Craniosacral & Myofascial Release Techniques | Real Talk FAQs

The world of craniosacral therapy techniques is vast, nuanced, and often wildly misunderstood. While most folks lump it into the “light-touch woo-woo” category, it actually stems from serious roots in osteopathic manipulative treatments.

Craniosacral therapy techniques come in many flavors, but their roots trace back to cranial osteopathy, a branch of osteopathic philosophy developed in the early 1900s by William Garner Sutherland. From this foundation, a whole family of practices has grown: you’ll hear about Upledger craniosacral therapy, biodynamic craniosacral, craniosacral massage, and Core Synchronism, Ortho bionomy, to name a few.

These approaches fall under the broader umbrella of osteopathic manipulative treatments, and they all aim to support the body’s ability to self-heal by working with the rhythms and restrictions of the craniosacral system. Craniosacral therapy is more than just skull bones and sacral rhythms—it’s about restoring freedom and flow through the central nervous system, fascia, and subtle energetic structures.

I’ve spent almost 3 decades studying a wide array of craniosacral techniques—from Upledger CranioSacral Therapy, which opened the door for non-osteopaths to access this work, Core Synchronism, which blends cranial work and polarity therapy, to more osteopathic-inspired approaches developed by my mentors, Curtis Turchin and my Canadian trained mentor, who developed her own style after she studied and taught at three different schools of osteopathy in Canada.

But let me be real with you: I’m not a puppet repeating protocols. I’ve evolved my own cranial approach through thousands of hours on the table, both giving and receiving. My work is ever-evolving—rooted in the traditions but not confined by them. I use my hands, my intuition, and my decades of experience to listen deeply to the body and help it unwind the stories it’s holding. Some of those stories are physical. Some are emotional. And some are ancient.

One of the biggest upgrades in my own practice has been integrating fascia—yep, those winding rivers of connective tissue that hold everything together. Thanks to the brilliant mapwork of Anatomy Trains Tom Myers, we now understand that tension and trauma don't just sit still—they travel along interconnected fascial highways. That means your jaw tension might be rooted in a pelvic twist, or your migraines might be tied to scar tissue in your ankle.

So, I’ve woven fascial lines into my cranial work, helping unravel deeper layers that most light-touch methods don’t even come close to touching. My latest obsession? Fascia techniques inspired by the Human Garage approach—bringing a whole new level of movement, depth, and structural reintegration to the table. Human Garage fascia work is gaining attention for its focus on full-body unwinding and release. These tools have supercharged my sessions, helping free what’s stuck and bring the body back into flow.

The truth is, I’m not following a formula. I’m in constant dialogue with the body—asking, listening, responding. This isn’t a modality. It’s a relationship. It’s also a personal evolution.

Craniosacral therapy isn’t just a technique for me—it’s a living conversation with the body. And after all these years, it still teaches me something new.

Let me start by saying this: your body remembers everything. Every fender bender, every bad fall, every time you slept crooked or tweaked something at the gym—it’s all still in there. And over time, your body compensates. It adapts. It folds in on itself like a crumpled piece of paper shoved in a back pocket. That adaptation can cause long-term restriction, pain, and dysfunction...even if the original injury was decades ago.

Craniosacral therapy works by helping the body remember how to move again. Through precise, hands-on assessment, we feel into subtle rhythms—especially the craniosacral rhythm, which is the gentle ebb and flow of cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) circulating through your brain and spinal cord. It’s like the tides of your nervous system, and when something’s off? We can feel it.

Sometimes the bones aren’t gliding well. Sometimes the fascia is locked down. Sometimes the craniosacral rhythm is weak, jagged, or stuck altogether. The job of a skilled therapist is to meet the body where it’s at—sometimes with a whisper of a touch, sometimes with deeper, more anchored pressure—to invite those locked-up places to start moving again. Slowly. Safely. And on the body’s terms.

The goal isn’t just to fix something—it’s to help the whole system reorganize. Over time, with repetition, your body builds new patterns of movement and regulation. It reclaims mobility it didn’t think was possible. And you, dear human, get to feel more like yourself again.

So if you’re wondering how craniosacral therapy works—this is it. We’re working with subtle movement, deep listening, and honoring the natural intelligence of the body to unwind trauma and restore ease. It’s quiet work. But don’t confuse quiet for passive. This work runs deep.

Jaw pain is a beast. If you've ever struggled with TMJ dysfunction (aka Temporomandibular Joint issues), you know how sneaky and exhausting it can be. It’s not just the jaw—it’s the headaches, the neck tension, the wonky bite, and that dull ache that makes eating (or even sleeping) miserable.

A lot of TMJ issues can trace back to head trauma, dental procedures (especially wisdom tooth extractions), grinding, clenching, or chronic stress patterns stuck in the nervous system. And because the jaw is such a tightly wound network of bone, muscle, and fascia, it often gets overlooked or misunderstood by conventional care.

This is where craniosacral therapy for TMJ steps in with quiet precision. Using intraoral techniques (yes, with gloved hands gently working inside the mouth), we can access and release tension in the deeper muscles of the jaw—masseter, temporalis, and pterygoids—and restore fluidity to the bones and tissues that surround them.

When you increase range of motion in the jaw and release restrictions in the surrounding cranial bones, the whole system starts to exhale. It’s like giving the jaw permission to stop gripping so tightly and start moving like it was designed to.

And here’s the magic: sometimes, relieving TMJ pain isn’t just about the jaw. It’s about the whole craniosacral system learning how to move again in harmony. Which means fewer headaches, better sleep, easier chewing—and a much happier nervous system overall.

Let’s get real—fascia repair isn’t about fixing something broken like a car part. It’s about unwinding what’s been wound too tight for too long. Imagine your connective tissue (fascia) like spider silk woven through your whole body—holding muscles, bones, and organs in a tensioned, responsive matrix.

But over time—thanks to injury, trauma, poor posture, repetitive movements, and even stress—those silky threads get tangled. Stuck. Clumpy. Dry. You might feel it as stiffness at the base of your skull, tight hips, or that knot you swear lives permanently between your shoulder blades.

Fascia repair is the slow, sustainable process of restoring glide, hydration, and mobility to this fascial web.

It’s not about blasting the body with a percussive myofascial massager (though they have their place)—it’s about steady, intelligent input that cues the fascia to reorganize itself. This might include:

• Gentle, sustained pressure from a myofascial specialist

• Targeted self-release techniques that hydrate and soften sticky fascia

• Movements that mimic how your body wants to move (your cat stretching is onto something)

• Breathwork and nervous system reset to support deep tissue change

The benefits of fascia repair? More space. More freedom. Less pain. More access to your own energy and movement potential.

It’s not a quick fix, and it shouldn’t be. You got here slowly, layer by layer—your fascia repair journey should respect that. Think slow burn, not quick hack. And yes, you can still go to work, pick up the kids, and live your life while your tissues quietly unwind in the background.

Because real fascia healing? It’s subtle, cellular, and deeply life-changing.

People often ask me, What’s the difference between craniosacral therapy and chiropractic care? Great question—and one that deserves more than a shrug and a spine crack.

Let’s break it down.

Chiropractic care tends to focus on structural alignment through more forceful adjustments. You know the drill: a quick twist, a loud crack, and that moment where your spine sounds like popcorn. And for some people, that kind of reset really works. But it’s not for everyone—especially those with chronic pain, sensitive nervous systems, or complex trauma patterns stored in the tissues.

Craniosacral therapy, on the other hand, operates in an entirely different gear. Think of it as the ninja art of subtlety. We work with the body’s internal rhythms—especially the craniosacral rhythm, which flows with the pulse of cerebrospinal fluid around the brain and spinal cord. Through ultra-refined touch and a range of craniosacral techniques, we support the body in unwinding stuck patterns from the inside out, often without a single crack or jolt.

Where chiropractic aims to reposition bones, craniosacral therapy aims to invite the nervous system to reorganize itself.

Sometimes, it’s not about forcing change—it’s about listening so deeply that the body decides to let go on its own. And that’s where the real magic happens.

Let’s just say this: if your nervous system had a chill out button, craniosacral therapy would be it.

The benefits of craniosacral therapy go way beyond just “relaxation”—although yes, it’s deeply relaxing (I’ve had clients fall asleep mid-session and swear they woke up feeling like they time-traveled to a better version of themselves).

Here’s what this work can actually do:

• Relieve stress and tension that have been baked into your system for years—especially the kind your body has forgotten how to let go of.

• Calm your nervous system in a way that helps you shift out of survival mode and into healing mode (hello, parasympathetic reset).

• Ease chronic pain rooted in immobility, postural dysfunction, and old injuries—without needing to “push through it” or force anything.

• Address fascial tension, headaches, and TMJ issues by restoring natural movement to the cranial bones (yes, your skull actually has joints).

• And most powerfully? It helps your whole system realign—because when the bones of your skull move more freely, your entire body (muscles, organs, fascia and all) gets the memo.

Whether you're dealing with migraines, mystery tension, trauma, or just feel like something's off, craniosacral therapy benefits go far beyond the table. It’s subtle, deep, and wildly effective. No cracking required.

Myofascial massage is like the bodywork equivalent of ironing out the wrinkles in your suit—while you're still wearing it. It's subtle, slow, and powerful work that targets fascia—the body’s unsung hero and often-overlooked connective tissue that wraps around everything: muscles, bones, organs, nerves, you name it.

When fascia gets tight, tangled, or glued down from injury, trauma, or just the grind of modern life, it limits your range of motion and can trigger chronic pain or stiffness. You might feel like you're walking around in a wetsuit two sizes too small.

Myofascial release techniques evolved out of osteopathic manipulative treatments and are designed to gently persuade the fascia to let go—not by brute force, but through deep listening, sustained pressure, and precision touch. This is slow, patient work that cues your body to unwind from the inside out.

Unlike traditional massage, which focuses mainly on muscle tissue, myofascial massage techniques go deeper—targeting the body’s structural holding patterns, restoring circulation, and bringing back a sense of internal spaciousness and flow. When done right, it’s not just a physical release—it can be profoundly emotional and energetic, too.

In my practice, I integrate myofascial release into craniosacral sessions and draw inspiration from emerging models like Human Garage fascia work, which emphasize full-body unwinding and realignment. These tools help unlock tension patterns stuck deep in the system—often ones you didn’t even know were there.

Craniosacral therapy for stroke recovery isn’t just about calming the nervous system—it’s about reawakening it.

After a stroke, the brain has to reroute and rewire. That’s a massive job. And while conventional rehab often focuses on muscle strength and speech, what gets missed is that the brain itself—its lobes, its inner structures, even its rhythm—can get locked up and disoriented from the trauma. It’s like the GPS of the nervous system got scrambled, and no one’s giving it a recalibration.

That’s where craniosacral therapy comes in.

By working gently with the cranium, spine, and fascia—and yes, even the deeper lobes of the brain—craniosacral can help restore clarity, alignment, and flow. I’ve had the profound honor of working with many stroke survivors over the years, and the shift can be stunning: more presence, better coordination, a return of sensation, and a subtle but unmistakable sense of "I’m back".

This isn’t just about moving cranial bones. It’s about supporting the brain’s plasticity—its ability to adapt and rebuild—by giving it the space and signals it needs to find its way home.

And no, you don’t have to wait months post-stroke to start. The sooner, the better. Gentle craniosacral therapy can be safely integrated early in recovery to support the brain-body connection as it finds its footing again.

If you or a loved one has had a stroke, this work could be the missing piece no one’s talking about—but should be.

I’ve had so many concussions in my life, I joke that my brain and skull know each other a little too well.

You know that feeling when you hit your funny bone and everything goes electric and weird? Imagine that, but it’s your brain. That’s what a concussion feels like to me—like your brain has slammed into the inside of your skull, and nothing quite lands the same after.

I often describe it like this: your skull is the shell of a walnut, and your brain is the meat inside. Now picture that walnut getting hit with a car door or a baseball bat. That soft, intricate tissue gets jostled, bruised, and thrown out of alignment. And no one teaches you how to bring it back.

That’s why craniosacral therapy for concussion recovery is some of my favorite and most sacred works. Not only did it help me reclaim my own brain after multiple traumatic blows, but I’ve seen it help so many clients feel like themselves again—sometimes for the first time in years.

This therapy isn’t just about adjusting bones. It’s about gently tracking and encouraging micromovements within the brain itself—releasing pressure, restoring flow, and listening deeply to how the inner terrain has shifted post-injury. Each lobe of the brain has its own story after trauma. I listen for that. I work with it.

And when things start to reorganize—when someone’s headaches ease, their light sensitivity drops, or they tell me they finally slept through the night after months of post-concussion fog—that’s the magic.

You don’t have to “just live with it.” There’s another way. And it’s gentle, grounded, and deeply effective.

I used to have a good time surprising people with how quickly we could pull them out of a migraine.

I mean, let’s be real—migraines aren’t just “bad headaches.” They’re full-body shutdowns. Lights off, sound off, no one breathe too loud. And for folks who get them every day? It’s like living in a minefield.

Craniosacral therapy has been one of my favorite ways to help people crawl out of that nightmare—and in some cases, we’ve seen major relief in just one session.

One of my clients came to me with migraines every single day. Through consistent craniosacral work and custom trigger point homework she did at home, we brought her body back into balance. And eventually, her daily migraines stopped. Gone.

I’ve even had clients help me map the specific trigger points that spark their migraines—so they can go home and treat them between sessions. Then we go in cranially to release restrictions in the skull, unwind the fascia, and get the brain and cranial bones moving like they’re meant to.

Because here’s the truth:

Your brain and head bones are not supposed to be stuck.

Your fascia isn’t supposed to be gripping for dear life. And your nervous system isn’t meant to be in fight-or-flight 24/7.

That’s where craniosacral therapy shines. It’s not just about chasing pain; it’s about getting to the root of it—why it’s happening, where it’s locked up, and how to help your body let go of the pattern for good.

You don’t need to suffer endlessly. Your body can remember how to live without pain.

And I’m here to help you get there.

(And How Did That Lead to Craniosacral Therapy Techniques?)

Let’s set the record straight. The founder of osteopathy was Dr. Andrew Taylor Still (1828–1917), a Civil War surgeon who had the audacity to call bluff on the bloody, drug-happy medicine of his day. We’re talking mercury pills, arsenic tonics, and good old-fashioned bloodletting. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t helping.

Dr. Still believed the body had an innate ability to heal—if the bones, tissues, and fluids were moving properly. He officially coined the term Osteopathy in 1885, founding a new approach that treated the whole person through osteopathic manipulative treatments (OMT), proper nutrition, and structural balance. His osteopathic philosophy was radical for the time: the idea that structure governs function, and that if you free up restrictions in the body, healing will follow.

But then came the oddball genius who would change everything…

Enter William Garner Sutherland and the Birth of Cranial Osteopathy

Sutherland, an osteopath trained in Still’s lineage, wasn’t trying to create something new—he was trying to disprove the crazy idea that skull bones moved.

What did he do? He built a metal helmet and screwed it down onto his own head, trying to prove the cranial bones were fused. (I mean, who does that?) Instead of disproving the theory, he nearly knocked himself out. And in the haze that followed, he felt something shift—a wave, a tide—flowing from his skull down to his sacrum.

That was the beginning of cranial osteopathy, a system of working with the craniosacral rhythm, the subtle pulse of cerebrospinal fluid and the movement of the cranial bones. He experimented (on himself, his wife, and his patients) for decades, eventually creating what we now know as cranial osteopathic manipulative treatments.

But make no mistake—the osteopathic establishment rejected him for years. Cranial work wasn’t even taught in most osteopathic schools until the 1970s.

From Secret Handshakes to Open Hands:

How Craniosacral Work Reached the Rest of Us

Here’s the part no one talks about.

Osteopathy was a boys’ club. Literal little black books full of secret techniques. If you weren’t a male MD/DO, you didn’t get access. Not massage therapists, not PTs, not even female practitioners.

That changed when another osteopath, Dr. John Upledger (1932–2012), entered the picture. While assisting during spinal surgery, he noticed a rhythmic pulsing in the dura mater that no one could explain. He spent the next several years researching it, eventually breaking rank and publishing what he observed.

And here's the kicker: the old boys didn’t take him seriously. So he went rogue.

Upledger opened the door to CranioSacral Therapy for the rest of us: massage therapists, naturopaths, speech pathologists, physical therapists, dentists—practitioners with hands on people, not just prescription pads. He passed on the ten-finger legacy that had been locked behind medical school doors for almost a century.

The Modern Field: Wild, Weird, and Wonderfully Effective

Today, the world of craniosacral therapy has blossomed into many branches. You've got:

• Biodynamic Craniosacral – slow, meditative, and deeply attuned to the body's natural rhythms

• Core Synchronism – blending cranial and Polarity principles

• Ortho-Bionomy – a gentle, osteopathically-inspired system for unwinding neuromuscular patterns

• …and a growing movement of massage therapists and manual therapists bringing craniosacral massage to a wider public.

But no matter the flavor, it all traces back to osteopathy’s original premise: the body heals best when it’s free to move.

Why This Matters

In a medical system that now churns out prescriptions faster than it offers presence, hands-on osteopathy is being lost. In many places—including my very crunchy, woo-friendly town—true "10-finger osteopaths" are nearly extinct. The kind who lay hands on you. Who listen with touch. Who work with your body’s intelligence—not against it.

So if you’ve been told craniosacral therapy is “just massage,” or that it has no roots in medical history—think again. This work has a lineage. A legacy. A long and rebellious journey from backroom black books to healing tables across the world.

And if you find a practitioner who carries that legacy with integrity,

you’re in good hands.

Let’s just get this out of the way: babies fall all the time. They roll, bonk, face-plant, somersault off couches, and whack their heads on coffee tables trying to crawl under them. And unless there’s blood or screaming, most adults give a quick kiss and a “you’re okay!” and carry on.

But here’s the hard truth: those little head injuries? They matter. They don’t just disappear. They imprint into the nervous system and the fascia and the cranial bones—and they can show up later as migraines, anxiety, mimicking ADHD, sensory issues, even autoimmune stuff.

That’s why infant craniosacral therapy isn’t a luxury. It’s foundational care. It’s gentle, non-invasive, and babies LOVE it.

Babies Are Receptive by Design

The bones in a baby’s skull are designed to move—especially around the fontanel (that famous soft spot). That movement allows for brain growth and cranial rhythm, but it also means that the bones can get jammed or compressed way too easily:

• During birth (especially with forceps, vacuum extraction, or C-section)

• From falls and bumps (even “mild” ones)

• From chronic tension (like colic, tongue ties, or latch issues)

Craniosacral therapy for babies works with that innate mobility. We’re not forcing anything—we’re listening, following, guiding the body back into balance. Babies don’t hold onto patterns like adults do. They’re malleable. They’re responsive. They’re ready.

The Soothing Magic of Cranial Work for Kids

Working with babies and children is one of my deepest joys. I sing to them, I tell fairytales, I make it playful—because healing should feel good. And babies? They know. They’re little truth-tellers. They can feel when their system is unwinding. They relax. They coo. They fall asleep in my hands.

Here’s the kicker: most of the people I treat for chronic pain, migraines, and trauma in adulthood? They had head injuries as children.

Not one. Not two. Dozens.

Basically everyone. And no one ever addressed it.

If more parents understood that craniosacral therapy for infants could prevent decades of suffering, my office would be overflowing with toddlers and newborns instead of grownups trying to undo forty years of unaddressed impact.

Parents, This Is Your Call to Action

Yes, you’re sleep-deprived. Yes, parenting is overwhelming. But that little bump your baby took last week? That birth that was just a bit longer than expected? That constant turning of the head to one side?

It all adds up.

And craniosacral therapy can help reset it—gently, safely, and with zero side effects.

Your baby doesn’t need a diagnosis to benefit from care. They just need a chance to land fully and comfortably in their body.

If you’re curious, reach out. I’ll hold your little one with the same reverence and precision I wish someone had offered me when I ran headfirst into a moving swingset at age three—my first concussion, my first scar, and the moment that left a dent in both, my skull and my life.

Fascial sheaths aren’t just local—they run head to toe, from your forehead down your spine, wrapping your legs, ankles, and even the soles of your feet. So when your face tightens up—whether from head trauma, dental work, plastic surgery, or good ol' stress—it can tug on your whole body like a twisted bedsheet.

Craniosacral fascial therapy works with this network, gently releasing the deep tensions locked into the tissue—especially in the face and jaw, where trauma hides behind smiles. I’ve worked on everything from facelift scars pulling like piano wire, to football players with bashed-in noses, to a woman thrown from a car as a baby whose facial scar tissue felt a like stone.

When we release facial adhesions and restore flow, the whole system unwinds—migraines lessen, breathing opens, and people say they finally feel like themselves again.

Most folks have no idea how much tension they're holding in their face. But I do. And I know how to get it moving again.

Short answer? Usually not. Most craniosacral therapy is classified under massage or alternative bodywork, which means insurance won’t touch it—unless you have an HSA (Health Savings Account) or FSA (Flexible Spending Account) that lets you pay for out-of-network, holistic care.

You can see a Doctor of Osteopathy (DO) for cranial work, and that’s usually covered. But here’s the catch: very few osteopaths still do hands-on treatment. Many now practice like standard MDs—writing prescriptions instead of using their hands to actually feel and fix what’s going on. If you're seeking osteopathic cranial work, ask if they actually do manual manipulation before you book.

The hard truth is this: our medical system isn’t built around prevention or true healing. It’s built around symptom management and profitability. Craniosacral work is subtle, precise, and deeply transformative—but because it doesn’t come in a pill or show up on an MRI, insurance companies won’t pay for it.

But for those who’ve tried everything else and are still in pain, it’s often the one thing that finally helps.

“Just because it’s not covered doesn’t mean it’s not essential.”

Technically? No. Unlike osteopaths (DOs), who must hold a medical license, craniosacral therapy can legally be practiced by massage therapists, bodyworkers, or other practitioners depending on their state regulations. That means anyone who’s taken a weekend workshop can call themselves a craniosacral therapist.

But should they?

Craniosacral therapy is a subtle, deep, and highly skilled art. It takes years—decades, really—of hands-on experience, anatomical study, and real-world application to do it well. I’ve been practicing cranial work for almost three decades. This isn’t a side gig or an add-on for me.

It’s one of the core pillars of my work.

And here’s the thing no one talks about: different people respond to different modalities. One client might need cranial with a little more pounds per pressure to get something moving, another needs fascia work, another might need homeopathy.

Having a wide scope of experience matters.

Because healing isn’t one-size-fits-all—and your practitioner shouldn't be either.

So yes, you can legally practice craniosacral therapy without a license.

But the better question is: How long have they been practicing?

How deep is their training?

And are they any good?

Your brain deserves more than someone who just learned where the occiput is last Saturday.

Pregnancy and birth are no joke—for mom or baby. Even in the most peaceful deliveries, it’s common for the baby’s head to get compressed against the mother’s pelvis or birth canal. And with interventions like vacuum extraction or forceps birth, that compression can be severe. Many of the adults I work with today are still living with the structural consequences of birth injuries that happened 30, 40, even 50 years ago.

So why wait?

The youngest baby I ever worked on was 11 days old—she was struggling to breathe. One session. I worked cranially, helped her lungs expand, and the issue resolved. She’s in her 20s now and still sees me from time to time.

Another baby I treated was born into the foster system. Her mother had been using heroin and the infant was being weaned off methadone—twitching, crying, inconsolable, having seizure-like symptoms. I drained her lymph, released her little cranial bones, and helped reset her system. By the time we were done, the seizures had stopped and she looked like a completely different child.

The younger the child, the faster they respond. They don’t have layers of emotional baggage or years of poor posture to work through. They’re malleable, open, and ready. Babies are actually easier to treat than adults—and the results are profound.

This is essential structural and neurological care.

If every parent understood the impact birth has on a baby’s head, neck, and nervous system, craniosacral therapy wouldn’t be optional—it would be standard care.

Let’s get something straight: there are far greater dangers in our modern healthcare system than a practitioner placing gentle, skilled hands on your head.

Craniosacral therapy is safe for everyone—from 11-day-old babies to hospice patients and everyone in between. It’s calming to the nervous system, non-invasive, and deeply restorative. It works through light touch—no cracking, no drugs, no invasive procedures.

So what’s actually dangerous?

Let’s talk about the 250,000+ people who die every year in the U.S. from iatrogenic illness—a clinical term for “we did this to you.” Medical errors, hospital-acquired infections, drug reactions, and unnecessary procedures are considered the third leading cause of death in this country.

Let’s talk about the clients I’ve seen on twenty different medications. Or the ones sent to endless rounds of PT where no one even touched their head—despite a clear head injury.

And yet someone wants to raise an eyebrow over the supposed “risks” of cranial work? Please.

If you have a broken bone, go to the ER. If you’ve got a severed finger, this is not the place.

But if your nervous system is fried, your head’s been slammed one too many times, or your newborn is struggling to breathe…

craniosacral therapy might be the safest and smartest thing you can do.

The Human Garage isn’t just another wellness trend—it’s a fascia-first movement that started in Venice Beach, California, where a team of hands-on bodyworkers, including co-founder Garry Lineham, were helping Olympic athletes and high-performers unravel deeply stored tension and trauma through fascia release. They called their clinical space a fascia garage—a place where you get your body realigned, re-lubed, and ready to move like a kid again.

When COVID hit and the clinic closed, Garry had to get creative. Stuck in pain with no access to his team, he reverse-engineered their hands-on techniques and invented a DIY version of the fascia garage—movements you could do in your living room with the cat judging from the couch. This birthed the now-viral Human Garage self-reset system.

Some of the signature methods include:

• Human Garage Totally Twisted sequences (standing, seated, or lying down), designed to unwind the spiral fascia lines through gentle, multidirectional movement.

• The Anti Gravity Human Garage protocol, which decompresses the spine and opens the superficial back fascia line.

• The legendary Belly Button Torque Human Garage, a visceral release technique to reset your core, restore gut mobility, and help regulate your vagus nerve.

• And even stress-reset routines (hello, Stress Reset Human Garage) that use breath and subtle movement to rewire your nervous system fascia-first.

I got to take a live workshop with Garry Lineham and feel the results firsthand. He described the method as returning to your original design—how a baby moves before layers of trauma and compensation patterns take over. When I touched his arms and legs, they really did feel baby-soft: fluid, elastic, tension-free. That’s the goal—undo the gridlock, reboot the system, and restore innate mobility.

While I don’t follow The Human Garage teachings by the book, I’ve studied their programs, trained in their fascia release tools (including Markula), and work weekly with one of their advanced practitioners. What I do now is a hybrid: part craniosacral, part Human Garage fascia work, myofacial therapy and osteopathic-like.

Whether I’m supporting someone with Human Garage neck pain strategies or improvising a twist on a core reset, the fascia-first philosophy remains. And trust me—when fascia flows, everything changes.

Fascia is having a moment—and not just in wellness circles. It’s the new frontier in bodywork, and for good reason. This connective tissue is everywhere, and when it gets stuck, you feel it: stiff back, tight jaw, frozen shoulder, mystery hip pain, nervous system wired like a squirrel on espresso. Enter myofascial release.

Working with a myofascial specialist (yep, not just your foam roller) can help identify the deeper fascial restrictions that no stretch or deep tissue massage ever seems to touch. It’s like finding that one knot in a necklace that’s jamming up everything else—and learning how to gently, steadily undo it.

And while the internet is full of gadgets promising miracle cures (like the myofascial massager tool that is looking at you from under the bed now collecting dust), the truth is: tools are only as good if you know how to apply and use them regularly. Effective fascia work is slow, strategic, and responsive.

Here are some real benefits of myofascial release:

• Long-term fascia repair — not just symptom chasing

• Improved range of motion and fluid movement

• Relief from chronic pain patterns

• Downregulation of the nervous system (aka stress relief that sticks)

• Better postural alignment without force or cracking

• Emotional release. "Your issues are in your tissues".

My favorite approach? A combo of guided sessions with a myofascial specialist and daily, low-key homework: a little self fascia massage, a few slow spirals, some anti-gravity unwinding—stuff your cat would approve of.

Real fascia repair takes time, intention, and patience. When your body finally exhales, you’ll know it was worth every slow, melty second.