Student Stories

DRAPED — An online journal about what is going in (and out) of the mind of current Massage Therapy student Christopher Shelley.

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When Hara Met Shelley

All of us have a hara. You have a hara. That person next to you has a hara. I lived 37 years before I knew I had a hara. I went through high school, undergrad and grad school, all with no knowledge of the hara under my shirt. In undergrad, I had a bald acting teacher who convinced all of us that we had an aura. I had heard that my aura was blue, though others swore it was grey. 

In Shiatsu class, I learned that I have a hara. I wondered immediately if it had a color like my aura, and if so, what color it was, and if I could change it, so that I wouldn't have a white hara after Labor Day. 

I learned that haras were not about color, but they were something one could read, and I thought that was great because I like reading. 

Turns out, reading a hara is not as easy as it looks. It's supposed to be right there on the abdomen, but get this - you're supposed to use your fingers to read it. I'm not kidding. The hara is Shiatsu's main guide for reading human energy, and it's in there with all of your partner's vital organs. You don't need to remove any of your partner's skin to read their hara (I won't make that mistake twice), but you must be sensitive to specific zones that correspond to each of the body's 12 meridians. 

I observed my instructor, to whom for the sake of anonymity I will refer as Reggia Grazitom della Caesarnasiak, when he (or she!) read the hara. He (it was a he) placed his hands on a student's abdomen, poked several spots under the ribs, around and over the belly button, and in seconds reported back to us that the student had a jitsu* spleen and kyo* lungs.

How could it possibly be, I wondered, that he could know that by merely poking the abdomen? They must have met privately before class, and the student must have confided in the teacher that she had a jitsu spleen and kyo lungs. Surely this must be some kind of parlor trick.

My suspicion rose the following week, when, by simply asking a student to stick out her tongue, Reggia Grazitom della Caesarnasiak determined that she needed to drink more water. My skepticism got out of its chair. It thought, who among us could not stand to drink a little more water? My skepticism stood, looking around for fellow skepticism to flirt with.

My own attempts at reading haras were clumsy. After a few weeks I determined that I was hara-deaf, or rather, hara of hearing. At best, I could determine that someone had a full bladder, or that their belly-button meridian was pierced. Reggia Grazitom della Caesarnasiak told us not to worry if we couldn't feel anything when we palpate the hara, that Shiatsu is an ongoing conversation with our client. Regardless, I assumed that such a test would appear on the State Boards, and so I chose to panic.

Frustrated, I turned to the good people at Rosetta Stone, whose language learning series had recently expanded to include Hara. Rosetta Stone promised to have me reading haras in six weeks. Equipped with a full collection of interactive CD's, phrase books, and a Hara-English Dictionary, I hunkered down to study this mysterious thing called Hara. 

What a fantastic course. After dozens of hours studying, and of course several Shiatsu practice sessions and classes, I was finally capable of reading the hara fluently; I was a graduate of Haravard.

Now, I can have a wordless communication with someone's body. Some of the tidbits I touch upon while reading the wild varieties of haras in an average Shiatsu class: I allow my fingers to settle into the spot for the Heart meridian, and I learn of a long, drawn-out breakup with a boyfriend. Gall bladder has big plans - BIG PLANS! It's going to Vegas to be a ventriloquist. Stomach tells me that there is excess there, probably due to a daily parade of sausage-egg-n-cheese sandwiches. Liver confesses what its owner won't, namely that she drinks herself to sleep each night while watching Pop Up Videos. Triple Energizer sings of blood flow compromised by too many hours at a desk. A pair of Lungs makes sure I understand that her owner's line about 'only being a social smoker' is dubious. Spleen wrote a TV script about a belly button, called 'Cordless', and wonders if I have any connections in the business. Small Intestine asks me to come back later after it cleans. Large intestine launches into some long, twisting story but I can tell with a touch that it's completely full of it. Kidney is rolled up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, whispering some of Ophelia's lines from Hamlet. Bladder grabs me by the elbow, looks into my eyes, and pleads with me to get it onto the show Dirty Jobs.

No matter whom I work on, after reading their Hara, I now know intuitively that I should give them Kata 1*.

Put your hands on your class partner's hara, close your eyes, listen to what it tells you, and don't be obsessed with answers. The answers are in there somewhere, maybe. But questions lead us in new directions, and sometimes, you know, people are just mid-journey in a question. Sometimes you just have to hop into the question with them and turn up the radio when a really good song comes on.

(PS, 3 points are being deducted from my Pathology II final grade for the Haravard joke.)

*VOCABULARY:

Jitsu: whacked-out (American); rather solid, somewhat like a knuckle, I should say, what? (British); Jitsu (Japanese)
Kyo: soft (American); rather less than would be desirable, what? (British); Kyo (Japanese)
Kata 1: Shiatsu sequence of Water, Earth, Metal meridians taught in 2nd semester; also a little-known folk-duo from Saskatchewan, who wrote songs like 'Tonify the Mother, Send the Child to Boarding School', 'Five Elements, One Accordion', and 'Let Me Yin'.
Dirty Jobs: The best show to watch on television when you feel bad about your own job.
State Boards: Gigantic wooden planks shaped like States; also the biggest, most important test you will ever take in your life so start studying now.

Posted June 16, 2008

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Greetings, Fascia-nistas!

Welcome to Draped, a new adventure in comedic journalism on the Swedish Institute website. This column will explore current issues, obsessions, fears, dreams and anecdotes of current students, or whatever the monkey in my brain happens to be thinking of when I start typing. 

It’s difficult to get to know people at the school, what with our busy schedules, full-time jobs, families, parole officers, homework and practice sessions. I hope that my journal entries will help us all get to know each other through our shared recognition of the joys and stresses of studying massage at the Swedish Institute (a.k.a. the “Harvard of Massage Schools”). 

Draped will include my take on important vocabulary words, classroom dynamics, and anything else that may be stimulating our fight-or-flight response. I will explore all things indicated and contra-indicated. I will examine things from Eastern and Western perspectives, as well as from Northern and Southern perspectives, plus from a few I picked up in Europe. 

I hope to include brief interviews with fellow students, with the hopes of providing some fun and temporary relief from the pressures of everyday life here at school. Above all, my goal is for Draped to be a massage for your mind. 

Enjoy.
Christopher Shelley

Posted May 14, 2008

PS: You should really read SInews and explore the rest of the Swedish Institute website. It’s relevant to your career, and shorter than Pride and Prejudice. Also, it will make you rich and famous. And you will lose 5 inches from your waistline in just 6 weeks!

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