
Compared to other people I work with, his body is so different and yet, at a base level it’s so similar. The way that this condition has infiltrated his body and mind is fascinating (and very sad) to observe. When I’m working on him I like to think of it as an invader, instead of a part of him. I even send it little messages, to stop what it’s doing, to stop the tremors and allow his muscles just a short respite while he receives this treatment. And sometimes it listens. Sometimes it laughs at me and increases the shaking. Last week he asked me to stop because the tremors were so bad he was in pain, though the week before that the treatment was deeply relaxing for him.
During the times of quiet, it’s amazing to feel the transformation in those few minutes. To work with tissue that is so often active and has finally paused for a breath. It’s like, in those moments, his body gets to breathe again. While the invader sleeps, the body breathes and restores and nourishes. And I get to be there to see it, to help it, to encourage the invader to sleep, to encourage the muscles to take rest, to lengthen and to soften. It’s truly magical. His fingers and toes that are slowly being curled over, release and I can move them through a more complete range of motion – reminding the body of the different ways it can move. And every time this space opens up, I feel so grateful that I get to do what I do.

Doing this work, lights a fire in me. To bring the power of touch to as many people as I can. It’s those few minutes where the Parkinson’s rests, and the body revives that the true power of this work shines through.
[…] stress, Thai massage also targets more severe forms of bodily tension. For the past three years, a man with Parkinson’s disease has visited Hume after enduring the progressive disease for 19 years. Each week is different — sometimes, painful […]