Someone recently asked me about the life of an acupuncturist, and you know what? I had a blast spilling the beans! Why do I adore this gig so much? It’s simple. I get to weave together laughter, tears, sweat, and even a touch of colourful language, all in the pursuit of healing.
It’s not just the job title I love, it’s the whole package. The Village is my blood, sweat and tears. It’s not just a space; it’s a community of healing. An open concept, a collective journey towards wellness and empowerment.
In my practice, I’m surrounded by snippets of lives, whispers of stories that connect us all. It’s like being part of a healing symphony, where my role is to encourage, resource, outsource, and hold space for every person who walks through that door. And let me tell you, there’s something truly awesome about sharing the healing vibe with four to six other souls in the room. It’s a transformation that goes beyond individuals to a real communal healing experience.
Speaking of vibes, the laughter — oh how I love a good laugh! They say it’s the best medicine, and I couldn’t agree more. Sure, sometimes it’s nervous laughter that dances around right before I insert a needle. But then, there are those moments when a joke passes between us that has us in stitches –like the other day when I was putting a button on a patient and she asked me, “Has anyone ever said ‘You acupuncturists really know how to push people’s buttons’”? I laughed out loud, and told her I was going to use that. The funniest things come to you after you’ve been poked (cue jokes).
From one extreme to the next: the tears. This clinic, these walls – if they could talk, they’d have quite the stories to tell. For me, tears aren’t just waterworks; they’re stories. And I’m no stranger to starting the waterworks myself, especially when summer bids adieu and fall comes knocking. (All my patients know how hard this transition is for me. Reminder to self: get more acupuncture.) The other day, a patient came walking in, tears welling in her eyes and said, “Sara, I’m gonna need all the kleenex, it’s about to get emotional up in here!” And emotional it got – we cried about moms past and present, about losses, pain, grief and where it led us, which often cues more tears. I live for the days when tears flow freely and healing happens through shared vulnerability.
Here’s the funniest discovery about my job: I make people sweat, though with a hint of humour. Picture a patient of mine, an acupuncture veteran. She and I go way back, but every time I bust out the needles, the tops of her toes start sweating. She trusts me wholeheartedly, but her toes have a different agenda. It’s become this delightful routine – a blend of trust, tension, and toe-level perspiration. Gah, I love my job.
Then there’s the full-on permission I unleash at the beginning of every one of my acupuncture sessions. Your colourful language is welcome and encouraged! Go ahead, swear at me if you got to, I can handle it.
Here’s a twist for you: I, the acupuncturist, have a little “needle-aversion” backstory myself. I blame it on acupuncture school. But here at the Village I’ve learned that a well-placed F-bomb can do wonders when being poked by that perfectly placed needle. My trusty, needle-wielding comrades Lisa, Sharyn and Shanie have treated me enough to know just how to handle my occasional outbursts. So, you’re welcome.
The bright side is that I’ve turned needle aversion into a superpower. I specialize in those who dread needles, who’ve had their fair share of needle nightmares. I’ve been there, felt that discomfort, and now I’m your F-bomb-certified acupuncturist with the skills and vocabulary to guide you through.
So, there you have it – the life of an acupuncturist, all wrapped up in laughter, tears, sweat, and a sprinkle of colourful language. I get to be the conductor of a healing symphony, crafting harmony out of these diverse notes of experience.
Who wouldn’t want to be an acupuncturist?
