I was thirty-two and as I was giving a friend a massage, I could see much older hands working on her and so wrote this poem.
“I watched my hand all aged and wrinkled, massaging her leg with a knowing wisdom, and knew my destiny. A wisdom not yet known, almost forgotten. Hidden in a memory of a lifelong past, when healing was my trade, and my hands were older than they are now.”
I moved to NSW for a job where I met Sally who was to become my wife.
Following advice from Sally, for whom teaching was a calling, I qualified as a teacher and worked in primary schools in NSW for some twenty years.
About 20 years ago Sally started going to Lesley, a Bowen Therapist who lived in our street in Sanctuary Point. Sally had been wearing built up shoes for years because she had been told she had one leg longer than the other.
Lesley told her that it wasn’t uneven leg length but misaligned hips. After only a few appointments Sally was realigned and had to buy new shoes.
Months later I had a frozen left shoulder, which I thought would just go away. I tried remedial massage and that had no effect. One evening after school I had to drive a manual car through several mountain passes. By the time I was halfway home my shoulder was excruciating. I didn’t think I could make it home, but there was nowhere to stop, so I drove on. After a sleepless night I could hardly get out of bed and was certainly in no condition to go to work.
Sally booked an appointment with Lesley and drove me there, telling me that I should walk home after the treatment.
After a stop start hour of treatment Lesley finally did some work on my shoulder. I felt more relaxed, but nothing had changed.
On my walk home I was swooped by magpies, leaving me feeling more vulnerable and less impressed with the treatment.
That afternoon I came to the realisation that I could actually move my shoulder.
Throughout the day it just kept improving. I was sold on Bowen therapy.
I retired from teaching and, after trying working as a handyman and doing a couple of TAFE courses, I was looking for a new direction.
My dad told us of a Bowen Therapist who had an amazing practice in my hometown.
I said to Sally “What would you think if I trained as a Bowen Therapist?” She said, “Yes please.”
So, on my fifty eighth birthday, I met with an instructor and started my journey into the mysteries of Bowen Therapy.
Now I get to watch my hands, much more aged and wrinkled than they were when I wrote the poem, helping people on their healing journeys.
John Holschier
May 2024