the need for respite. I am grateful for both.

I am also grateful to everyone who trusts me with their bodies and their wellness. I'm leaving for a while, but I'm coming back to continue to earn that trust, every day, every session.

This last week before I go, I am touched by the kind words and generosity of every one of my clients. I have been wished safety, peace, renewal, fun and all good things you could possibly get from travel. And -- most important to me -- I have been assured that I will be missed, and my return will be a happy occasion.

Even before I leave, then, I am looking forward to coming home again with my new eyes and new knowledge -- ready to be a better, focused, more aware massage therapist for everyone.

Until then, like this blog post, I remain joyfully scattered.

Now, where is my passport . . . .

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-58315187258813436442016-01-17T07:00:00.000-06:002016-01-17T07:00:11.813-06:00End of Year ReviewTowards the end of 2014, I got some advice from a business coach. She suggested I spend some time writing out my 2015. She said to go month by month and write down everything that would happen in that month. The idea was that if I wrote something down, it would become part of my brain somehow. I would start doing things to make those goals happen, almost without realizing it. The written word is powerful, she said. I couldn't agree more.

The last few days of 2014, I took myself to Kentucky for a few days, stayed by myself at a cabin in a state park, hiked all day and wrote at night. I called the thing I wrote my manifesto.

The first few months came easily. I wrote in a flurry -- visioning and planning my future as fast as I could move my pen over the paper. I wrote in an incredible amount of detail about the people I would meet, the number of clients I would have, and how I would feel while doing it. I felt pretty smugly realistic about it, too. I threw in some challenges, and even a few setbacks.

Everything was clicking along until I got to writing September. I stalled. I filled up half a page with doodles and scribbles before I finally managed to eke out a loosely drawn page or two. The rest of the manifesto was equally challenging. December, I recall, was barely half a page. (By contrast, February was getting on for 6 pages before I was done.) Still, I came back from Kentucky clutching that green notebook like it would drag me into the future depicted on its pages.

And then, the universe gigglesnorted and did whatever it damn well pleased.

Sure, many of the things I wrote about did happen. I did leave my soul-sucking teaching job to focus on more soul-building teaching opportunities. I did move to a new home. (Twice -- but to be fair I didn't really specify "Move only one time" in the manifesto.) I did send out a newsletter in the first week of every month.

And many of the things I wrote did not happen. I spent a good part of last year (when I wasn't moving) going back to Kentucky where I was needed. While this put a damper on the goals of the manifesto, I was damn grateful that I could do it.

So, really, the year in action went much like the writing of that year. Clicking along easily at first, until I stalled, hiccuped and got derailed. But now, after the end of that year, I would still call it a success.

I spent the entire year employed by myself doing work I chose with my heart and soul.

I spent the better part of the year being present for family and friends when they needed me.

I spent a part of most days engaged in some creative pursuit.

All in all, 2015 was a powerful year in both its written and lived forms. Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-71516826040555748112015-12-14T16:41:00.002-06:002015-12-14T16:41:56.839-06:00Thailand as Fire Prevention Strategy"I love my job, but there is also a high potential for spiritual and emotional burnout."

I am meeting lots of new people. They are interested in what I do, so I find myself saying things like that a lot. Because it's true.

I intend to do this work (and train other therapists to do this work) for a very long time, so I have a simple burnout prevention strategy in place. I will tell you my secret:

Get the heck out of town.

Yes, it's true. In order to give my clients and students the support and kindness I know they deserve, I need to get away for a while. Perhaps this might resonate for some of you if I replace "clients" with "family," "co-workers," or even "partner." When I take care of myself, I can give more to others. For me, taking care of myself involves shifting what my eyes see so my brain can release and find new ways to interact with the world.

It has been a particularly challenging kind of year, so I am taking a particularly dramatic break in January and February. I will be going to Thailand and Costa Rica to explore the world and other things I love about it. And because my clients and students are some things I love about the world, I am sharing with you here (in FAQ format) some idea of what I will be doing:

How long will you be gone?

Almost a month.

What are you doing in Thailand?

I am going on the Thailand Adventure Trip organized by Blue Lotus in Chicago. We will study Thai massage and other healing modalities. I am also hoping to learn something about traditional Thai temple dances, and of course to eat all the food.

Can I get a Thai massage when you get back?

Of course -- but not from me. Learning to practice Thai massage takes much longer than the short time I am in Thailand. I'm sure I will learn techniques that I can incorporate into your regular massage, but for a full Thai massage, I recommend you connect with a Registered Thai Therapist.

Wait -- Costa Rica?

Yes! This part of the trip is all for joy. I am going on a bellydance and yoga retreat with one of my favorite teachers, the incomparable Rachel Brice. It just happened that this trip starts just as the Thailand trip ends.

Can I learn to bellydance when you get back?

I hope you do! And why wait for me to get back? But, again, learn from someone more qualified than I am. I recommend my first and continuing teacher, Malik at Hip Circle Studio in Evanston.

What will I do for massages when you are gone?

I am preparing a list of colleagues at the Heartwood Center who have similar training to me, and who may have openings during that period. I look forward to working with each of you when I return. I sincerely hope that you continue to make your wellness a priority while I am gone.

What if I have more questions?

Ask me!

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-74027152283961504442015-11-24T08:52:00.002-06:002015-11-24T08:52:18.955-06:00When the Student is Ready . . .. . . . the teacher will appear.

In high school, a funeral director came and talked to us about how she prepared a body for viewing. She passed around the plastic disks they use to keep eyelids shut. I immediately wanted to go to mortuary school. Even though the funeral director was standard American beautiful, blonde and bubbly, I felt this ambition would be frowned upon. I was already quiet, drawn to Edgar Allen Poe and stormy Victorian novels. I had both a black leather jacket and an ankle-length black trenchcoat, and enough sense to know that further tipping the "weird" scales might cause more anxiety than I wanted. So instead, I studied literature.

Eventually, through a series of twists and turns and misdirections, I found my way to being a massage therapist -- drawn there because I had been working in nursing homes and retirement communities. I felt compelled to train for something that would be more directly of service to older adults. Most of all, I wanted to work with the people in later stages of dementia, or in hospice. My ambition still tilted towards the end of life, and finally I was able to express it and mostly ignore anyone who acted like I just tipped the weird scales.

After becoming a massage therapist, through a series of twists and turns and absolute serendipity, I found my way to oncology massage. I found myself still working with people near the end of life, but caught at that stage much sooner than we feel is natural. I needed to do more than trust my compassionate instincts and really learn about the dying process.

And that is how I found myself in this end of life class last month. We sat in a circle on the first day and our teacher asked us to introduce ourselves and say why we were there. Here is my best memory of what I said:
"In the same way that many people are drawn to children, I have always been drawn to people at the end of life. So I thought I should learn more about it."

And we went around the circle, and each person said their reason, their carefully curated truth. So our teacher nodded. She paused. She looked around at each of us and said:
"Okay. Now tell me why you're really here."

And the only thing I could think of for an answer was:
"I don't know why I'm here. But I'm supposed to be here."

I know what I said was true, and I am just now finding out why. Soon after I got back from that class, I was presented in rapid succession with clients whose conditions were deteriorating, and friends whose family members were actively dying, relationships ending, and general life upheaval. All that talk and meditation and reflection on the impermanence of life was (is) constantly, practically, in-my-face, REAL.

I've been in this place before, but I haven't been this person before. I felt all the lessons of my own past life upheavals finally came together inside the nurturing touch of that class, and I could finally just be. That fix-it instinct wasn't gone, but it was quiet. This is it. The still-emerging reason why I was really there. I was ready to just be, and just in time the teacher appeared.

Thank you, L. The learning continues.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-87772376439470078392015-10-27T22:03:00.003-05:002015-10-27T22:37:48.181-05:00Transcendent Moments of Massage.

I have the good fortune to be in the middle of seven straight days of classes. We having been learning about and discussing some pretty hard and heavy things — childhood cancers, extended hospital stays, the dying process. All of us are here because for our own reasons, we are drawn to this kind of work.

I am noticing again, though, a story we tell ourselves that I find unsettling. It is the story of the Sainted Massage Therapist. The one professional who floats in on waves of compassion and caring and leaves behind a moment of comfort and peace in an otherwise cruel world. We say things like, "I could provide that moment of comfort . . ." or "I gave her that connection . . ." or "This is beautiful work."

Here's the thing — we are not necessarily wrong to say these things. Those tiny moments of comfort in the midst of suffering make the work worth doing. And it is beautiful. Sometimes unbearably so, because it puts our hearts on such clear display.

Where I get unsettled, though, is when we start to believe our own mythology. We can start to tell these stories a way to keep ourselves ultimately separate from our clients. It turns into a protective barrier, emphasis on barrier. When we make ourselves into Saints or Superheroes, we isolate ourselves. (Wonder Woman, Spiderman, Batman — their lives were all solitary.) We need to find a way to stay in the human realm.

One of my favorite massage moments illustrates this perfectly:

I was doing my clinic rounds for a Geriatric Massage class. We were working on the dementia floor of a Skilled Nursing facility. My client was confined to her bed, and clearly had been for a long while. She had limited verbal communication, and was about 80 pounds. I brought a chair over to her and held her hand. She turned her face towards me and started humming — no specific tune, just a gentle humming of different notes. It felt like I should join in, so I started humming along. Somehow we matched each other's pitch and tone and made a little music together while we held hands. The class instructor stopped in the doorway to watch and called some of the staff over to see this beautiful, transcendent moment.

After about 5 minutes, the woman stopped humming and turned even more towards me. She reached her other arm over and held my hand in both of hers. I could see she had something to say so I leaned in close to her. She took a deep breath and said, "It's poop."

And I took a breath in and knew that it was.

I plan to remember these messy human moments, right next to the transcendent ones.
Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-38599379896666364952015-10-19T12:56:00.001-05:002015-10-19T14:10:57.861-05:00Letter to a Client, Long Passed
I am regularly asked things like "How can you handle that work?", or "What do you do when someone dies?" This letter to one of my former clients is yet another attempt to answer those questions.

______________________________________________

This is how I knew that you had died: your husband called me. He used your phone, so I knew to answer the call. I was not surprised to hear his voice instead of yours, since you had missed our last few appointments because you were too fatigued. He told me that you had passed away, just the night before. He seemed collected until I thanked him for calling me, then he started to sob so much that he just hung up the phone.

Just the week before your husband had called me on your phone to see if I would come to the house to give you a massage. You were too weak to call yourself, he said, and you had family visiting for a while. He felt sure, though, that after they left you would want a massage.

There were many things about you that brought me joy, but one of them was not even you -- it was your husband. The way he looked at you. Even when you were half-asleep in a lounge chair, connected to an IV line with your bald head covered by a crooked felt cloche, he looked at you with the purest love and admiration I have ever seen.

There is a story about you that I tell to every class I teach. You came to my office for a massage, and you had been having a rough week. We did a very gentle, slow massage without much movement and lots of attention to being present and breathing. After the massage you asked me what kind of energy work I was doing because you felt something come in and strengthen you. I told you that I don't do energy work; that I am not trained in that kind of work so I couldn't claim to be doing it. You grinned at me and said, "Bullshit!" You were right. What you felt was true, even though I had no explanation for it.

I met you first by reading your chart at the cancer treatment center. Your chart was dismal, to be honest. An advanced stage of a notoriously difficult-to-treat cancer, inoperable tumor, one of the nastiest chemo combinations I knew of. But then I met you in person. You were so thrilled by the idea of getting a massage that you grinned through the whole thing. You told me hysterical stories about your family. You knew exactly what you were in for, but still managed to say "I feel like crap today" in a way that sounded like optimism.

Okay, confession time. First: as soon as I met you, I was preparing myself for the idea that you would die soon. There are fantastic, unexplained, miraculous things in the world. I wanted and hoped for this for you -- but I also knew the statistics of your kind of cancer. As one of my favorite books says, "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

Second: I kept your number in my phone for a long time. Occasionally, as I scrolled through on a data-clearing mission, I would think about deleting it. Most of the numbers I delete are from people I don't know (or care to know) anymore, so deleting your number felt wrong.

And finally: I don't remember your name. I remember your face, your laugh, some of the exact details of your treatment and disease progression. I remember that the last time I saw you, you were wearing new jeans and you had trouble getting into your pocket to get the check you had for me. But your name is gone.

I am left, lucky me, with all the joy I got from your spirit, and all the learning I got from your heart.

Thank you.

Love Always,

--R
Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-64520000466709025282015-10-18T18:44:00.001-05:002015-10-18T18:44:16.483-05:00Synonyms for PainThere are moments in this work that bring home the absolutely clear distillation that only comes from great pain. Today I saw a child reach out for his loving mother as the only response available to significant pain. Never mind that the child was a nearly 40-year-old man*, and the mother, for all her loving kindness, could not begin to touch the pain arising from his multiple abdominal tumors.

He was short with her, sarcastic in a way you expect from teenage boys who don't want to clean their rooms. She hovered over him, carefully avoiding mentioning certain procedures so as not to upset him. It was an entire boy's childhood enacted in a 30-second vignette. And draped over it all was the presence of his physical pain.

The hospitalist came while I was there, so I stepped out to give them some privacy. When I came back in the son was looking at his mother, clearly needing someone else to help him decide. "Should I take something, then?" he said. She nodded, "I think it would be a good idea." He called the nurse, who gave him a small dose of a large painkiller. He settled into a comfortable position, ready to receive gentle, soothing touch. I held his feet, head and hands with a warm, weightless hold, visualizing a space clearing in the center of his pain -- one small, comfortable space where he could sit for a little while.

After his massage, I walked down the hall with his mother, who held my hand the whole way. "What are you doing to take care of yourself?" I said. She stopped and turned to face me. "I don't know," she said, "that's a good question."

She walked back to her son's room without an answer. Her hands worked at her sides and her shoulders slumped, trying to balance the weight of her own, significant, excruciating pain.

*--names and identifying details have been changedRebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-38810865894318135372015-10-09T08:49:00.002-05:002015-10-09T08:49:55.014-05:00Your Attention PleaseAs part of the preparation for a continuing education class, I am reading a book called The Grace in Dying by Kathleen Dowling Singh It is a brilliant, deep and thoughtful exploration of the transformation that happens in what the author calls the "nearing death" experience. I have started keeping a notebook next to me as I read because there are phrases in the book that I want to capture for later -- little snapshots I am collecting for my own personal album.

Remember snapshots and film? When we used to take pictures without knowing what they would look like until we got the pictures back from the developer? Remember the surprise moment of seeing again those things you experienced? As I am going back to my notebook for these phrases, I am having these delicious surprise moments. When I write down a phrase, I often don't know why it sent a hook into my attention, I just know I want to capture it. When I see it again, my eyes are new.

Here is one (where the author discusses the Surat Shabd tradition):
" . . . . attention itself, in its directed coherence, is none other than that which we call the soul."

I wrote that down in a rush, hurrying to continue a particularly engrossing part of the book. I looked back on it this morning, and thought, "Yes!" That thing we sing songs to, go on retreats to cultivate and share only with our most intimate of friends -- the soul -- can be understood as focused, direct attention. This makes perfect sense to me, because I know I feel most connected when I am using my attention. When I listen intently to a friend, when I stop to examine the exact shade of red on a newly-changed leaf, when I massage. It is these moments when I am less of a lone individual walking this earth, and more of a connected, integral part of the deeper rhythms all around -- what Singh calls "the ground of being."

I am taking this idea into my work, trying to create a space where in addition to stepping out of the mad rush of life for a while, my clients can step into a connection with something beyond themselves, in whatever way makes sense to them. You have my attention.

Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-495775211369423297.post-72688116606267646252015-08-26T10:51:00.000-05:002015-08-26T10:51:10.822-05:00How's the Pressure?At some point early in your massage, your massage therapists may ask you: "How's the pressure?' or, "Is that pressure okay for you?" Why do we do that?

Massage therapy is, by definition, the manipulation of the soft tissue of the body. This involves a certain amount of force. When your massage therapist asks about pressure, she or he is checking in to see if you are comfortable with this amount of force. We can feel lots of things in your tissues, but we don't feel when we have crossed the threshold from therapeutic into painful. For that, we rely on your feedback.

Most of the time, the person in control of how much force gets applied to your tissues is you. Your massage therapist wants you to speak up when something feels like it is too much (or too little.) If it is safe and reasonably possible, your massage therapist will adapt to your preferences.

There are exceptions, however. Your massage therapist wants to have a long and healthy career, so she or he may not do some techniques that cause pain and strain in their own body. Your massage therapist also wants to make sure the session is safe for you, so she or he may adapt with respect to any medical challenges you may be facing. For example, for anyone in active cancer treatment, deep pressure will not be a part of the massage.

Part of our responsibility as massage therapists is to listen to your requests and communicate our response clearly. Sometimes our response to a request will be "No," which should always be followed by our clear explanation.

Your responsibility as a client is to listen and ask for clarification. When your massage therapist asks "How's the pressure?" she or he is open to continuing the conversation about how to create the most effective session for you. We are looking for an honest answer. Don't like to talk at all during your massage? Tell your massage therapist in the intake that you will let her or him know if something needs to change during the session. Rebecca Sturgeon, LMT, CMLDThttps://email@example.com


text:
Big Muddy Reviews
Top Critic
May 29, 2015
It's a quintessentially Canadian idea mixed in with the material Moneo borrows from various hard-boiled film noirs and sun-dappled westerns.
Full Review | Original Score: 3/4
Top Critic
May 28, 2015
Big Muddy often looks darkly sublime but the script, expanded by Moneo from his 2011 short, isn't quite up to the task.
Full Review | Original Score: 2/4