26/03/2026
An Internal Family Systems Practitioner recently said to me, it's not so much the modality that counts as much as the relationship between therapist and client. When the relationship is humming — when there is complete trust — healing can occur in vast and nuanced ways that can only happen in that safe environment.
In my work as a practitioner, I observe over and over again changes that are hard to explain occurring in clients when they're at ease during their Contact CARE session. This applies to the dogs, humans, horses, chickens, cows and cats I work with. Some days, I seemingly work a miracle. I could swear that the vast majority of those are because of the quality of the relationship between us. I'd like to share a few stories where this has been true in very different ways.
I'm not a cat whisperer. I've definitely had my share of conundrums with the feline family. But I'll never forget one special lad, rescued as a kitten who grew up alongside his whāngai rescue brother. When anyone entered the room, he'd skitter away. He didn't like being stroked, and his favourite place was on a certain dining room chair where everyone understood that Alfie is Invisible, and he could remain in the room to watch and listen.
I visited the household simply as a guest a few times, and Alfie and I got to know each other in this way. Eventually, he came to me. I knew from observing him that it was important to move very steadily and to give him a lot of warning if I was to make a sudden shift. To my surprise, when I asked with my hands, I was welcome to release some trapped pressure in his skeleton, yet before I felt I’d done a satisfactory job, he moved away. Later, his owner reported she noticed a change in him. He was still his unusual self, but she was able to stroke his head, and he lay on her lap.
A while later, perhaps a year, Alfie went missing. In helping to look for him on the third day, I found him curled up on an outdoor chair in his familiar backyard. He wasn't well but had somehow made his way home without anyone knowing. Very concerned, I gently held him where he was, and worked. Slowly, I felt the shock leave his exhausted body, and his tissues soften and lengthen under my hands. To my relief and utter delight, he looked brighter and brighter, until he shifted his entire shape and resettled to rest. His eyes were again content, alert, and had a shy warmth emanating from them that was touching. He was back — Alfie was truly back.
Another memorable session was with a man in his seventies. He and I had known each other for just over three years through martial arts training together. He regularly received acupuncture and massage and had had one Contact CARE session with me over a year before that had given him a lot of freedom back in his arm that he'd broken as a child. He called in for a session, happy to have another relaxing sleep. He mentioned that the main thing he was dealing with was a constant numbness in his feet and lower legs. Regardless of his dedicated diet, treatment, training, and herbal supplements, it only seemed to be settling further in.
"It's an old age thing," he insisted, and followed up with horror stories of elderly people who lived with far worse than what he was putting up with.
He chose to lie down on his back. As always with my clients, I checked in with him to see if that's how he really felt comfortable, or if he felt it was how he should be positioned. He insisted he felt good there. I pottered for a couple of minutes to let him settle, and while we chatted away, he moved his hands up to clasp them behind his head. He was obviously feeling comfy there.
When he understood that he could stay that way and it didn't impact my work (in fact it improved it), I discovered what I had felt doubtful that I would find — the trapped pressure that contributed to the numbness in his legs. It was in his middle finger, of all places. And each foot was tied in with that original injury (an injury that he couldn't remember). As each foot released, untangling itself from the shock of the original impact, the numbness shifted and disappeared. It felt like a miracle.
I checked in with him a couple of weeks later to see how things were going and sure enough, the numbness was gone. The left foot had a different feeling in it and possibly needed another session to finish it off, but he seemed content.
A practitioner, no matter how skilled they are, never has a 100% success rate, or all the answers for everyone. Sometimes it doesn't matter how long they've been working either — a complete beginner to Contact CARE resolved a significant pain in my wrist that I'd had for two years.
Practitioners all carry different qualities, and what allows someone to feel at ease — to really trust — will vary from person to person. When that sense of safety is there, something deeper can happen. And often, that’s where real change begins.
