The “Language” of Our Senses

I was recently approached to teach a workshop solely on soft tissue techniques, versus teaching touch while learning anatomy. Mulling over the idea brought up much of what I try to explore in this blog: what is the tactile feel as you explore an area of soft tissue; what is the intuition of touch as you work with any given individual; how years of experience gained compile and strengthen said intuitive feel; and how to describe in words what is felt, in giving and receiving through touch, when there doesn’t seem to be enough words in spoken language to define the feelings? 

Muscle tissue has many stories to share. A client of mine some years ago had their Achilles tendon surgically repaired, leaving scar tissue that thick, it creates a line of tensile pull all the way up to the sacrum on that same side. It’s subtle, but that pulling is visible in how she lies on the table and can be felt in observing it. We’re all roaming around living in a human body. Looking at any given story in a body, we can often feel it in our own; staying centered in our physical self and in touch with our physical sensory responses. Touching the scar tissue on the achilles and exploring its unique thickness, noticing the restriction and how it spills slightly out into surrounding areas and structures, having acceptance that the structure is different now yet still functional and can have some ease brought in though it’s already healed – perceptions and sensations so interesting to experience in communicating with the tissue.

Then always there is more – more stories, more to explore, more to experience, more to understand. Our bodies communicate to us constantly through many kinds of signals. We communicate with each other constantly through body language. The communications are real, often loud, and all without wordsI actually love language and the creative use of words, yet the array of communications a physical body can give astounds me. It’s a seemingly endless capacity, it is beautiful, and I remain lovingly in awe. 


Copyright © by Lara Stillo 2017