Clients

When Pain and Worry Feed Each Other

You spent the weekend gardening—digging, lifting, weeding, and enjoying getting things done. The next morning, your back hurts.

Perhaps you strained a muscle. But as you try to get out of bed, you begin to worry. Have I really injured myself? Will I be able to work tomorrow? How will I take care of the kids?

Now you have pain and worry. Your body becomes more tense and alert. The pain feels stronger, which seems to confirm your fear that something is seriously wrong. That brings more worry, which can further amplify the pain.

A cycle has begun.

Pain responds to more than injury

Pain is influenced by what is happening in our tissues, but also by our emotions, our circumstances, and how safe or threatened we feel. Stress, fear, anger, sadness, and grief can increase the intensity of pain. Pain, in turn, can make those feelings harder to manage.

Perhaps you’ve just had a fight with someone you love. You’re going through a divorce or dealing with a difficult work environment. Or you’re struggling with the pressures of our stressful world. Those challenges can add to the distress you’re already experiencing about your sore back.

All the situations above, including our back pain itself, activate the sympathetic nervous system—our “fight or flight” system. We become more alert and ready to respond to a threat, regardless of the size or reality of that threat. Pain can become more intense. That increased pain can then fuel further alarm.

It is easy to interpret stronger pain as evidence of a more serious injury. But pain is a protective experience, rather than a precise measure of tissue damage. More pain does not necessarily mean more damage.

Interrupting the cycle

Recognizing this relationship gives us another way to respond. Along with caring for the physical injury, we can address the worry and stress that may be turning up the volume on our pain.

One useful step is getting the injury assessed by a healthcare professional. Understanding what is injured, how serious it is, and what activities are appropriate can help replace uncertainty with a plan. 

We can also explore familiar ways of settling ourselves. You might find comfort in gently rocking in a rocking chair. A short, comfortable walk may help, if walking is appropriate for your injury. Watching a comedy show might give you a welcome break from monitoring every sensation.

Slow breathing, listening to music, talking with someone supportive, getting a Zero Balancing or massage session, or any stress management practice you already enjoy may also help you feel more settled. You are regulating your nervous system and bringing it into better balance. Relaxation can help interrupt the cycle of pain leading to stress leading to more pain.

There is no requirement to make yourself cheerful or stop feeling grief or anger. The question is simply: What might help me feel a little more supported and less alarmed right now?

Healing and feeling better

An injured muscle or joint needs time and appropriate care to heal. Reducing worry does not replace that process. But we may be able to ease some of our pain while healing is underway.

The pain is real. Understanding what can amplify it gives us more ways to care for ourselves—and more opportunities to interrupt the cycle.

Clients

More of You Available to You

What do we mean when we talk about energy in Zero Balancing?

You may have heard the word chi, often described as life energy. Energy isn’t something separate from us. It is our vitality, our being, the essence of who we are. When we talk about Zero Balancing releasing held energy, helping it to move more freely, we are talking about making more of ourselves available to us.

From a Zero Balancing perspective, energy can become stuck in bone. It can also remain held in the form of a past experience. In either case, that part of ourselves is less available for living our lives now.

A ball of yarn offers a way to picture this.

Do you still need that sweater?

Imagine a ball of yarn knitted into a sweater. The yarn is still there, but it is committed to a particular form. You can wear the sweater, but you can’t use that same yarn to make something else.

Perhaps you really needed that sweater at some point in your past. It kept you warm through a long, cold winter. It served you well.

But what if your circumstances have changed? You may no longer need it. You might need something quite different. Yet the yarn remains committed to being a sweater, whether that sweater presently serves you or not.

Something similar can happen with our energy. In Zero Balancing, energy is everything about us that is unseen, which includes our thoughts, our conditioning, our memories, our understanding of ourselves. A past experience may have affected us deeply and the energetic effects remain held in our tissues. That same experience may have required us to respond in a particular way. Our response may have been useful—even essential—at the time. But some of our energy can remain held in that form long after the experience has passed. 

We have changed. Our lives have changed. Yet that part of us is still bound up in something from the past.

Returning to possibility

One way to understand the work of Zero Balancing is through the image of unraveling that sweater.

As energy held in bone or in an old pattern is released, it becomes available again. The sweater returns to a ball of yarn. We can use it for whatever we want or need now.

We might knit a different sweater. We might make something entirely new. The value lies in having the choice.

This image also helps explain why we don’t necessarily need to identify or talk through a past experience during a ZB session. The practitioner works through touch, attending to where energy is held and inviting its release. The focus is on freeing that energy, making it more available to you.

The aim is to have fuller access to who we are—so we can bring more of ourselves to our relationships, our interests, our decisions, and the ordinary pleasures of daily life. We become more embodied, more self-actualized. 

What might become possible if you had more of your own yarn to work with?

Practitioners

Tuning In to the Field

When giving a Zero Balancing session, we have a myriad of choices about where to place our attention. Often, we focus on energy held in bone. We can also bring our attention to the person’s entire field, assessing its organization or coherence, and how it may change during the session. 

How might you recognize changes in your client’s field during a ZB session? What do you notice that tells you the field is becoming more coherent? And how do you recognize a field that is disorganized?

We have several opportunities within the protocol to explore these questions. Much of our information comes from paying attention to what we feel, observing how each person’s field presents, and comparing our observations at different points in the same session or across consecutive sessions. 

Notice what changes

A natural starting point is as you move down the tibias at the beginning of the session. Pay attention to the quality of the field as you go. If you repeat this at the end of the session, you have another chance to compare. What feels different? 

Another opportunity comes with the initial and final Half Moon Vectors (HMVs) of the protocol. Bring your attention to the quality of the client’s field. When you return for the closing HMV, observe what has shifted.

Don’t try to identify what you feel. Simply recognize the differences. Because we know that the field at the end of the session is more balanced than at the beginning, we can begin to discern the ways in which increased balance shows up. 

Organized vs disorganized

A disorganized field has a signature. One of the first times I noticed this was when, while coming down the tibias of a client, it felt like everything was going every which way. My first thought was “everybody’s running around in there.” The sensation in my hands felt disorganized. I found I could tune in to that sensation throughout the session. As the session progressed, that same sensation decreased. What I noticed was not more organization but less disorganization…and therefore more organization.  

Explore coherence

I use the term coherence to describe how well a person’s field holds itself together. Does it have substance? Can it hold onto the chi that’s released during a fulcrum? As energy is released during a fulcrum, notice what happens to it. Does it remain available or does it disappear? I once gave a session in which the energy released from every fulcrum seemed to go into nothingness. I recall a colleague describing a client’s field as feeling like wet tissue paper. If a field lacks coherence, it feels like it has holes or doesn’t hang together. 

I often get a sense of coherence during the Bubblegum Fulcrum or the fulcrum that moves the field through the hip, both of which are taught in Geometry of Healing. Each of these fulcrums offers a chance to feel the substance of the field directly, allowing us to sense if it possesses enough integrity for us to hold and move.

When the field may be harder to sense

In both of these explorations, if the energy is very contracted it may be difficult to tune into the field. There’s not enough energy available to get the information.

Sometimes our attention has simply been elsewhere. We may be concentrating on positioning, evaluating, or giving fulcrums. Our focus may be on connecting or on the quality of our touch. So it may be several sessions before we even notice the field. Trust that you are attending to the most important thing for that client that day. 

In your next session, try including the field more consciously in your awareness. Choose one of the options mentioned above and explore it. It will open the door to more ways to be of service to your clients. In our next newsletter, we’ll explore ways to build organization and coherence in the field. 

Practitioners

What Is Presence? 

I’ve been thinking about presence lately. We talk about the importance of being present when giving a Zero Balancing session. But what does that actually mean? What goes into being present? And what might get in the way? Let’s have a think about presence together over a glass of wine or a cup of tea.

Some of my thoughts about this began during a recent Argentine Tango lesson.

In Argentine Tango, there is no set pattern of steps. The leader, in this case my male teacher, can lead any step at any time, and the lead can come from any part of his body—in addition to his hands he might use his thigh, his foot, or the way he shapes his entire body. As the follower, I need to tune in with my whole body and be ready to respond without anticipating what may be coming next. In other words, I need to be fully present in each moment. 

In this lesson, when I placed my attention on listening with my whole body, something unexpected happened. I became fully present. Understand, I thought I had been present all along. But this time I was even more present. I discovered a protective barrier I didn’t know was there. That was the first surprise: stumbling upon this hidden obstacle to presence.  

The next surprise was that I felt some fear and consequently the desire to retreat to what felt like a safer distance. This despite knowing my teacher well and trusting him implicitly. He is unfailingly kind, encouraging and non-judgmental. Yet I still felt a little exposed. I wondered: What was it in me that led to my feeling less safe? And I had a choice to make. Retreat to the familiar or remain present and fold my feeling of fear into my experience. I chose the latter. 

My reward for this small bit of courage was huge. Reading his lead was much easier. I was more with him. It elevated the whole experience. I was fully immersed and in the flow with him and the music. It was really fun!

I recognized this body-felt sense, this signature, of being less present. It was quite familiar. And I could recall giving ZB sessions with this same body-felt sense. Again, I’m quite present when I give a ZB session. Yet, based on my experience in Tango, I must have more presence available, right? That recognition gave me something to wonder about. My own continuum of presence was greater than I thought. How might this discovery change my ZB sessions? If I experienced that same sense of fear, could I stay present with both my fear and my client? And where might we go together as a result?

Join me in pondering these questions: 

Can you define presence? Is it easier to define not being present? 

What is the relationship between presence, safety, and connection? 

How do you recognize whether you are present? What are your feedback signals or signatures? 

What senses do you use to determine your level of presence? 

Are you aware of maintaining a safe distance? 

Which feels more familiar to you, feeling more present or relatively less present? 

Have you experienced thinking you were present and discovering the potential for more? What did you discover about yourself as a result? 

Have you discovered any obstacles that prevent you from being present? 

What emotions arise when you are more present? 

Have you experienced similar situations, in which your assessment of your situation is safe, yet you still feel somewhat unsafe? If yes, what might be happening?

Where are you on your own continuum of presence? 

If you could increase your presence, how might it change your ZB sessions? 

I hope this is a fruitful exploration for you! 

Practitioners

ZB Spotlight: Working with Highly Sensitive Clients

Have you ever worked with a client who is very sensitive? On a continuum from “feels very little” to “feels every little thing” a highly sensitive client would be placed on the “feels every little thing” side. Working with highly sensitive clients invites a concentration of attention and skill. It requires a deep awareness and embodiment of Zero Balancing principles on the part of the practitioner, especially Interface and High Regard.

Before the session

Working with highly sensitive clients requires careful listening to understand both their experiences and how their structure and energy are organized around those experiences. Some clients will openly identify their sensitivity, while others may not be as self-aware. Clients might describe strong reactions to touch or other sensory stimuli, feeling easily overwhelmed, or having a heightened awareness of their internal or external environment. It’s not uncommon for a client to request adjustments in lighting, sound, or scent in your office. There may be a history of trauma that has shaped both their nervous system and their energetic nature. 

Watch for working signs during intake and framing. You may notice hesitation, a need for reassurance, or a desire to have their experience validated. Some clients need a sense of control over what may happen. Others may appear overly agreeable, even when uncomfortable. You may also notice a mismatch between what they say and what their body or facial expression communicates.

On our part, focus on High Regard is essential and may require increased self-awareness. Notice your thoughts during the session. Do you find yourself questioning their report? Thinking they are overly sensitive? Resenting their request or instructions to alter your office environment? These are important signals. If High Regard slips, you may unintentionally mirror the ways their experience has been dismissed elsewhere.

During the Session

Be curious. Observe how this individual is living in their body and how they respond.

Pay close attention to how their field is organized and contained. It’s especially common to find the lack of a container. You may feel your fulcrums going into nothingness. 

Do not assume that sensitive clients need a light or more energetic touch. Use the first few sessions to calibrate the ratio of structure to energy in your work. If tolerated, short, structural sessions with lots of compression often both feel better and work better. 

Pay particular attention to staying at Interface. While there are any number of things we can choose to pay attention to during a session, extra focus on Interface with every fulcrum can be extraordinarily helpful with highly sensitive clients, especially during the first few sessions. It gives them an experience of their edges, their own boundaries, and the ability to manage some of the unwanted stimuli assaulting their senses. 

Highly sensitive clients may be more likely to disconnect during a session. Allowing this disconnection is a missed opportunity. Zero Balancing can feel so very good. Using the verbal fulcrum “feel how good it feels” amplifies a real-time, positive experience of being in their body.

After the Session

Watch closely for signs that the session was too long or too energetic. If a client is ungrounded or spacy when they get off the table, adjust your next session accordingly. Fewer fulcrums, faster pace, more structure, all can help the client stay more connected with themselves. 

As Zero Balancing practitioners, we can offer highly sensitive clients therapeutic bodywork sessions in which they feel safe, seen, met, and accepted for who they are. The healing potential is massive. ZB offers them the opportunity to navigate this often harsh world with more ease. 

Practitioners

What Exactly Is Highest Personal Regard?

Holding ourselves and others with Highest Personal Regard is a core principle in Zero Balancing. We emphasize this principle in all our courses and ideally embody it in our interactions with colleagues and clients. But what is Highest Personal Regard exactly? And is it truly possible to maintain this perspective toward ourselves and others at all times? Let’s have a cup of tea or a glass of wine together and talk about it!

The Core Zero Balancing Study Guide 5th Edition defines Highest Personal Regard as “holding another person in high esteem without judgement or comparison.” 

So we might start our inquiry with defining “high esteem” and “without judgement or comparison.” 

What is high esteem? 

What does it mean to hold someone without judgement?

What if someone is behaving badly? 

Does the term “behaving badly” imply judgement? 

Are there actions that can be universally defined as bad that don’t involve judgement? 

What does it mean to hold someone without comparison?

With what might we be comparing them? Other people? Standards of behavior?

Over the years, like so many of us in the Zero Balancing community, I’ve strived to embody the principle of Highest Personal Regard, living the practice with my students, clients, colleagues, family and friends. It’s the way I approach meeting anyone new. It’s the way I’d like to be approached. My Highest Personal Regard is theirs to lose. 

Repeating that last sentence: my Highest Personal Regard is theirs to lose. Can one lose this? Are there times when it’s not possible to hold someone with Highest Personal Regard, without judgement or comparison as it’s described in the Core ZB Study Guide? 

What if someone hurts you? What if someone is intentionally aggressive and seeks to cause harm to you or others? Are they deserving of high regard? 

Considering the realities of everyday life, additional questions arise. 

Does everyone deserve high regard?  

Can you hold someone in high regard if you don’t like them? If yes, how did you accomplish it? 

Can a person lose your high regard? If so, can they get it back?

Here’s another scenario…If your intent is to hold someone with high regard, but your instinct, your donkey, is sending out warning signals this might be an unsafe person, which should hold sway? Do you ignore your instinct in favor of the idea of high regard? Is high regard the same as trusting someone? Can one exist without the other?

Lastly, turning the focus to ourselves…

Is holding yourself with the Highest Personal Regard easy? Difficult? Both?

Can you lose your own high regard for yourself? 

I hope you find this process of investigation worthwhile!  Let me know your thoughts!

Clients

Interface: Applying Zero Balancing Principles to Everyday Life

Part of the power of a Zero Balancing session lies in the quality of touch used by the practitioner. At the heart of this bodywork system is a deceptively simple yet powerful idea: clear boundaries create safety. This concept extends beautifully into everyday life, offering a practical way to navigate relationships, decision-making, and personal well-being with greater clarity and ease. [Read more]

In the context of working with energy through touch, most bodywork modalities train touch in specific ways. Zero Balancing practitioners use Interface—clearly touch that maintains the boundary between practitioner and client at all times. The practitioner meets the client fully, but does not merge with them.

Interface is the place where two things meet without losing their individuality. Through touch, it is experienced as precise and clearly defined contact. There is no ambiguity about where one person ends and the other begins.

Interface allows for connection without collapse—like two musicians playing in harmony while still holding their own parts.

Paradoxically, it is this clarity that allows for deeper connection. When boundaries are clear, the body can relax. The nervous system does not have to guard. There is a sense of safety in knowing that you are fully met, without being intruded upon or merged with.

In this way, the boundary itself becomes the pathway to connection.

This principle extends far beyond the treatment table.

Many of us tend to “blend” in our daily lives—especially in relationships. We soften or even dissolve our boundaries in order to connect, to be understood, or to maintain what feels like an open heart. Boundaries can be misunderstood as walls or barriers to closeness.

Yet without clear boundaries, the line between yourself and another can become blurred. It may become difficult to distinguish whose emotions or motivations you are experiencing.

The familiar phrase “I’ve lost myself” often reflects this kind of over-merging.

In contrast, living at Interface means staying connected while remaining anchored in yourself. It shows up as a clear, simple knowing: This is mine. That is yours.

Like a fence between two properties, Interface creates structure. It defines where you end and another begins—not to separate, but to support a more authentic and sustainable connection.

From this place, something shifts. Connection no longer requires losing yourself. Instead, it becomes something you can enter into and move within, while staying grounded in who you are.

This doesn’t mean there is no place for softness or openness. Rather, it means that connection is supported by clarity, not confusion.

A simple way to begin working with Interface in your own life is through self-inquiry:

  • Where might I be losing my sense of myself in this situation?
  • What would help me feel more clear and grounded right now?

These questions are not about pulling away—they are about returning to yourself so that connection can be more real.

Applying the principle of Interface to everyday life is not about perfection. It’s about awareness. It’s noticing when boundaries feel unclear and gently re-establishing them.

Over time, this awareness builds resilience, strengthens relationships, and deepens your connection to yourself. By learning to value clear boundaries—not as barriers, but as the very foundation of connection—we begin to experience a deeper sense of ease, presence, and authenticity in how we relate to ourselves and others.

Clients

Simplify Self-Care: Learn to Listen to Your Body

Self-care is a phrase we hear everywhere these days. We know it’s something that would be good for us to do more of. And it often involves adding something to our days—new routines, better habits, more discipline. But for many of us, especially if we are feeling overwhelmed or in pain, self-care can feel like just one more thing to manage. 

What if self-care isn’t something you have to do more of, but something you can do more simply?

Actually, self-care is not about effort. It’s about attention.

Your body is constantly communicating with you. It lets you know when something feels right, when something feels off, when you need rest, support, movement, or stillness. The challenge is not that the body is silent—it’s that we’ve learned to either ignore it or bargain with it. 

Many of us spend our days moving quickly from one task to the next overriding fatigue, ignoring tension, or pushing through discomfort. By disconnecting from our bodies, we can keep moving. As a result, we stop noticing the early, subtle messages and only pay attention when something becomes too loud to ignore—pain, stress, exhaustion.

Simple self-care begins with rebuilding connection.

Listening to your body doesn’t require special equipment or long stretches of time. It starts with small moments of awareness. Is your breath shallow or deep? Are your shoulders lifted or relaxed? Are your feet connected with the floor?  

These are not dramatic practices. They are quiet and ordinary. Their power lies in bringing you back into relationship with your body.

When you begin to listen, you may notice patterns. Perhaps you hold tension in your neck when you’re concentrating. Perhaps your breathing becomes restricted when you feel rushed. Perhaps you feel more settled when you take a moment to pause between activities. These observations are not things to judge or fix immediately—they are information.

And from that information, change can happen naturally.

Instead of forcing yourself into a self-care routine, you begin to respond to what your body is already asking for. You might take a few slower breaths before starting the next task. You might adjust how you’re sitting. You might allow yourself a brief rest before pushing forward. These small shifts can have a big impact on how you feel.

This approach is deeply aligned with the principles of Zero Balancing (ZB), where the focus is on supporting the body’s natural ability to heal and find balance. Rather than imposing change from the outside, ZB creates the conditions for the body to reorganize itself from within. 

Self-care, in this sense, is not about adding more—it’s about noticing more.

It’s also about trust. Trusting that your body is not working against you, but for you. Even discomfort or tension can be understood as communication, not impediment or failure. When you begin to listen with curiosity instead of judgment, your relationship with your body shifts. It becomes less of something to manage, and more of something to partner with.

Over time, this way of relating to your inner world builds a sense of relationship with your body. You may find that you feel more grounded, more responsive, and less reactive. Not because you’ve mastered a perfect routine, but because you’ve developed a reliable connection to yourself.

Self-care that works is not complicated or time-consuming. It doesn’t require the right products or the perfect schedule. It begins with a willingness to pause, to notice, and to listen.

Your body is already speaking.

Perhaps it’s time to start listening.

Practitioners

Observations From the Field–When Contracted Energy Expands

Have you ever worked with a client whose energy was contracted? When you first put your hands on them, you notice very little energy is available to work with. I’ve had several such clients. I’ve been fascinated by what happens when, after several sessions, their energy begins to expand. Here is one phenomenon I’ve observed.

I first noticed what might happen when contracted energy expands with a client who was grappling with immense stress both professionally and personally. Not surprisingly this stress manifested as structural tension. For instance, they held their legs so rigidly that I often had to say, “help me bend your knee,” just to position them for a hip fulcrum. Their energy mirrored this contraction so there was very little available to work with. Although they consistently felt more relaxed by the end of each session, their overall contracted structure and energy persisted through multiple sessions.

We know that one way to work with contracted energy is a slower session with longer and more energetic fulcrums. After several sessions working in this way, the client’s energy began to expand. And then the most interesting thing happened. I discovered their field had very little integrity. 

What I noticed first was the stark contrast in their post-session response. In previous sessions, they got off the table feeling more centered, clear and relaxed. Now, after the very same type of session that had offered so much benefit, they were feeling spacy and ungrounded. 

I was perplexed. Finally, I began to notice the energy released by my fulcrums seemed to dissipate into nothing. The client’s field lacked sufficient integrity to hold onto the newly available energy. This was a significant realization for me: I was giving them exactly the wrong type of session. To build integrity in the field, a faster-paced and more structural session with compression is indicated, not a slower, more energetic approach. When I made these changes, the client began to improve.

When contracted, the state of their field was masked. As their energy expanded, I was able to get more information about the lack of integrity. There was more energy available for me to feel so I was able to discern the nature of what I was feeling.  

My work with clients has been significantly shaped by lessons learned from this client and others like them. I now prioritize gathering information about the organization of the client’s field organization during the initial and throughout subsequent sessions. When energy availability is minimal, I pay close attention to observing the integrity of their field as their energy starts to expand. Attunement to subtle shifts allows for timely adjustments in approach.

For these clients, sessions often involve dynamic changes in tempo, structure, and the type of fulcrums used. I alternate between fulcrums that encourage expansion and those that use compression to strengthen the field’s integrity, usually following an expand, expand, compress, expand, expand, compress rhythm. Once the field’s integrity is well-established and sustained between appointments, I can use expansive fulcrums when necessary without the field destabilizing. Clients whose energetic contraction was masking a lack of field integrity have thrived with this approach. Their lives begin to change. They become more grounded and stable and more available to themselves and others. 

Practitioners

What Makes a Good ZB Good?

I’ve been thinking about two memorable Zero Balancing (ZB) experiences that made me wonder about the nature of a “good” ZB. In one instance, I received a session from a practitioner who was fairly new to ZB. Upon discovering I was certified, they became very nervous and remained so throughout the session. Unfortunately, I didn’t receive a very good session. At least I didn’t think so at the time. Yet later that evening, the session triggered a deep and beneficial personal process. So it turned out to be a great ZB! While assisting a different class, I gave a ZB to someone who remained tense and stiff throughout the entire session. When the session ended, they jumped off the table and practically ran out of the room. I felt awful and was convinced I’d given them a horrible ZB. Yet when I saw them the next class day, they looked blissful and said it had been one of the best experiences they had ever had. So I’m wondering…what makes a good ZB good?

Have you wondered about this? What is your definition of a good ZB? 

Have you ever received a really good ZB from a practitioner who wasn’t highly skilled? What made it good?

Have you ever received a not-so-good session from a practitioner who was highly skilled? What made it not-so-good?

During the session I received my attention mostly was on how nervous the practitioner was. What has been your experience with how the client’s attention affects the ZB they receive? 

During the session I received, the practitioner did not meet my donkey. Is meeting the donkey a requirement for a good ZB? 

I was not able to relax during the session. Is client relaxation a requirement for a good ZB? 

I got off the table feeling I hadn’t had a good ZB. What might explain the beneficial result that happened later that evening? 

When I was the practitioner giving what felt like an unsuccessful session, my attention was on self-judgment. I worried I wasn’t doing a good job. Does the practitioner’s attention affect the quality of the session they give?

I assumed I was not meeting my partner’s donkey because there was no relaxation. Does meeting the donkey automatically relax the client? 

Can you meet their donkey if they don’t relax? 

I was convinced that if I had been a better ZB practitioner (I had 12 years experience at the time) the person would have relaxed completely. Do you agree? 

Based on the feedback, the effect of my session was enormously helpful. How did that happen? 

I hope these questions were interesting to you! Thanks for reading!

Linda Wobeskya, MSPT