The Art of Silence: Needling Clients to Embrace Quiet in Massage, Holistic Therapies, and Beyond

As a practitioner of massage and holistic therapies, I often find myself gently nudging clients toward an experience many resist: silence. 

It’s a topic I revisit time and again; not just in my treatment room, but in conversations about meditation, yoga within my local holistic community.

Silence isn’t just the absence of sound; it’s a gateway to something deeper, a space where we can reconnect with ourselves. Yet, for so many, it’s a space they’d rather avoid.

Picture this: a client lies on my massage table, the room dimly lit, the air heavy with a relaxing aromatic blend I’ve prepared. I begin my work, kneading tension from their shoulders, and almost immediately, they start chatting. “How’s your day been?” they ask, or “What do you think about this weather?” I smile, respond briefly, and then—gently but firmly—I guide them back to stillness. “Let’s try something,” I say. “Let’s just breathe deeply  and be here together. There is no need to fill the space.” Sometimes they settle in, and sometimes I can feel their discomfort radiating like heat, and the questions begin again! 

Silence, it turns out, is a harder ask than any deep-tissue technique.

The Noise Addiction

We live in a world that’s addicted to noise. From the moment we wake up, we’re plugged in: scrolling through social media, streaming a podcast on our morning walk, cranking the radio on the drive to work. Even in our quieter moments, pottering around the house, we reach for music or the hum of a TV in the background. It’s as if silence is a void we’re afraid to fall into. And in a way, it is. In the stillness, we’re left alone with our thoughts, the repetitive loops, the nagging worries, the voices we’d rather drown out with distraction.

I see this in my clients all the time. They come to me seeking relief from physical tension, but what they don’t always realise is that the body and mind are intertwined. The knots in their shoulders often mirror the clutter in their heads. When I ask them to be silent during a session, it’s not just about creating a “spa-like” atmosphere (though that’s a nice bonus). It’s about giving them a chance to face what’s beneath the surface. The discomfort they feel in that quiet isn’t a flaw – it’s an invitation.

Silence in Holistic Practice

This resistance to stillness isn’t unique to massage.  My yoga teacher friend tells me about some of her students who fidget through savasana, the final resting pose that’s meant to be a meditative pause. They adjust their mats, crack their knuckles, or peek around the room anything to avoid sinking into the silence – but when they are forced to as part of a class session; they usually love it and want more, it becomes part of their antipation for going to a regular class. 

In meditation sessions, I’ve often heard the same refrain: “I can’t meditate because my mind won’t stop.” But that’s the point. The mind doesn’t stop; we just learn to sit with it. The practice isn’t about silencing the thoughts, it’s about letting them be without feeding them more noise.

Holistic therapies, at their core, are about balance. We use touch, breath, movement, and intention to bring the body and mind into alignment. But none of that can fully take root if we’re constantly running from the quiet. 

Silence is where the real work happens. It’s where we process, reflect, and heal. And yet, it’s the thing people fight hardest against.

Cultivating Quiet in Everyday Life

I often encourage my clients to take this practice beyond the treatment room. Try walking without a podcast, I tell them. Spend an afternoon pottering around the house without music. Drive without the radio blaring. At first, they laugh it off—“I’d go crazy!”—but those who try it come back with stories. “It was weird,” one client admitted. “I kept hearing the same thought over and over: “I’m not doing enough” .. “But then I just let it sit there, and it got quieter.”

That’s the magic of silence. It’s uncomfortable because it holds a mirror up to our inner world. We don’t want to face the repetitive thoughts, the “I’m not good enough,” the “What if I fail?”—because they feel too big, too real. But when we stop running, when we let the stillness settle, those thoughts lose their power. They become background noise instead of the main event.

The Discomfort Is the Point

People don’t want to face the voices in their heads, and I get it. I’ve been there too. There’s a reason we’re drawn to stimulation, it’s a shield. But as someone who’s spent years working with bodies and minds, I can tell you this: the discomfort of silence is where growth lives. In massage, it’s the moment a client stops talking and starts breathing deeply, letting the tension unravel. In yoga, it’s the second they stop fidgeting and surrender to the pose. In meditation, it’s the shift from “I can’t do this” to “I’m here.”

So, the next time you’re tempted to fill the quiet, with a playlist, a conversation, a screen—pause. Try needling yourself the way I needle my clients. 

Step into the stillness, even if it’s just for a minute. You might be surprised by what you find there. It won’t be comfortable, but it might just be transformative. After all, in a world that’s addicted to noise, silence is the ultimate rebellion.