My BSR Story

I believe every practitioner should have a personal BSR story, and here is mine:

 Late one Friday night, my then-fiancé and I were on our way to Mozambique when we were in a terrible car accident, hitting a cow that had been chased into the road. The whiplash from the accident led to torticollis. I tried numerous treatments, including chiropractic manipulations, acupuncture, and physiotherapy, but the condition kept reoccurring until someone mentioned Body Stress Release (BSR) to me.

Initially skeptical but desperate, I decided to give it a try. On the day I visited Dan Hugo, my ear was touching my shoulder, and I had to drive my children to school in that condition. By the time I reached Dan, I was in tears. Without much explanation, he immediately lowered me onto the BSR bed and explained the process as he worked on me.

When I got off the bed, I was already 50% better. I was astonished. After completing the follow-up sessions, the torticollis never resurfaced. I then sought BSR for other issues, like lower back pain, and eventually became a maintenance client.

My two daughters, who were struggling with bedwetting at ages 3 and 6 also benefitted from BSR. After a few weeks of sessions, their bladder control greatly improved. When I asked my practitioner about their next appointment, he simply said, “They will tell you; their little bodies know.” True to his words, my youngest would come up to me and say, “I want to go to Dan,” showing how intuitively they listened to their bodies.

I have since introduced all my sisters and friends to BSR. My youngest sister took her one-week-old baby boy to Maria Mackenzie for regular sessions. My best friend opted out of back surgery after regularly visiting Jean Holman. The list of people I’ve referred goes on.

Last year, when my life coach asked me about my ideal next chapter in life, I unexpectedly said, “I think I am done only doing Interior design work and I want to become a BSR practitioner!” The statement passed my lips without me even thinking it, it had to be a sign: and from that moment, I knew my path.