newly divorced mom of three kids who were experiencing big-city life for the first time, I was out on my own, struggling to support my family and starting a career in corporate America.
Several years later, I began waking up in the middle of the night, soaked in pools of perspiration, and I had hot flashes and mood swings during the day as well. I had no idea what was happening. Fortunately, my baby boomer generation often brought information into the public discourse that had previously been hidden and not discussed. This was especially true of issues involving women’s bodies and hormonal life cycles. And then I learned that migraines often increase during perimenopause in women who are prone to them. Thus I was able to figure out that my strange symptoms indicated I was beginning perimenopause. I was astonished — I was only forty-two years old!
Seeking solutions to handle all of it — my stress, the perimenopause, and the migraines — I read a multitude of books by physicians, researchers, and wellness experts. These included mind-body books by physicians Herbert Benson, Deepak Chopra, Andrew Weil, and Jon Kabat-Zinn; women’s health books by Christiane Northrup, MD, and Gail Sheehy; positive affirmation books by Shakti Gawain and Louise Hay; and headache books by Oliver Sacks, MD, and the physician-psychologist team of Roger K. Cady, MD, and Kathleen Farmer, PsyD. I attended lectures and monitored my body and habits.
Then I had a realization: in those months when I was eating regularly, drinking enough water, sleeping well, exercising, and remaining stress-aware, I did not get the blazing migraine that had become so predictable I could time my periods by it. I also noticed that my hot flashes were often preceded by angry or fearful thoughts. The connections between my mind, body, and health were becoming increasingly clear.
Life of a Headache Magnet
To my surprise, ever since I learned how to stop headaches on the spot in 1970, I seemed to become a magnet for people who had them. Wherever I went — work or job interview, party or family gathering, boutique or makeup counter — someone would inevitably complain to me, “Ugh, I’ve got such a headache! I have to [fill in the blank: take a break, go home, leave the party, lie down, take a pill . . .].”
So I would offer to help, saying, “I can stop your headache! All I’m going to do is put my hands on your head; just give me about five minutes.” (“Really? Okay. . .”) Lord knows why, but they trusted me. Slipping into the privacy of a nearby office, dressing room, the corner of a store or home, I would relieve the pain. Afterward, delighted and amazed, they would thank me and resume their activities, now pain-free. This occurred hundreds and hundreds of times without my understanding the process or knowing how pervasive the problem of headaches is.
Then in 1991, after twenty-one years of this informal experimentation, my path took an unexpected turn, and I made the decision to devote myself to a life in healing. I was working as a magazine advertising sales manager, finally at the top of my game and able to support my children, when I was suddenly laid off during our industry’s annual trade show. I was devastated. But then just an hour later, in the middle of saying my goodbyes, I stopped a client’s migraine — at her booth in the middle of the noisy Las Vegas Convention Center, packed with forty thousand people! I was surprised that my method worked even amid such chaos. A light bulb went off in my head, and I decided right then that I would teach others how to relieve their own pain.
The Scope of the Problem
In order to teach my healing method to others, I realized that not only would I need to become a keen observer of how it worked, but I would also need to learn all about headaches. I immersed myself in the literature, poring over consumer and medical books, peer-reviewed headache and neurology journals, countless articles, and research abstracts — until I began to understand the scope of the problem: there were millions of headache sufferers in the United States.
In 1992, there were an estimated 23.6 million migraineurs, of whom 11.3 million had moderate to severely debilitating migraines.1 This population was “bedridden for about 3 million days per month and had an estimated 74.2 million days per year of restricted activity due to migraine,” potentially costing businesses $1.4 billion in lost productivity annually.2
These staggering numbers are even higher today and, as in 1992, tell only half the story. Headache and migraine patients suffer for years, even decades, but not for lack of seeking a cure. Desperate for answers, most seek help over time from a variety of professionals, consulting with neurologists, pain specialists, psychiatrists, psychologists, dentists, orthodontists, optometrists, ENTs (ear, nose, and throat doctors), allergists, osteopaths, naturopaths, acupuncturists, chiropractors, homeopaths, nutritionists, yoga teachers, and mind-body practitioners, including biofeedback, physical, occupational, craniosacral, Reiki, and massage therapists.
And yet, after rounds of prescribed and over-the-counter medications and other therapies, millions of people still have millions of migraines. A particular drug might work at first but then lose its effectiveness. Patients who experience negative side effects from a medication or treatment discontinue it and switch to another therapy, thus beginning their search again. Prolonged reliance on one or a combination of medications results in increasingly frequent and intense episodes — and with their pain escalating, patients move on to another practitioner.
This miserable merry-go-round takes an emotional toll. Hope rises with the promise of each new, cutting-edge therapy, only to be dashed when it doesn’t work. After years of suffering, headache patients become increasingly isolated, disillusioned, frustrated, and angry. They begin to accept the previously unimaginable prognosis that their migraines are incurable. Worn down and resigned to their fates, with hopes of a cure gone, many patients respond by giving up, doing nothing, falling into despair, or becoming drug-dependent, which still leaves them with cycles of chronic headaches and pain.
Headache Healing Confluences
These insights into the desperate world of headache sufferers made me more determined to teach my therapy. I thought: “There’s all this suffering, and yet I can relieve a headache in minutes with my hands. I need to do what I can to bring my therapy out into the world.”
But first, I had to determine whether anyone could do it, or if it was just my touch. I transcribed into words what I had been experiencing on the head and in my hands and created simple step-by-step instructions to describe the process. I asked several people with history of migraine to test my instructions, and my willing test subjects reported being able to “stop a headache in its tracks” or “back one down from escalating into a full-blown migraine.” This was exciting!
In iterating the specifics of my method, I identified a fascinating cycle of sensations that occurred during the treatment. That is, all headaches had a predictable set of sensations that could be felt, altered, and released, and at each stage there were subtle, yet identifiable cues that, when complete, signaled relief. I used all these cues to codify my method into a protocol that included the focused concentration, or mental push, that seemed to shorten the treatment time.
Examining my method led me to a larger implication: not only did the headache resolve, but so did any associated migraine symptoms, such as nausea, disorientation, and sensitivity to light, sound, and odors. This signified an even bigger story: touch and concentration were producing neurological and physiological changes that were instantly affecting the brain, the pain, and the body’s systems.
I met with medical, mind-body, and research professionals — brilliant and generous leaders in their respective fields — to introduce my work and find a path forward. In 1992, I graduated from Massage School of Santa Monica as a certified massage therapist, trained in myofascial and energy work, and opened my practice in California. My first patients were referred to me by UCLA associate clinical professor and neurologist Susan L. Perlman. Based on Dr. Perlman’s
