The Saw

An unexpected revelation came to me one day while browsing through the tool section of a popular home improvement store (real tools, real store).

Almost lost among the many specialty saws hung a thing I had never seen before. It was similar in size and shape to a standard utility or combination saw, except that its handle had been moved to the narrow end of the blade, shifting the weight of the saw from the hand to the cutting surface.

Even more curious were the teeth of this saw, pointing the "wrong" way. In essence, it was a backward saw... so, I had to check this baby out.

Pulling it down from the wall, I observed the dusty few behind. The one in my hands was smudged as if it had been examined and returned several times. The tag read, "Japanese Saw," and claimed it could make smoother, more accurate cuts with less effort. Although I was working on a wood project at the time and the concept appealed to me, I decided to leave the new toy behind (hard for a guy to do) and go about my business. There are lots of gadgets that get used once and wind up on the junk pile.

Back at the shop, I needed to round off some pointy corners on a wooden table frame. It was frustrating how often my conventional saw would jam when guiding its blade into the narrow cutting area. Before I had seen that Japanese saw, it hadn't occurred to me it was ridiculous to expect a thin, flexible blade of metal to remain under control when pushed into a shallow groove. The genius of the strange "new" tool began to make sense.

I didn't want to drive back for something I might not need again, so I decided to try an experiment with my old saw. Donning some leather work gloves, I grabbed it by the narrow end of the blade, and laid the heavier handle end into the target groove of my work. The saw would cut on the back stroke, so I pushed effortlessly into my workpiece, with no resistance from the inward pointing teeth. When I drew back, the tension on the blade kept it from jamming, as I continued to move cleanly down the cut with uncanny, chatter-free precision. The sound was smoother, and I felt more balanced physically. I didn't need to apply pressure - the saw did it for me. The improvised tool worked!

Quickly finishing the task, I paused to reflect on how someone on the other side of the world had simplified a difficult cutting chore long ago. The news must have traveled slowly. Judging by the display at the home improvement store, it appeared that no one was even interested. I myself was embarrassed by an innovation so obvious, somebody should have thought of it before all these other saws were made. But the memory of wasted effort could now slip quietly away, as if it had never happened. I felt the weight lift from my shoulders. Old problem solved... by an older solution.

Enlightenment comes in many forms at unexpected times, and this was that kind of epiphany, an unscheduled turn from the road map of life into the world of Alice's looking glass.

Was this really so important?

Looking back, I wonder how often our best ways of doing things were only the best we knew at the time, which, though often taught and repeated, turned out to be an illusion in the light of another point of view. Lots of times, I think. Didn't we forget the old ways and move on, as if waking from a dream?

Here's why it's important: No matter how well I do any one thing, someone somewhere is doing it better, and I may never know how - just as millions of handymen around the world continue to use forward-cutting saws - unless I keep my eyes and mind open to the unusual.

Sometimes, it's not how much information or how often we store it that makes us "smart," but whether we can shake off familiar ways of thinking. After all, nothing can be improved without change, and nobody has a lock on innovation.

That's why next time, I'm using my electric saw.

Why Pacific Ocean?

Here in sunny Florida, a finger of land thrust between the swirling waters of the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico, at our new location nestled between Tampa Bay and beautiful Lake Tarpon, we were a bit surprised to find the names "Pacific" and "Ocean" already taken by massage establishments. Luckily, the combination of the two was not.

That is the real reason for the name: I wanted Pacific, my business partner wanted Ocean, we couldn't have either, so we took both.

Simple enough, but after reading this far, you deserve a more interesting explanation...

Since we adopted the name, new meanings have begun to unfold, and the Pacific Ocean has become the ideal metaphor for an important mission: to join the best of Eastern and Western massage techniques in one harmonious effort, under one roof.

You'd think this would be easy...

As it turns out, the world of therapeutic massage, like the rest of our war-torn planet, is divided into camps.

While there are dozens of recognized methods of massage and body work (i.e. "modalities"), and some therapists are tempted to collect them all, it is not unusual (or surprising) to find that many in this business believe their favorite method is the only effective one to use.

And I thought I had left office politics behind when I went to massage school...

Recently, I read an ad in a respected industry journal, posted by an organization that believes "old ways" and the "new" ways it represents cannot be mixed, and should be separately regulated and certified. I was not surprised but somewhat disappointed by the ad, and found it ironic the acronym for their organization resembles the name applied to a form of medical massage popular in China thousands of years ago that is still widely practiced and taught. I wondered at the time if they knew their new ways would become old when they are eventually improved. At least this group takes itself seriously, I thought. They should extend that courtesy to the giants upon whose shoulders they now stand.

Massage is such a mechanically fundamental act, that almost every effective technique in use today has been borrowed or appropriated from an older system, re-labeled as "new" to suit a xenophobic medical culture and packaged to make somebody a buck. Demonstrate something "new," and it can be unmasked as little more than new jargon of exclusivity.

Today, as more of us turn to alternative forms of health care, it's safe to say that we've had enough of professional snobbery and segregation, and it's time to call a truce.

Think back about 40 years ago, when members of the powerful medical community circulated literature branding the fledgling chiropractic industry as quackery. Admittedly, horror stories abound of alternative health care gone wrong, but we need only mention a few names of once popular drugs and surgical procedures to give the critics pause. Sometimes, the new ways aren't so good, and it's safer to stick with a longer track record.

Yet, after years of experimental success and failure, there is plenty of blame to spread around...

We know that in any case of disease, pain, and suffering, when one human being attempts to intervene on behalf of another, there are risks and benefits, both long and short term. This is true despite our best intentions or preparations, and we would do well to learn why.

We all want to base our methods on evidence, but the time and money to confirm every method, by exploring every pertinent variable, is not there. Should we then be left only to "proven" therapies that can potentially generate the most cash? Those are the methods for which the most evidence will be produced.

It should be (and is) up to individuals to determine what form of therapy harmonizes best with their bodies, beliefs, and comfort, because health care always works best when patients "buy in" to the form of care delivered to them, a variable not always measured in blind trials, and perhaps not even measurable in every case or culture. Such credibility is a delicate commodity that should be respected, especially by those who seek to promote another point of view, because they may some day face similar resistance. It is not in the nature of humankind to welcome every invasive or fashionable procedure that comes along without a fight.

The massage industry is once again in that tender phase, when many recognize its value to health and well-being, but some (insurance companies, for example) aren't sure and may not pay for it. The number of people who do, however, is a testimony to its effectiveness, and a call for its legitimacy and equal standing in the pantheon of medical care. After all, massage was at one time the only form of health care available.

Have a few thousand years erased its healing power? Hold onto your answer for a moment, and ask yourself another question... Have a few thousand years really changed our bodies that much?

The Pacific Ocean is the world's largest geographic feature, the glue joining the East with the West, and is large enough to cradle them both. Once a barrier between widely divergent cultures, it is now a vital conduit of trade and adventure whose vast embrace of the largest and most powerful countries on the globe gently beckons their several shores afar, to discover the same watery blanket protects them all.

The Mighty Pacific: may it continue to live in peace, inspire us to accept the passage of time, and remind us that Ferdinand Magellan named this body of water for these very things before his attempt to circumnavigate a fragmented world eventually killed him. That's right - he died trying.

Was I supposed to leave that part out?

Not a chance, because it serves as caution of risks in any venture, no matter how worthy the ship, or how noble the cause. And we mustn't forget- Ferd's crew sailed on to finish the job!

As Pacific Ocean Massage Therapy embarks on its voyage of understanding, extending the olive branch to warring camps on the high seas of theory and practice, caution will be the watchword. Nevertheless, I plan to continue my quest for common ground, even if I die trying, even if someone else has to finish the job.