A Sermon on the Science of Massage

This isn’t one of my rants about massage research–although that’s definitely a sermon I plan to keep on preaching. It’s about the basic things that we all ought to know, if we’re calling ourselves massage therapists.

I love anatomy and physiology, and the study of pathology is fascinating to me. The human body is an amazing thing, and the more I know about the way it works, the more competent and empowered I feel to do a good job as a massage therapist. Sadly, that sentiment isn’t shared by everybody.

I’ve been tutoring students and teaching my class in how to pass the exams for over ten years. I can’t tell you the number of times someone has said to me “I just want to do massage. Why do I need to know this stuff?” A few weeks ago, I actually had someone who has graduated from massage school (but not yet passed their exam) ask me where the trapezius is located. I didn’t know whether I should feel sorry for them at their lack of education, or whether to give them a swift kick in the butt and point out how lazy they must be not to know this by this time.

Due to the lack of regulation in some places (there are still 8 states where anyone who wants to may call themselves a massage therapist with no education at all), and the time-honored tradition of grandfathering people when legislation does come in, there are thousands of people practicing massage who know nothing of the sciences associated with it.

Massage is an art form, to me anyway, as well as a science. And I’ll concede that there are people who can give an amazing massage that don’t know what the trapezius is. But the fact is, I don’t want a massage from any of those people.

If I go to get a massage and say “It hurts when I do this,” I feel much better about getting it from someone who knows what muscle does that. If I make an appointment for a hot stone massage, and then put on the intake form that I am suffering from a severe case of peripheral neuropathy, I’d like for that therapist to know that I shouldn’t be receiving that type of massage. If I’m taking muscle relaxers, I’d like for the therapist to know that my muscle reflexes are inhibited and my sense of pain tolerance is dulled, and that therefore a lot of deep thumb work could leave me bruised and feeling battered. If I have a raging case of shingles, I’d feel better knowing that the therapist would send me back home without a massage. I might have walked in the door as an uneducated member of the public thinking that a little cream spread around on me would make me feel better. I’ve had that happen during my career. READ MORE...