Physical Therapy, Redefined

Healing the body, mind, and heart together.

Physical therapy.

What do those two words mean to you?

For most people, the first associations are: injury, pain, rehabilitation, time away from a job or a pastime you love. Maybe even your own bout of PT that wasn’t pleasant.

Inconvenience. Frustration. Grief.

It makes sense to think of PT as only physical. After all, it’s in the name.

But here’s what I’ve learned over years of practice: the body is a container for the soul, the mind, and the heart.

Every person who walks through our door may be asking for help with their body—but that body carries stories, dreams, fears, and hopes. And that’s why the very first meeting with a client is one of my favorite moments. I get to listen for the deeper reason behind the obvious reason they’ve come:

• “Back pain for years”… and retirement travel no longer feels possible.

  
  

• “A stiff knee that won’t bend well”… and I can’t get down on the floor with my grandkids.

  
  

• “My shoulder catches when I reach behind me”… and now I can’t throw the ball with my son.

  
  

• “I get hurt every time I try to get in shape”… it feels like proof I was never athletic.

  
  

• “My arm goes numb at my computer”… will I still be able to provide for my family?

  
  

Our body is a vessel. And a vessel is designed to hold something worth pouring out.

But when the vessel feels broken, how do we pour into the relationships that mean the most to us? 

Pain and limitation keep us from showing up as the best version of ourselves.

And here’s the paradox: to help others, we first need to learn how to receive help.

Coaches. Guides. Healers. Even we practitioners lean on each other for treatment and coaching.

None of us are exempt—we are all needy, all human.

After 23 years in hospital-based outpatient care, I’ve spent almost three years now at Restore/Thrive. 

And almost every week I say out loud how grateful I am to be here. Grateful for the time to sit across from a client, look them in the eyes, hug them, say, “I’m sorry you’re hurting,” and then paint a vision of what’s possible.

We’re not miracle workers. We’re humans who see past the obvious “problem,” and use both knowledge and compassion to walk with you toward a solution.

If you’ve never experienced PT like this, come by. Talk to us. 

Because once we’ve met you and worked with you, you’re family.

And family always shows up for each other.