11/24/2025
Yes!! Fascial stretching is indeed a profound recalibration.
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Riding the Fascial Wave
There are moments during a session when the work stops feeling like technique and becomes more like a moving meditation. My hands follow the breath, and the tissues respond in waves. The whole room exhales as if guided by an invisible tide. What happens on the table begins to resemble the ancient rhythm of Qi Gong, a gentle dance between intention and surrender, a quiet conversation between two bodies finding their way into the same current.
Qi Gong is rooted in the belief that life moves in cycles of expansion and contraction. A rise and a fall. A gathering and a releasing. Myofascial Flow mirrors this exactly. As the hands glide, melt, anchor, and pull, the fascia responds with its own internal choreography. Collagen fibers unravel. Ground substance warms and becomes more fluid. Mechanoreceptors awaken and begin sending ripples of information through the nervous system. What looks like simple movement becomes a profound recalibration.
There is science woven through this poetry. Slow, intentional movement activates the parasympathetic nervous system, allowing muscles to lengthen without resistance. Oscillation and spiraling motions stimulate Pacinian and Ruffini receptors, sending calming signals through the vagus nerve. Long, fluid strokes help reorganize collagen fibers and restore glide in the fascial layers. Breath-led movement increases nitric oxide, a natural vasodilator that enhances circulation and helps tissues soften from the inside out.
When we combine these elements on the table, we create an experience where the body does not feel forced into change. It is invited. Encouraged. Guided. Fascia responds far more deeply to coaxing than to command, just as qi responds more readily to intention than to effort. The practitioner becomes a conduit for rhythm, and the client’s body recognizes the pattern, relaxing into the familiar hum of movement and breath.
There is a profound ease that happens when these worlds meet. Together they create a practice that is both grounding and expansive, both earthly and ethereal. This is why my work often resembles a slow dance. There is push and pull, ebb and flow, rising and sinking. My hands follow the same principles that Qi Gong masters have practiced for thousands of years, even as my understanding is rooted in mechanotransduction, tissue viscosity, and neural pacing: different languages, different traditions, the same truth.
