The Holistic Massage

by Francis Power (editor)
Image Magazine - December 1999

On a wet Saturday afternoon with a bad dose of flu, I crawled reluctantly down the steps to the basement that houses Harvest Moon, a sourcing centre for alternative therapies.

Slick, blonde woods and clinical white walls are not their style, instead rooms are cheerily painted in purples, greens and oranges which I suspect reflect the colours associated with the chakra centres. A large, well warmed room, filled with candles, crystals and the obligatory nature soundtrack, awaited me.

All business like, therapist Peter Kane asked me to remove my clothes - now being naked in front of a stranger makes one feel vulnerable at the best of times but when the masseur is male…. Seeing my look of horror, Peter relented. Knickers on, I lay down under pre heated towels on the massage table and any embarrassment soon disappeared as he applied what seemed like an ocean of massage oil with essential oils patchouli and ylang ylang and began work.

Starting on the back of the legs, he pummelled, stroked, kneaded and chopped, working hard to detox and distress. He uses an adaptation of Swedish massage, working muscles rather than energy or "chi", but tailoring movements and focus to each client's needs. Soon the ocean had been soaked up and he applied more to work buttocks, back, neck and shoulders before turning me over and tackling feet, front of legs, arms and stomach. Refreshingly silent, he let me slip into a state of semi-coma until about two hours later, I raised myself weakly to thank him for what was the best massage I've ever had. I'd like to say that the flu was cured, but no. A glass of apple juice and an admonition to take it easy and drink lots of water and I was back outside blinking and feeling almost airborne on a busy Saturday afternoon, but what a different day it seemed when all the stress and tension were eased away...