What Massage Taught Me About Healing (That Science Alone Couldn’t)

I spent last weekend at a 2-day massage workshop.

It’s something I had wanted to do for years. I have many books on massage for sport and relaxation, but until now, I’d never committed to an in-person clinic.

And let me tell you: I learned so much—about the body, about connection, and about myself.

And I want to share some of those learnings with you.

In this week’s newsletter, we’ll talk about the power of touch:

• Its role in sports medicine and recovery

• Its emotional depth—how it can regulate, soothe, and repair.

• And how touch, especially in today’s overwhelming world, can be a place of intimacy, refuge, and life.

We’ll start with the science-based research, yes.

But there’s something deeper to explore too—the way our body holds stress, and how safe, intentional touch can offer us a much needed reset.

Let’s dive in.

Overview

• Why I Signed Up For The Clinic

• What Research Says on Massage

• 3 Lessons I Learned Providing Massage

• 4 Ways To Apply This To Your Life

Why I Signed Up For The Clinic

A few months back, a friend recommended a massage therapist here in San Francisco. I booked a session, and before we even began, the therapist asked me:

“What’s your relationship to your body?”

— “I love my body,” I remember replying.

We spent the next few minutes expanding on my emotional health and how I’d been feeling—not just physically, but as a whole person.

It was the slowness and intentionality of that exchange that immediately shifted the tone of the session. This wasn’t about fixing something tight. It was about tending to my body—my mind, my heart, my nervous system—with care and attention.

That approach resonated deeply.

It aligned with what I’ve spent years in therapy working toward: understanding my body not as something separate from myself, not secondary to my brain, but as its own source of wisdom, memory, and intuition.

I spend my days watching athletes move, recover, and relate to their bodies. Learning a new hands-on modality felt like a natural extension of that work—and a chance to reconnect with my own body in the process.

So when that same massage therapist posted about an upcoming workshop, I signed up.

What Research Says on Massage

3 Lessons I Learned Providing Massage

This workshop turned out to be more than just perfecting technique. It was about learning how to be fully present with another human body.

How to offer care through your hands. How to listen—not with your ears, but with your attention. Here are the three lessons that stayed with me:

Touch Is Worth a Thousand Words

Before we started massaging, we sat in a circle and did a vulnerability exercise.

We each wrote on small slips of paper—first, the mask we tend to wear in the world. Then, the part of ourselves we wish others could see. The papers went anonymously into a hat, and one by one, we pulled them out and read them aloud.

Folks shared a lot of external traits that seemed to reflect the pressure we all feel to be a certain way—be put together, confident, strong.

And what people wished they could show? Vulnerability. Pain. Suffering. Loss.

It changed how I saw everyone in the room.

And it was in that context that I found myself understanding massage differently—not just as a physical technique, but as a way to really hold space for someone.

To say with your hands: I see you. You are worthy. You are loved.

Now I see touch as a tool I can sharpen and carry with me—for healing, connection, and care.

[My brain’s making a connection here to something I heard Esther Perel say on this podcast—about how the erotic isn’t just about sex, but about aliveness… a kind of antidote to numbness, to disconnection, to death. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.]

Slowness Is Its Own Kind of Strength

Another big takeaway was slowing down. In fact, they said to remember as we massage to think slow, slower, slowest—and that then we’d be in the right direction.

Not going to lie, there was an urge to move quickly. To keep up with the instructor as they guided us through the massage. To stay on pace.

But when I actually slowed down—when I stopped trying to match the instructor’s rhythm—I found something else: my own intuition.

My hands started to move in a way that felt natural, responsive, grounded. They weren’t just following steps—they were listening. And the slower I went, the more powerful it felt.

Even the pauses—just letting my hands rest—began to carry meaning. They offered stability, presence, depth. And a moment for my nervous system to settle - and theirs too.

Funny enough, writing this now, I realize it mirrors what I tell athletes all the time:

• Slow down

• Take inventory of your body

• Move with quality, not urgency

Whether it’s touch or movement, recovery or training—the slower you go, the more you can feel. And the more you feel, the more you can learn to trust what comes next.

A Different Kind of Closeness

Each day I left the workshop, I felt like I had to re-enter the world.

It reminded me of coming back from a few days in the woods—where everything slows down, your nervous system settles, and then suddenly you’re back in the noise.

The contrast was jarring.

Because inside that room, something else had been possible: stillness, quiet, care. Not just for myself, but between myself and another person.

Massage, in that space, became more than just physical touch—it became a form of refuge. A place to rest. To let go. To feel held, even for a moment, in a world that so often demands we keep going.

And now, I see it differently.

This isn’t just something I experienced. It’s something I can return to. Something I can offer.

If I need a break from the noise, this practice is there. And if someone I care about is holding too much, I can offer them this pause, too.

That’s a different kind of closeness—quiet, restorative, human.

4 Ways To Apply This To Your Life

1. Movement of the Week: Suboccipital Release
   
   Since we’re talking about massage and the power of touch, this week’s Movement of the Week is a simple but powerful self-myofascial release technique.
   
   Self myofascial release (MFR) is basically a way of applying pressure to your own soft tissue using tools like foam rollers, massage balls, or even your hands.
   
   This one in particular—suboccipital release—is one of my favorites from the massage training. It’s great before bed, after long days of computer work, or anytime you feel tension building in your neck or jaw.

   
   Instructions:
   
   A. Lie on your back with two massage balls (or tennis balls) in a sock, placed under the base of your skull.
   

   B. Let your head rest passively. No need to roll—just breathe and let the weight of your head create gentle pressure.
   
   C. Stay for 1–2 minutes, breathing slowly and just…
   

   

2. Book a Massage at San Francisco School of Massage
   
   The SF School of Massage Student Clinic is what it sounds like, a student clinic. But don’t let that fool you—the work is thoughtful, intentional, and supervised. For $50, you’ll get a full 60-minute session. A great way to support learning practitioners and your own body.
   

3. Offer a 2-minute shoulder or hand massage to someone you love

   
   No tools. No certifications. Just presence. Ask for consent, slow it down, and be curious. You’d be surprised how much connection can come from even a few quiet minutes of touch. And if you’re the one receiving—practice letting yourself fully receive.
   

4. Come to Yoga with Me This Sunday at Flagship

   
   I know this isn’t exactly massage, but it’s in the same spirit: breath, movement, slowing down. I’ll be there this Sunday, April 6—come join me if you’re local to SF. Class is at Flagship Castro @ 1130am Sunday.

In a world that constantly asks us to move faster, touch reminded me to slow down. To feel more. To listen—first to myself, and then to others.

Whether it’s through movement, massage, or simply being present with someone you care about, these small moments of connection matter. They create space. They build resilience. They remind us that we don’t have to carry it all alone.

If you need anything, whether in training or in your day-to-day, hit reply on this email and let’s check-in.

Much love— Ivan