Why I Let the Body Lead: Trusting Energy Over Routine

For years, I told myself I was a bad massage therapist.

Not because I lacked skill—my clients returned. They softened under my hands. They cried. They slept. They came alive. But because I couldn’t seem to stick to the standard routines. Swedish sequence. Deep tissue protocol. Step-by-step structures drilled into me during training.

Every time I tried to follow them, I felt like I was betraying something. Not just myself—but the client. The body. The energy in the room.

What I didn’t know then, but I understand now, is this:

I was never meant to follow a script.

I was born to listen.

And bodies don’t speak in bullet points. They speak in stories, pulses, trembles, memories tucked into fascia. They speak through temperature shifts and sudden sighs. They speak through sacred silence. They guide.

When I let go of the routine and just followed, something changed. I stopped working on the body and started working with it. My hands became listening devices. My breath became a tuning fork. My presence became the medicine.

And the work deepened.

Because what most people need is not the “right” massage stroke. They don’t need a picture-perfect protocol. They need presence. They need to be felt, not just touched. They need someone who will follow the pain to its source—not just the place it hurts, but the place it began.

This is why routines felt like cages to me. Because I’m not here to deliver a service. I’m here to be in relationship—with the body, the moment, and the unspoken wisdom within.

And this is why I believe that healing isn’t something you do to someone. It’s something you create with them.

My role, whether I’m in session, sacred conversation, or ceremony, is not to impose a plan. It’s to witness. To respond. To hold. To trust.

If you’ve ever felt like your intuition was “wrong” because it didn’t follow the textbook, I want you to know: Your knowing is holy.

If the body tells you something, listen. If the energy shifts, follow. If the tears come, pause.

Let the body lead. It remembers the way home.

You are not broken for refusing the box. You are wise enough to walk the spiral.

And your clients—the ones who are meant for your medicine—will know the difference.

Because they won’t just feel better. They’ll feel met.