Enjoying a popularity spike in alternative medicine enjoyed almost exclusively by the wealthy is craniosacral therapy (CST), bodywork that involves the subtle manipulation of the skull. Or to simplify it like the Daily Mail did, having your head rubbed like a baby’s.
“At first, I poo-pooed [CST] as new age nonsense. Wasn’t this what I’d had done for my son as a baby? It was one of those ‘must-do’ neurotic mum fads (along with baby yoga) that we were all urged to do to make our babies sleep through the night,” writes Nikki Browes, an editor who began to experiment with CST after the death of her father and loss of a job left her with tension headaches. “At five days old, I’d taken him to a craniosacral specialist in Harley Street, desperate for some respite from his refusal to sleep. It didn’t work for my son—I wasn’t confident it would help de-stress an adult.”
But it did work. As for why, you could ask a “cranial practitioner” or I could tell you right now: Having your head touched is soothing as hell. And good news, you don’t have to pay big money at the Mandarin Oriental Spa like Browes did. Grab a friend, grab a neighbor, and gently massage each other’s heads until—together—you know the true beauty of oblivion.
Getting to feel like a baby is a selling point, not a detractor. Babies don’t understand elections. Babies don’t understand the economy. All they have to worry about is pooping and eating and mastering their motor skills. Throw in some scalp rubs and that seems like a fine deal to me. In fact, all I can think about lately is entering a sensory deprivation tank (meant to simulate a womb) for all four years of the Trump administration. If I drown or shrivel up into something resembling a dried apple doll or, well, Donald Trump, so be it. At least I’ll die in the comfort of a fake womb with my one true friend—the monkey butler I’ve purchased to rub my head for me.
Baby head rubs for everyone! Diapers for everyone! Crying for everyone! The future is gonna be GREAT.