CoreNature Massage & Myofascial Release

12/14/2025

I once heard a doctor refer to fascia as nothing more than packing peanuts, a kind of filler material with little significance beyond holding things in place. For a long time, that belief shaped how fascia was taught and understood. It was treated as background material, passive and forgettable. Yet science, when given the chance to look closely, has a way of revealing quiet miracles hiding in plain sight.

As imaging technology improved and researchers began to study fascia in greater detail, an entirely different picture emerged. Through the work of scientists such as Robert Schleip, Carla Stecco, Helene Langevin, and others, fascia revealed itself not as inert wrapping, but as living, responsive tissue deeply integrated with the nervous system. Under the microscope, fascia appeared less like packing material and more like a finely tuned communication network. In some regions, it was found to be even more richly innervated than the muscle itself, filled with sensory nerve endings constantly reporting back to the brain.

Rather than sitting neatly around muscles, fascia behaves more like a three-dimensional spiderweb or a continuous fabric woven throughout the body. Tug on one corner, and the tension is felt elsewhere. Stretch one area and the entire system responds. Fascia blends into muscle fibers, connects across joints, and wraps organs, transmitting force, sensation, and information in every direction. It senses pressure, stretch, and movement the way a musical instrument senses vibration, responding instantly to changes in tone and tension.

This understanding transformed how we view the mind–body connection. Fascia does not simply move the body; it informs it. When emotional stress or trauma occurs, fascia adapts alongside the nervous system. Like a seatbelt locking during sudden braking, it tightens to protect. Like fabric repeatedly folded the same way, it begins to hold familiar creases. These changes are intelligent, protective responses shaped by survival, even when they persist long after the original danger has passed.

Research helped clarify why this happens. Helene Langevin demonstrated that fascia responds to mechanical input and hydration, showing that gentle, sustained touch can influence its structure, much like warm wax can then be reshaped. Carla Stecco’s anatomical mapping revealed the continuity and precision of fascial planes, helping us understand why pain often follows predictable pathways rather than remaining in a single isolated spot. Robert Schleip’s work highlighted fascia’s role as a sensory organ, deeply involved in proprioception and autonomic regulation, explaining why changes in fascia can influence how safe, grounded, or connected a person feels.

Within the Body Artisan approach, this science feels less mechanical and more poetic. Working with fascia is like learning the language of a living landscape. Touch becomes a conversation rather than a command. Pressure is an invitation, not a demand. When safety is present, fascia responds the way frozen ground responds to spring, slowly thawing, rehydrating, and allowing movement where there was once rigidity. Breath deepens, awareness settles, and patterns that felt permanent begin to loosen.

Seeing fascia for what it truly is invites both humility and wonder. The body is not a machine padded with filler. It is a living system of extraordinary intelligence, where structure, sensation, and emotion are woven together like threads in a tapestry. Fascia is one of the primary fibers holding that tapestry intact, carrying both strength and memory.

When we honor this, healing shifts from fixing something broken to supporting something profoundly wise. Given the right conditions, the body does not need to be forced to change. It already knows how to soften, adapt, and return toward balance. Our role is to listen, to support, and to trust the design that has been there all along.

12/02/2025

Migraines

Migraines are not simply headaches. They are storms that rise from the deepest architecture of the nervous system, electrical, vascular, and emotional, all at once. To the person inside the storm, it can feel as though the world is tightening, pulsing, and collapsing inward. To the outside eye, nothing appears different. This is the quiet cruelty of migraines, and the reason our hands, presence, and understanding matter so profoundly.

Inside the skull, the brain behaves like the weather. A wave of electrical activity known as cortical spreading depression can sweep across the surface like lightning rolling across a horizon. Blood vessels constrict and swell in response. The trigeminovascular system, which links the dura and cranial vessels to the trigeminal nerve, begins to send alarms. The brainstem, keeper of light and sound, nausea and pain perception, becomes exquisitely sensitive. None of this is imagined. It is biology in motion.

There is so much living beneath the surface of this work that it deserves to be explored slowly, layer by layer. So let us begin with one of the quiet places where the body hides its truths.

At the base of the skull lies a place where the body whispers its oldest stories. A small, hidden meeting point where deep muscles touch the dura mater, the membrane that cradles the brain and spinal cord. This quiet connection is called the myodural bridge, and though it is often overlooked, it shapes the way a person carries their head, their thoughts, their protection, and their pain.

Anatomically, the myodural bridge links the suboccipital muscles to the dura. These muscles are tiny, intricate, and sensitive to even the slightest shifts in posture or emotion. The dura, by contrast, is a vast sheath of protective tissue rich with nerves that respond instantly to tension. Together, they form a living conduit between the musculoskeletal world and the central nervous system. When the neck stiffens, the dura feels it. When the dura tenses, the whole head responds.

For many clients, this is where headaches are born. It is where migraines gather like storms. It is where the body braces against stress without conscious permission. Long hours of screen work, unresolved emotional load, old whiplash injuries, shallow breathing patterns, and chronic sympathetic activation all feed tension into this tiny meeting place. The result is a pressure that is both muscular and neurological, both structural and emotional.

This is why, when bodyworkers place their hands beneath the head, something profound can happen. Suboccipital release does more than soften the muscles. It eases the pull on the dura itself, giving the membranes around the brain a moment of relief. Gentle traction at the occiput invites space into the cranial base, allowing cerebrospinal fluid a smoother rhythm. Craniosacral holds can soften the bracing reflex around the brainstem, creating an opening where the nervous system can finally breathe.

Clients often describe the shift as a warmth spreading behind their eyes or a slow release deep inside the skull. Some feel their breath drop into their body for the first time that day. Others experience a quiet emotional unbinding, as if the mind has been gripping something too tightly for too long. These moments are not accidents. They are the result of easing a structure that sits at the crossroads of sensation, pressure, memory, and protection.

The myodural bridge is not just a piece of anatomy. It is a translator between the spine and the brain, a tension bridge between past and present, a sentinel that reacts to our stress long before we can name it. When it is softened with skill and intention, the entire system recalibrates. The head lightens. The neck lengthens. The nervous system steps back from the edge.

As Body Artisans, this is one of the most sacred places we touch. Here, beneath our palms, the physical and emotional selves meet. Here, the body reveals how it has been holding the world. Here, a new story can begin to unfold.

When the myodural bridge softens, the whole person softens with it. The head finally exhales. The spine listens. And the nervous system remembers what ease feels like again.

12/01/2025

For my friends and family w fibromyalgia ❤️‍🩹

The Quiet Symphony of Fibromyalgia and Myofascial Pain

Fibromyalgia and myofascial pain syndrome often arrive in the body like two quiet storms. They move through tissue, sensation, and the nervous system in ways that are deeply physical yet profoundly invisible. To the outside world, these clients may look “fine,” but inside, the body is whispering its overwhelm with every breath, every step, every night of unrefreshing sleep.

Science tells us that fibromyalgia is not a flaw of strength or willpower. It is a shift in how the nervous system processes sensation. The volume dial in the spinal cord and brain becomes turned too high, a phenomenon known as central sensitization. Functional MRI studies show that even gentle pressure lights up pain-processing centers more intensely than in neurotypical bodies. Some clients also show small-fiber neuropathy, tiny peripheral nerves within fascia and skin firing more rapidly or inconsistently than they should. The result is a body that becomes hyper-attuned to touch, temperature, movement, and emotion. A body that reads too much, too fast, with too little recovery.

Myofascial pain syndrome, meanwhile, often begins within the tissue itself. Taut bands, trigger points, and oxygen-deprived fascial pockets become tight, guarded, and overly reactive. These areas send constellations of referred pain across the body. Chemical changes within trigger points alter pH, blood flow, and nerve firing. And when enough of these regions stay active for long enough, the nervous system becomes overwhelmed as well, and the entire picture begins to resemble fibromyalgia.

This is why so many clients drift between labels. Why their symptoms do not fit neatly into a single box. In truth, these conditions share pathways, amplify one another, and often coexist in the same tender, exhausted system.

For bodyworkers, this means our work is not about chasing knots. It is about tending to an ecosystem. Every stroke we offer becomes a message to a sensitized nervous system: “You are safe. You can soften. You do not have to guard everything.” Slow, broad contact helps soothe Ruffini endings. Gentle myofascial spreading reduces local nociception. Craniosacral holds, diaphragmatic softening, and vagus-aware techniques help invite a shift from sympathetic vigilance to parasympathetic rest. Even oscillation or subtle traction can bring clarity back to tissues that feel thick, congested, or disorganized.

Many clients with these diagnoses also carry autonomic dysregulation. Their heart rate fluctuates. They may overheat or freeze easily. Their digestion slows. Their sleep collapses into fragments. The body hovers between fight, flight, and collapse because it is tired of trying to keep up. This is where your steady presence matters. Predictable rhythm, grounding touch, warm draping, weighted bolsters, dimmer lighting—each becomes a lifeline that signals to the brain that it can quiet the internal alarms.

And then there is the emotional piece. People with fibromyalgia and myofascial pain have been dismissed more than nearly any other group. Their pain is real, yet they are often told it is “just stress,” “just hormones,” “just anxiety.” When we listen without minimizing, when we name their symptoms with accuracy and compassion, we are already helping the nervous system unwind. Safety is biochemical. Validation is an intervention.

Think of it this way: fascia is the instrument, the nervous system is the soundboard, and the brain is the composer trying to interpret the music of a life that has been too loud for too long. These conditions do not mean the body is broken. They mean the orchestra needs gentler acoustics and a different kind of conductor.

As bodyworkers, we do not force harmony. We offer resonance. We help retune what has become dissonant. We create a space where pain can soften enough for the person beneath it to breathe again.

And little by little, with steady hands and a nervous system that knows how to hold another, the body begins to remember its music.

12/01/2025

Beautifully expressed

Starlight in Human Form: The Field That Connects Us All

Every human being carries a measurable field around them, a quiet halo of electricity shaped by the heart, the nervous system, and the living fabric of fascia. This is not mystical thinking. It is physics. The heart’s electromagnetic field radiates several feet beyond the body and shifts with emotion, becoming smooth and coherent during gratitude or peace, and jagged during stress or fear. The people around you feel these shifts even if they cannot name them. We are not just bodies moving through space. We are signals moving through each other.

The fascia beneath your skin behaves like a liquid-crystalline network. When it is pressed or stretched, it generates electrical currents, just as a quartz crystal generates charge under pressure. This is called piezoelectricity. It means your body is constantly transmitting tiny electrical whispers through its tissues. When you are anxious, the fascia contracts and the signals become erratic. When you feel safe, the tissue softens and communication improves. This is the scientific foundation of what many people describe as “energy.”

Your nervous system responds to the emotional weather around you. Mirror neurons fire in response to the expressions and movements of others, allowing your brain to copy their internal state. The vagus nerve tracks micro-shifts in voice tone, breath, posture, and tension. You do not choose to synchronize with people. You are built to do so. Just like birds in murmuration or trees connected through mycelium, humans are wired to share information through subtle channels that lie below conscious awareness.

Even your cells emit light. This is one of the most extraordinary discoveries in biophysics. Every cell produces tiny pulses of photons called biophotons, and the amount of light changes based on your emotional and physiological state. Stress increases this cellular glow in sharp, chaotic bursts. Calm creates soft coherence. In other words, the body literally shines differently depending on how you feel.

This is why tools like copper dousing rods respond to emotions. They are not detecting magic. They are responding to fundamental shifts in muscle tone, electrical charge, and electromagnetic flow. When you feel sadness or fear, your field contracts just like fascia tightens under threat. When joy or hope returns, the field expands, and the rods spread apart. Your inner world has a physical footprint.

Think of yourself as a tuning fork. When someone near you is calm, your nervous system vibrates toward that calm. When someone is angry or distressed, your system picks up that vibration as well. Your body is constantly adjusting itself to the signals around it. The science of this is clear. The metaphor is simple. We shape each other.

This is why presence matters. Your emotional state is not contained within your skin. It enters the room before you speak. It influences the physiology of the people you love and the strangers who sit beside you. You leave a trail of coherence or chaos everywhere you go.

In the healing arts, this understanding changes everything. When we regulate our own nervous system, the client’s system begins to follow. When we breathe slowly, their breath deepens. When our fascia is fluid, theirs begins to unwind. When our electromagnetic field is coherent, theirs begins to reorganize.

There is nothing mystical about this. It is simply the science of being human. We are electrical creatures living in a shared field of influence. We are always communicating, even in silence. We are always shaping the world inside and around us.

The more we understand these truths, the more compassion we can hold for ourselves and each other. After all, every emotion you feel becomes part of the environment we share. Every breath you take quietly alters the world.

You are not small.
You are resonance.
You are signal.
You are a living field of light in motion.

11/19/2025

Fascia contains them all

How many of you remember studying receptors in massage school? If not, here's a crash course. (Mechanoreceptors will be a later post.)

When bodyworkers understand essential receptors, touch can become more intentional, attuned, and far more powerful. Three important sensory systems for hands-on work are proprioception, nociception, and interoception, all of which are richly represented within the fascial network.

Proprioceptors are the body’s sense of place. They tell us where we are in space, how we move, how deeply we bend, and how our joints align without ever having to look. Proprioceptors play a crucial role in creating graceful movement and maintaining stable posture, and they are intricately woven into the fascia. When fascia is stiff, dehydrated, or restricted, proprioception becomes foggy. Clients may feel clumsy, ungrounded, or disconnected from their bodies. When fascia slides freely, proprioception sharpens. Movement becomes fluid, and clients feel more at home in themselves.

Nociceptors are the body’s danger signals. They alert the system when something feels threatening, irritating, or potentially harmful. These receptors do not just convey pain; they convey context. They tell the brain when tissue is overstretched, inflamed, or overly tense. Many nociceptors are embedded in fascial tissues, which explains why fascial restriction can heighten sensitivity or contribute to chronic discomfort even without structural damage. When fascia softens and glides, nociceptors calm.

Interoceptors are the quiet storytellers of the internal world. They tell us how we feel on the inside. Hunger, fullness, breath, pressure, warmth, emotion, intuition, and the subtle sense of safety or threat all come from interoception. These receptors are found throughout the fascial layers, especially in the visceral fascia. Interoception is the doorway through which emotion becomes sensation and sensation becomes awareness. When fascial tension decreases, interoception becomes clearer. Clients often describe this as feeling more present, more connected, or more alive.

Recent research has shown that fascia is not just connective tissue. It is one of the most densely innervated sensory systems in the entire body. In fact, fascia contains more sensory nerve endings than muscles, far more than tendons, and even more diverse sensory fibers than joints.

Researchers like Schleip, Langevin, Stecco, and Wilke have shown that fascia is not a passive wrapping. It behaves like a sensory organ, sending constant information to the brain about tension, breath, pressure, emotion, and safety.

03/25/2024

A great personal and professional perspective from Dr. Ginevra, MD on the value of MFR for helping people suffering from fibromyalgia.

The most effective treatment for fibromyalgia pain is myofascial release, which is a manual therapy focused on breaking up fascial adhesions that cause pain...

02/10/2023

Interesting study confirming JFBarnes sustained release MFR increases blood flow to thoacolumbar fascia.

“ The MFR group received an MFR treatment protocol that included four previously described techniques [4,39,40,41], as follows: (1) Sustained manual pressure to the lateral raphe (Figure 2a), performed with the therapist’s fingertips 1–4. (2) Lateral stretching of the TLF (Figure 2b), performed with the therapist’s hands. (3) Longitudinal glide along the lumbar paravertebral muscles (Figure 2c), performed with the therapist’s open fist. (4) Longitudinal stretch of the TLF (Figure 2d), performed with the therapist’s hands. (5) Unilateral longitudinal stretch of the TLF (Figure 2e), performed with the therapist’s hands.”

JCM | Free Full-Text | Immediate Effects of Myofascial Release Treatment on Lumbar Microcirculation: A Randomized, Placebo-Controlled Trial

(1) Background: Inflammatory processes in the thoracolumbar fascia (TLF) lead to thickening, compaction, and fibrosis and are thought to contribute to the development of nonspecific low back pain (nLBP). The blood flow (BF) of fascial tissue may play a critical role in this process, as it may promot...

07/30/2022

Hello all, CoreNature is moving! To 960 Harris Ave, Ste 203. A beautiful, peaceful space in Fairhaven, with temperature control (😉), excellent sound proofing, and ADA accessibility. Doors will open when I restart in September. Here's a photo from our recent trek in the Dolomites.

04/30/2022

Here's a really great article about research on aging. Our attitudes and beliefs matter! Let us celebrate our gifts that come with age, and keep on moving!

Science shows the key to aging gracefully is all in your head, a new book reveals.