When a massage therapist has been working for a while, it can seem as if some body parts are talking during the session. Well, not verbally, of course, but spinning a yarn, letting it hang, somehow bringing their troubles up on the table.
Hey, we touch folks know verbiage and the written word are not the only ways we communicate, and the muscles sometimes give me what almost sounds like a wail. Kind of like the people who can hear colors instead of just seeing them.
Well, sometimes a client is bliss-unaware of what the muscle is saying and in me finds an audience. Like a good therapist, I listen. Last week this bicep had a certain ring to it, like it had been overworked, wrung and pressed. It had a field of adhesions 
running the length right past the inner elbow. This muscle was hot, thread-y and tired.
I was doing my best to open up the circulation, which created some good faces on my client. I mentioned to my client that what I “heard” was almost like a song.
Hyperextension Blues, by Bi-Cep.
I woke up this morning,
Ba-da-da-dum (Muddy Waters?)
Elbow extended again.
Bad-da-da-dum
No hope of performing,
Ba-da-da-dum
Feeling totally un-Zen….
Now both my heads are twitchy,
Bad-da-da-dum
I don’t know how I can move.
Bad-da-da-dum
It makes my throws off pitchy,
Bad-da-da-dum
And my body hates to lose.
I got the hyperextension blues
Hyperextension blues
I got the hyperextension blues
Hyperextension blues.
Well, I fixed the rhymes a bit, but you get the idea. My client and I had a good laugh about the bicep blues, and she told me not to quit my day job. Isn’t it fun when the body tells its own story?
