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If you missed the beginning, or want a refresher, scroll down, or click here.  We’re just going to continue where we left off.

One more year went by and I continued to wander.  I not only continued with the shamanism, but I got into herbalism, and I’d gone to a gong bath, and a biodynamic therapist, and a Chinese five element healer, and a qi healer.  I loved them all (well, except for maybe the gong bath; that wasn’t my thing), but I still couldn’t picture myself as any of these practitioners.  They were too weird.  Or they sang a lot (I don’t sing unless I’m alone).  Or they were super silent and subtle.  Or they wore horrible clothes.  For one reason or another, none of them struck a chord.  And as I was hiking with my friend, Ruthie, we’re discussing this.  I said that I’d like to continue on this journey of self-discovery and healing, but I’m looking to try something new.  And Ruthie, being the genius she is, mentions the Rolf Institute.  “You know it’s in Boulder, right?  And you can get sessions from a student for super cheap as part of the student training.”

Huh?  How had I missed the fact that the Rolf Institute was in Boulder while I lived there for 4 1/2 years?  No, I didn’t know.  But I was still nervous, you know, with the whole pain thing.  But I said, “Well, I’ll do it, if you do.”  I’d tried so many things by now, I figured it couldn’t be worse than getting whacked with crone’s wort (yeah, that happened).  So Ruthie calls me the next day, after she’s called the Rolf Institute to see when their next clinic is.  “They had 2 spots left in the clinic that starts next week.”  Well, this looks like a sign for the universe, so I say, “you told ‘em we’d take ‘em, right?”  And again, Ruthie’s wisdom won out, so she says, “of course!”  And on a Tuesday evening, she and I head up to Boulder for our “orientation.”  We go into this office building complex out in Gunbarrel and sit in rows of chairs arranged in a semi-circle.

After a brief introduction by a bubbly 20-something, the lead instructor for the class gets up to talk.  He’s not wearing shoes.  Who doesn’t wear shoes when they’re talking in front of a 30 strangers!?  Ray McCall, that’s who.  Rolfer and SourcePoint Therapist extraordinaire.  But I don’t know this yet.  All I know is that he says something along the lines of, “People always ask me if Rolfing’s going to help their shoulder, or their knee, or if it’s going to make them taller.  And I don’t know.  I can’t tell you if Rolfing’s going to help any of those things.  What I can tell you is that Rolfing will make you more you.”  And I was hooked.  That’s all I needed.  I hadn’t even met my student Rolfer.  I didn’t care.  I wanted to be more me.  I wanted everyone else to be more them.  I thought that was the way to achieve world peace.  Truth be told, I still think that.

And at the same time, my logical, physicist brain was saying, “Slow the f*@k down, Theresa!  Give it a try before you go doing anything crazy.”   So two days later I showed up for my first session of the 10-series.  I can’t remember if my Rolfer worked on my right side or my left first, but when she was done with that first side she asked me to take a breathe and compare the difference side to side.  It was magical!  I felt like one lung was 4 times the size of the other!  I felt like everyone in the room was probably laughing at me because I looked so funny and unbalanced with one side all inflated and one side all flat and lifeless.  I felt like I couldn’t wait for her to do the other side!  And, I was still waiting for that dreaded pain I’d been expecting.  Needless to say, I loved Rolfing.  And I now wanted to be a Rolfer.  One session in.  I told myself to wait until the end of the 10-series before making any rash, life-changing decisions.

The second session was better than the first.  My Rolfer worked on my feet and lower legs and while it was a little intense, I’d had worse pain from massages.  Then, I sat up and put my feet on the floor, and the strangest thing happened.  I looked down and got really confused.  Those weren’t my feet there below my legs.  No really.  I knew what my feet looked like and those weren’t my feet.  Strange.  And when I stood up…oh wow.  I felt so…stable.  Not that I’d felt wobbly before.  But comparatively, I might as well have been walking on stilts, blindfolded before this.  I felt like I could stand for days and walk for miles and miles and miles.  I just felt so strong and stable and balanced and grounded.  This was it.  This was what I’d been looking for all those years.  It was like the clouds parted and the sun shone down and the angels started singing and playing their harps while birds were chirping in the background.  Once again, I reminded myself not to do anything drastic before finishing the 10-series.

I made it to the 7th session before I walked in the admissions counselor’s office and asked, “what do I need to do to come to school here?”  (Convenient that it was just around the corner from my Rolfer’s “office,” eh?)  She told me that the next introductory class they had was full, but that she’d put me on the list for the class starting in 4 months.  She gave me the application material and told me to get it back to her when I had a chance.  The next day I got a phone call from said admissions counselor, “Hey Theresa, I’m calling because we just had someone drop out of the class that starts next month.  Do you want that spot?”  I hesitated for about 4 nanoseconds before practically screaming at the poor woman, “YES!”  We managed to finish out the conversation and I got off the phone.  Then, I clearly remember jumping around my kitchen and yelling and jumping some more.  Then more yelling and more jumping.  Then calling some friends and not understanding why they weren’t yelling and jumping with me (they would’ve, but they were at work).

I was gonna be a Rolfer!!!!

And the rest is pretty boring, I guess.  I went to class.  On the first day, we sat in a circle and introduced ourselves and for the first time in my life I felt like I was really home.  This was my family.  I had to get up at 5:30 every morning for class (at the time my regular hour of waking was 11am) and I woke up every morning with a smile because I got to go learn more about Rolfing.  I studied and did homework and practiced on anyone who would let me.  I went to lots more class.  I practiced a bunch more.  And slowly, but surely, I became a Rolfer.  On April 30, 2010, I graduated as a Certified Rolfer from the Rolf Institute of Structural Integration.  I was crying and smiling and crying and smiling some more.  It was incredibly difficult and at the same time the most natural thing in the world.  I never for one second doubted that I was on the right path.  Finally.

So that’s it.  That’s how it happened.  Now you know.

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  1. [...] back in May about how I became a Rolfer.  In fact, I wrote so damn much about it, that it took up two posts.  And now, I’m telling the same old story, again, this time on video.  Really, if you [...]

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