It’s been too long: too long since I’ve greeted you at my office and asked what it’s like being you these days… too long since I’ve worked with your body… too long since we’ve scheduled your time to come back… too long. I miss you!

As much as I wish we could work together in person, I have decided not to reopen my massage therapy practice at this time. As I said in my open letter last week, I cannot confidently conclude, based on what we know (and don’t know) about COVID-19, that I can safely do my work right now. I write this to you with sadness and grief, even while I know that it’s the right decision.

Please know that I will let you know as soon as anything changes. 

I wonder how you are, what your days are like these days. I hope you have stayed healthy and well. And let’s not forget sane! I wonder how your body is feeling, where it hurts. I wonder how you are sleeping. I wonder how your mood is, and if you’re being friendly with your dear self. I wonder what’s been hard for you, what you miss, whom you miss, where you miss being or going…

That pretty much sums up the reason for this letter to you, except for also wanting to let you know that I am doing OK. Hanging in there, like I think we all are doing our best to do. There are even some ways in which this odd time has agreed with me. It’s good to notice those things, too: 

• My scrappy, oddball little garden gives me so much joy. I love watching things grow! Also, I think composting is sexy. I love “making dirt” from food waste.
• I’m writing a book. It’s a memoir called “Home(sick)” — it’s all about my journey from homesickness, eating disorder, and suicidal depression and anxiety to health and finding a home right inside my own, now dear-to-me, body. (Does that ring a bell? Yeah. It’s my own personal version of my business’ tagline: “At home in your body, at home in the world.”)
• The online drop-in meditation class that I’ve been teaching/facilitating every weekday since March 17. I offer the class for others, but boy has it been good for me as well. Maybe you’ll pop in one of these days! I guide you in tuning in and cultivating friendliness toward your own dear self (a.k.a. “Focusing”) and then we meditate, and then we have time for questions and reflection. Boom! 45 minutes. Every weekday.
• Good, as well as sometimes quite crappy, TV (Netflix, Prime and Hulu)!  I really liked Dead to Me (irreverent, dark, funny). Last Tango in Halifax (funny, heartfelt, smart, British.) Gentefied (Latinx community in LA). An excellent and moving documentary on PBS, College Behind Bars. And, I’m embarrassed to say, but hey, I’ve had lots of open evenings, okay? Married at First Sight. That’s right. Horribly addictive. (Mr. Heidi’s Table calls it, “OPP: Other People’s Problems.”) And, oh yeah, a much better, masterfully edited show about people getting together called Dating Around. What else? Oh yes! All the cooking and baking shows. All!
• Well my dear, I’m going to sign off for now. I’d love to hear from you, how you are, what you miss, what crappy TV shows you’re addicted to… you get the idea! Write a comment here, drop me an email, and if you are an in-person client of mine, please feel free to book yourself a 15-minute check-in Zoom call. (It’s $1 — only because my booking system requires me to charge more than $0 to register it as a service).*

Be so well, wear your mask when you go out, and stay safe! I send you the warmest hug.

Heidi

*Other remote services –Bodywork & Focusing sessions– are also available. Read more.

The post A letter to my clients… appeared first on Heidi's Table.

Dear Jim and Margery,

I love you guys. Huge fan! Listen whenever I can, live, and also subscribe to your show on Stitcher so that I can hear it when I miss it live. By listening to you I get to keep my finger on the community and political pulse. Also, you make me laugh, which I’ve especially appreciated during these last few months. I was sorry to have missed the beginning segment of your show yesterday regarding Part 2 of Phase 2 reopening the state. I would have called in, or at least tried!

I am a nationally certified and Massachusetts-licensed massage therapist. (I would be remiss not to take the opportunity to emphasize that my title is “massage therapist” not, as many folks call us, “masseuse.” Also, where I work is not a “parlor.” The connotation of the word “masseuse” and “parlor” is back rooms, secrecy, under-the-table and possibly illicit interactions and transactions. That is not what massage therapists do. Language matters!) I am a massage therapist with a private practice in an office. I love my work and would like to continue doing it for decades to come. But on March 17 I temporarily closed my doors and stayed home to do my part in stopping the spread of this novel SARS-COV2 corona virus — my part to keep my clients, myself and my community safe. Which brings me to the reason I am writing:

Re: re-opening massage therapy

No matter how therapeutic and healing it is, no matter how much we love it, massage therapy is not essential. More importantly, many massage therapists believe that massage therapy is a high risk profession when it comes to transmission of COVID-19. There is too much we don’t know or understand to be able to practice safely or confidently yet.

Although Governor Baker and state officials have said that it is okay for us to reopen as of yesterday, I —and many of us— would like for this matter to be reconsidered.

According to the CDC*:

COVID-19 spreads mainly among people who are in close contact (within about 6 feet) for a prolonged period.

There are aspects of the practice of massage therapy which fundamentally violate these CDC recommendations:

• We typically spend 60-90 minutes with each client*
• Much of that time, we are in direct physical contact. Social distance is impossible.* (Measures like contactless payment and asking clients to wait in their cars rather than the waiting room are laughable precautions when we are about to touch them — skin on skin— for 60 – 90 minutes.)
• Many of our treatment rooms are small, enclosed, and poorly ventilated spaces.* (Further, massage therapists who are employees or independent contractors in a spa or other clinic or wellness establishment may not have ultimate say in where/how they practice.)

Other extremely relevant concerns include:

• We cannot screen clients who are asymptomatic.* (Up to 45% of COVID-19 infections may be asymptomatic)
• Blood clotting: COVID-19-related blood clots occur even in “asymptomatic” cases. Clots are an extreme contraindication for massage therapy. We may not know if a client comes in with a clot. Early symptoms of clot may include “sore leg muscles,” which is often a reason someone seeks out massage therapy in the first place. Movement of a clot induced by massage can be deadly.*
• Best practice guidelines for the massage therapy profession require full PPE — not just masks — but full PPE among other strict and arduous sanitation practices. Proper use of PPE requires training. Proper use of N95 mask alone requires an hour long training. There are currently no trainings for this in place for our profession. Furthermore, availability of PPE is of concern, and considering the shortage, supply MUST go to essential medical providers, which massage therapy/bodywork is not.*

Most professions in the “personal services category” (in which we massage therapists in in Massachusetts have been included for part 2 of phase 2) do not share all of these risks.*

It is worth mentioning the reason I suspect some massage therapists have been pushing for reopening: financial concern and livelihood. Massage therapy is not a lucrative profession. For many it is a month-to-month kind of livelihood. Many massage therapists, especially therapists working in establishments like spas, work as independent contractors with no benefits by their employer. Or we are self-employed (like me). As such we are not eligible for regular unemployment benefits. Pandemic Unemployment assistance, which has been a life saver financially for many of us during the last 2 months, is slated to end in July. It is understandable then, though very unfortunate, that a number of people in our profession who, concerned for their financial security, may be pushing to overlook COVID-19 red and yellow flags related to safety.

If there is anything you can do in relation to this matter, even if it is giving voice to my/our concern, I’d appreciate it.

I’d also like to get word out about a great resource for other massage therapists who are feeling uncertainty and doubt about re-opening:  The Facebook group,“Massage, Health Practitioners and COVID-19,” is filled with scientifically-based research and discussion, as well as support and community.

Lastly, if you ever wanted to do a segment related to this, I –and many in my profession– would applaud you and be very grateful for the airtime.

Experts in the field include local long-time oncology massage therapy practitioner and teacher Tracy Walton (see https://www.tracywalton.com/our-blog/) and Ruth Werner, who literally has written the textbook on pathology (now in its 7th edition) as it relates to practicing massage therapy (see http://ruthwerner.com/).

Jim and Margery, thank you for listening/reading. I appreciate your time! And please, don’t ever go off the air.

Warmly,
Heidi Fischbach

P.S. I will likely post this letter to you on my blog. More eyes!

An enormous thank you to Ellen Mossman, Beth Baron, and Francesca Genco for their research, advocacy and concise wording in the CDC quote and bullet point sections of my letter. The bulk of the starred wording(*) comes from letters they wrote to their governing bodies and representatives, and generously shared with the massage therapy community.

————–
Heidi Fischbach, LMT, Ed.M.
Do you feel at home in your body?
www.HeidisTable.com

The post An Open Letter to Jim Braude & Margery Egan of Boston Public Radio Voicing Concerns Over Re-Opening Massage Therapy During Phase 2/Part 2 in Massachusetts appeared first on Heidi's Table.

I wish I could come by to thank you in person but this being 2009 and you having lived back in the 1200s it’s a wee bit complicated. But still: thank you! Your poetry has helped me live life with more kindness and understanding and humor toward myself and my brother and sister humans. And that, Mr. Rumi, is huge.

I think you’d be surprised and not surprised by the state of our world today. We still fight. And we still delight. We still make love and we still make war. Do we ever. What has changed is our capacity to manifest these things on a much larger scale, and that, necessarily, makes the stakes for both joy and suffering seem higher. Though maybe that—stakes being higher—is an illusion since Life does tend to inexorably move forward, come what may, in spite of our human shenanigans.

I want you to know that your poetry, beloved for centuries in your native lands (today called Iran, Turkey, Afghanistan…), has crossed all the oceans. Yes, your Persian words have been translated into many languages and just a couple years ago, matter of fact, you were named the most popular poet in America! This, probably in large part due to the work of a lovely man, a poet in his own right, Coleman Barks, who has and continues to translate thousands of your poems into English. And this in spite of our country having waged war upon not one but two of your people’s countries. (Much sadness about that).

I should know better than to name any one poem a favorite as I tend to have many favorites of many things and many poets but still: your poem The Guest House has been a favorite of mine for going on ten years, which I hope counts for something coming from such a fickle, multi-favoriting girl.

When I first heart The Guest House it felt like warm oil in kind hands on a sore and tired body. Your words, they smelled like rain on cracking, parched ground. The sentiment of your poem felt like an open-armed invitation for me to come home to myself.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

You mean I don’t need to make that mean thought go away? (As if I could!)

You mean there’s nothing wrong with me if depression has come to pay a visit?

You mean this thing of having difficult inner states is a human thing, not a Heidi-thing?

You mean I can be kind even to the most difficult of guests?

You mean this incredibly difficult guest that keeps visiting me in spite of my best efforts to remodel and transform my guesthouse might be clearing me out for something new?

What a notion! What a relief!

Mr. Rumi, my note today is prompted by an immediate, personal matter pertaining to my guest house, and one guest in particular:

Anxiety. Not a new guest. At all. In fact, for many years Anxiety had pretty much taken up residence inside me. Oh those were some scary times. I did not, then, know Anxiety was simply a guest passing through. I thought it WAS me. It was in charge! I was living at its mercy, cowering in a closet or running away.

Thankfully, much has changed, in large part on account of gentle remodeling of my house more along the lines of your Guest House, wherein I’ve cultivated Kindness as the Presence that runs the place.

But still, of all the guests that visit the house of me, Anxiety is my most difficult. And here it is, AGAAAAAAIN! It’s enough to make me want to put up a “No Vacancy” sign.

(Whispering: I don’t like it. See this here bald spot on my head? Oh yeah. Anxiety made me pull those hairs out. M-hm, I don’t like it one bit.)

This guest brings with it a feeling at once far away and removed (as if a lamb’s coat of wool had been felted between my ears) and hyper sensitivity (as if I suddenly grew a million more motion detecting hairs on my arms). When Anxiety visits, it feels like a thick blanket of unease settles on the house of me: Heart rate, revved. Patience, threadbare. Tears, about to spill. Thoughts, multiplying like incestuous fruit flies. Mind, crowded. Future, doomed. Present— hunh? Wha—? Presence?

So I’ve been pulling out all the stops to take care of it and all the other guests in the house of me these days. I’ve written. I’ve been doing my best to be an impartial host to all. I’ve fed everyone well. They’ve been to the park. They’ve run. They’ve gotten fresh air. They’ve sat on the porch with lemonade. We’ve heard children laughing, running through sprinklers. I’ve written in my thought-book. I’ve worked. I’ve shown up. They’ve watched a couple episodes of my heroine-of-the-day, Buffy, on hulu. They’ve connected with friends. I’ve scheduled a massage for me …

By all accounts Anxiety should have checked out during the night, right?

But no. This morning, there it was coming down the steps to breakfast in those god-awful hole-y slippers it has. (Could it at least get with the times and update its wardrobe a bit? Or go barefoot for a change? Lighten up? It is, after all, the height of summertime.)

Mr. Rumi, as you can see, I’ve been doing my darndest to entertain this guest with magnanimity and kindness, but I’m having a hard time. Do you have any thoughts for me? Can you point me to another poem of yours?

I’d be most grateful.

Yours truly,

Heidi

The post Dear Mr. Rumi, thank you & could you help me with a guest. Love, Heidi appeared first on Heidi's Table.