Designing Touch: The Origins of the Karleetus Massage Protocol
I didn’t set out to invent a massage protocol. I set out to survive in a profession that often makes no sense. A profession where intuition is praised, but technique is sloppy. Where bodies are treated like soft objects to be manipulated—not as complex systems governed by design, rhythm, tension, and change. Where “just feel” passes for strategy. I knew there had to be a better way.
Over years of practice, I kept returning to the same question:
What actually makes a massage effective—not just pleasant, but meaningful, impactful, transformative?
The answers weren’t found in textbooks alone. They came from patterns I saw in the real world—in music, architecture, therapy, dance, anatomy, physics, and art. I noticed that what moves us—physically, emotionally, even spiritually—follows certain principles. Design principles. Things like unity, alignment, rhythm, contrast. These aren't fluffy abstractions. They're functional laws that govern coherence in space and time.
When I started to apply these principles to massage, things changed.
I stopped seeing massage as a series of disconnected strokes and started seeing it as a designed experience. One with a beginning, middle, and end. One where every touch has intention and structure. Where pressure is not just pressure, but part of a rhythm. Where transitions matter as much as techniques. Where contrast isn’t a mistake—it’s a message.
That shift—from technique to structure, from instinct to intention—was the birth of my massage protocol.
But structure alone isn’t enough. I’ve seen rigid systems that suck the life out of the work. That’s not what this is. This is not a fixed choreography. It’s a framework for creative precision. A way to think and feel and decide. A protocol that respects the intelligence of the body and the intelligence of the therapist.
Massage, as I’ve come to see it, is not a treatment. It’s not a sequence of tasks. It’s a designed interaction with another human nervous system—dynamic, responsive, sculptural. And like any good design, it should have purpose, coherence, and a touch of elegance.
This manifesto lays out the core of what I now teach, practice, and believe:
That massage can be rigorous without being rigid, intuitive without being vague, artful without being chaotic.
The Karleetus Massage Protocol is the result of this convergence—where design meets anatomy, where structure meets touch, and where massage grows up.
Welcome to the work.
Why It Matters
- Because massage deserves more than clichés and guesswork.
- Because being good with your hands isn’t enough—you need to be sharp with your mind.
- Because clients can feel the difference between a massage that’s pleasant and one that’s profound.
- Because our profession will only be taken seriously when we take our own methods seriously.
- Because structure sets you free.
Massage is a language. Learn it. Share it.
Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.