Kate Jones Rmt

12/15/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1AEa34NQxu/

Confessions of a Myofascial Trigger Point

I was never meant to be permanent. I began as a moment, a response, a slight tightening when holding felt safer than releasing. At first, it was subtle, just a brief pause in the tissue's rhythm. But the body asked me to stay. So I did. I shortened my fibers, thickened my layers, and held the chemistry still. I became a place where the river slowed and gathered its weight.

The body learned to move around me. Fascia stiffened along familiar lines, rerouting tension and sensation elsewhere. Pain drifted outward, tracing old pathways through the shoulder, jaw, back, or breath. I wasn’t creating chaos. I was containing it. I held pressure because something inside wasn’t ready to let go.

Then the hands came, not hurried, not demanding. They rested with warmth and attention, and I felt the first change before I understood it. Compression softened the alarm. The nervous system quieted its vigilance. Hyaluronic layers warmed and began to slide. A gentle current brushed past me as the fascial wave moved through the body, reminding the tissue of motion I thought had been lost.

When the wave reached me, it paused. I was seen. The hands didn’t press me deeper into holding. Instead, they slipped beneath me, lifting me gently toward the bone. The pressure shifted in different directions, changing the shape of everything I had been holding together. My fibers lengthened. Blood returned. Chemistry softened. I felt warmth where there had been tightness and a trembling where there had been certainty.

I tried to stay. Old patterns don’t dissolve easily. But time was offered instead of force. Breath moved. Electrical chatter quieted. The nervous system loosened its grip on the story I had been carrying. Slowly, and with only a little drama on my part, I melted. The dam cracked, and the water I had been holding found its way forward again.

As I released, the river surged outward, carrying the change through the fascial lines that connect the whole body. Where I once stood, there was space, warmth, and movement.

I was never the enemy; I was the pause that kept the body safe until it was ready. And when it was finally met with patience, presence, and understanding of a healer like you, I let go. The river remembered itself, and so did I.

11/18/2025

10/19/2025

Women's fascial tissue rebuilds itself twice every month - and this changes everything we thought we knew about cyclical pain.

Recent fascia research revealed that fibroblasts in the extracellular matrix respond to hormonal fluctuations during ovulation and menstruation.

When estrogen levels rise, the fascial system literally restructures itself.

Here's what happens: collagen type 1 (strong, load-bearing) decreases while collagen type 3 (more delicate, web-like) increases.

This shift makes fascial tissue more elastic - essential for adaptation during pregnancy and other physiological changes.

But there's a catch: collagen type 3 is more prone to sticking together and becoming inflamed when imbalanced. This discovery reveals a possible link between fascial tissue status and PMS symptoms.

It also helps explain why women experience higher rates of fascial-related conditions like fibromyalgia, joint hypermobility, and cyclical pain patterns.

Our fascial systems are literally rebuilding throughout our cycles.

For bodyworkers, this matters because what works during one phase of a client's cycle might feel completely different two weeks later. Timing and approach may need to adapt based on hormonal fluctuations.

Women's bodies aren't just different versions of men's bodies. Our fascial systems operate in fundamentally distinct ways - and that deserves recognition, dedicated research, and adapted treatment approaches.

This discovery could transform how we understand and treat conditions that women disproportionately experience - fibromyalgia, joint hypermobility, cyclical pain patterns and PMS symptoms.

When we recognize that fascial tissue is hormonally responsive and literally rebuilding itself throughout the menstrual cycle, it opens new possibilities for treatment timing, approaches, and research that could genuinely improve quality of life.

It's potentially life-changing for the millions of women whose symptoms have been dismissed or inadequately addressed.

09/25/2025

Oh hey, just your friendly reminder that you're out here walking around like a sentient pile of sore muscles and untapped potential.

Did you forget you have benefits? You know, that adulty magic that lets you get a massage without selling a kidney or bartering with a goat?

Let me guess:
You spent the summer playing "I’m still 22" every weekend — hiking, biking, lifting things that shouldn’t be lifted, aggressively pretending pickleball isn’t a full-contact sport. And now your body’s like, “Cool story, bro. Let’s creak every time you stand up.”

Well, plot twist:
You probably have a few massage credits just sitting there, collecting dust while your shoulders scream every time you reach for a coffee cup.

So maybe, just maybe, schedule that massage.
You earned it. Your hamstrings are already writing thank-you notes.

Leela Eco Spa offers services in Spa, Massage, Esthetics, Waxing and Acupuncture in Calgary and Winnipeg, committed to using eco-friendly products for our clients. Enjoy the best Calgary spa experiences with us.

09/04/2025

🌿✨ Now that the dust (and concrete) has settled from all the construction chaos… it’s time to play.

Next year, I’m opening up the 300 acres of wild, untouched boreal forest, the dome, and the gardens for something a little magical — and I want you to be part of it.

Think:
🍄 Mushroom foraging adventures (yes, I’m 98% sure they’re morels!)
🌱 Guided herb walks with all the sensory delights
🧼 A black spring soap-making workshop — Practical Magic meets practical skills
🥕 Farm-to-table goodness straight from the dirt to your dish
🌻 Garden work and slow-living in community with folks who get it

If you're an herbalist, a forager, a maker, or a nature witch looking for a space to gather, teach, or just reconnect — now's the time to reach out and lock in your dates.

Let’s turn this space into a seasonal playground for the curious, the earth-loving, and the slightly feral at heart. 💚

DM me, email me, send a crow — let’s get your gathering on the calendar.

09/01/2025

I walked into my house yesterday and heard nothing. Absolute silence. My teenager was home—his backpack tossed on the chair confirmed it—but there was no sign of life. No hello. No footsteps. No music blaring from behind a closed door.

I remember when that same hallway echoed with "Mom! Mom! MOM!" the moment my key turned in the lock. When small feet would race toward me, stories tumbling out before I could even set down my bags.

Now I have a different reality.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs and felt a wave of loneliness wash over me. I've been physically alone many times in my life, but there's something uniquely isolating about being emotionally alone while sharing space with teens you love more than life itself.

When my son was younger, his bedroom door stood open, a constant invitation. His world was accessible, transparent. I knew his friends, his fears, his dreams. I knew that dinosaurs had given way to space, which had given way to sports. I knew which songs made him dance and which homework made him cry.

Now his door remains firmly closed.

The boundary is clear. His world has walls now, and I'm often on the outside.
I
t's been three days since we've had a conversation that went beyond logistics: "Need a ride tomorrow?" "What time is practice over?" "Did you submit that college application?" Our interactions have become transactional, reduced to the essentials of managing a shared household.

The days of spontaneously shared thoughts and feelings seem like artifacts from another life.

Last night, I made his favorite pasta dish. He emerged from his room long enough to fill a plate, said "Thanks," and disappeared again. He meant it, he is not ungrateful. It's just that his focus, his life, is now largely someplace else.

I sat at our kitchen table alone, scrolling through old photos on my phone—images of a smiling child who once couldn't wait to tell me about his day.

I know this is normal. I know this is healthy. I know this is exactly what should happen as he builds his identity separate from mine. My head understands the developmental necessity of this distance.

But my heart feels the empty space like a physical ache.

The loneliness of parenting teenagers isn't just about their physical absence—it's about watching them process their biggest moments with someone else. It's about being demoted from confidant to bystander. It's about knowing they're struggling but waiting for an invitation to help that may never come.

Yesterday, I drove my son and his friend to practice. I was invisible in the front seat as they talked about a party, relationship drama, college choices—all the significant things happening in his life that he hasn't shared with me. I caught glimpses of my child in that conversation, versions of him I rarely get to see anymore.

It is hard to talk to other parents about this. Parents of teens seem to have retreated. We don't want to talk about their problems or how hard it can be to parent at this stage. Either it feels like an invasion of privacy, or it is just too painful.

Some days, I stand in the grocery store, staring at the boxes of cereal, wondering which one he prefers now. When did I stop knowing? When did the mental inventory of preferences I once maintained become outdated?

Tonight, I knocked on his door with a plate of cookies. He looked up from his computer, surprised. For fifteen precious minutes, he let me sit on the edge of his bed while he talked about a coding project he was excited about. It wasn't the deep heart-to-heart I sometimes crave, but it was connection. A small window opened briefly before closing again.

I'm learning that parenting teenagers means embracing these moments when they come—the unexpected car conversation, the late-night kitchen encounter, the rare request for advice. I'm learning to be ready without being needy, available without hovering.

Tomorrow, his bedroom door will probably remain closed. Our conversations will likely return to their functional minimum.

The loneliness will settle back around my shoulders like a familiar weight.

But I'll remember those fifteen minutes. I'll hold onto the knowledge that behind that closed door, he's still there—my child, becoming himself. And sometimes, when I least expect it, he still lets me in.

This is the paradox of parenting teenagers: they are simultaneously present and absent, ours and not ours. We are more alone with them than we ever were without them.

And yet, I wouldn't trade this lonely season for anything. Because these quiet hallways, these closed doors, these brief glimpses into their evolving worlds—they're signs that we're doing exactly what we're supposed to do: raising children who can exist without us.

Even if that means we sometimes exist without them while they're still under our roof.

09/01/2025

🎒✨ BACK TO SCHOOL SEASON ✨🎒
aka:
“Reminder to the chronically stressed that your unused benefits are about to vanish into the void again.”

Look, I’ve seen this show before.
Every. Single. Year.
You: “I’ll book soon!”
Also you: Forgets until December when I’m fully booked and your brain is a pretzel.

Let’s skip that part this year, shall we?

🧾 You’re basically donating part of your paycheck to the Insurance Gods.
🌀 You’re a little bit feral (with love).
💆‍♀️ I’ve been doing this for 16 years. I’m great at untangling humans. Let me help.

So let’s make a cute little adult decision together:
👉 Book the damn appointment.
👉 Use the benefits.
👉 Feel better.

I'll bring the skills, you bring the chaos. Deal?
See you on the mat or table soon!

08/13/2025

🌿 Support for a branch of our community tree: please Help our family in Their Time of Need 🌿

Hi friends,

We are walking through a challenging season.

After welcoming a precious preemie little fighter into the world, my brave little mama, my eldest daughter, is now recovering from complications related to the birth.

She’ll be coming home in a few days—but with two toddlers at home, dad working and daily trips to the NICU to visit their newest little fighter, they need our help more than ever. 💛

We’re trying to rally around them with love and practical support.

Here’s how you can make a difference:

✨ Drop off a frozen meal – Quick, nourishing food can ease the daily burden for a momma who will be on bed rest unless visiting the NICU.

👶 Offer to babysit – Giving them time to rest or visit the NICU without worry is priceless.

🚗 Help with errands or rides – Every little bit helps when life is split between home and hospital, they don't have a car.

💖 Donate – Whether it's funds, diapers, groceries, or gas cards, your generosity will go a long way.

This is a chance to show up with kindness and community. Let’s remind them they are not alone.

Please comment below or message if you’d like to contribute in any way. Thank you for helping us lift up this gentle, loving family during a tender time. 💫

08/12/2025

08/12/2025

08/12/2025

Well, she's everything. And now she has her own everything.

They have a full house and I could not be more proud. Welcome Echo. Momma and baby were recovering well at 130 when I left, however it was a hard go for Mom and dad and the 2 boys waitting for her rather dramatic entrance, even for 4 pounds she gave mom a run for her money.

If you have a spare minute this little family could use a hand, we are collecting donations for helpful preemie things as she's 8 weeks early and the registry is below.

If you have a favorite freezer meal, they are allergic to shellfish, and I'm sure something simple mom and the toddlers can microwave and feast on would be appreciated, as are any 'weirdo hippy' milk enhancing products.

1300 hours grenitch time, just like her mother. Beautiful child.

With Amazon’s Baby Registry, you can add items from Earth’s biggest selection and manage your registry on any device whenever—and wherever—you want.

07/29/2025