Tara Hagan-Fields RMT

Apparently my 75 open tabs needed another tab this morning. 😂
This one sent me down a rabbit hole. 🧠

Science Wednesday 🧠

I've been awake since 4 and at work since 5:20 this morning.

For the record, this is NOT normal for me. 😂 I'm usually here around 7 for my first patient at 8.

But for the last few weeks, there has been so much happening behind the scenes that I've been giving myself an extra couple of hours in the morning just to work through the things that need to get done.

Some things I can delegate.

And some things are simply mine to do.

So naturally, while doing ALL THE THINGS, my brain decided:

You know what we should also do? LEARN SOMETHING.

😂

Enter the Mel Robbins podcast with Dr. Sasha Hamdani talking about ADHD.

Coffee beside me. Podcast in my ears. Work in front of me. Approximately 75 tabs already open in my brain.

And as I'm listening...

Well, s**t.

So much of this has been me forever.

The inattentive pieces. The hyperactive pieces. The need to be doing something while I'm doing something else. The ideas. The jumping from one thing to another because somehow they're ALL connected in my brain.

I've been using a metaphor a lot lately that suddenly feels even more relevant.

I'm learning to stand outside the fire and let myself be warmed by it instead of being consumed by it.

Because my instinct is to jump in.

An idea? I'm in.

A problem that needs solving? I'm in.

Something that needs doing? I'll do it.

Something I want to learn more about?

Apparently I'll listen to a podcast about it at 5:30 in the morning WHILE doing everything else. 😂

I don't struggle to find the fire.

I struggle to stay out of it.

And right now I'm intentionally practicing holding my ground outside of it.

I can see everything that's happening. I can feel the urgency. I can recognize all the things I could be doing.

But I don't have to step into every flame.

I can feel the warmth and choose where my energy actually needs to go.

And naturally, while contemplating all of THAT, my fascia-loving brain opened tab #76:

What about the body?

Here's where the science gets really interesting.

There is emerging research looking at ADHD and interoception — our ability to notice and interpret signals coming from inside our bodies.

And fascia?

We now understand that fascia is far more than passive wrapping around our muscles.

Fascia is richly innervated sensory tissue.

It's involved in proprioception, nociception and the continuous stream of sensory information contributing to how we experience our bodies.

Which got me thinking about movement.

The bouncing leg.

Constantly changing positions.

Stretching.

Pacing while talking on the phone.

Getting up.

Needing to MOVE while thinking.

What if we didn't automatically see all of that movement as something that needs to be stopped?

Movement creates sensory information.

Could some of that movement be the body looking for input?

Where am I?
What am I feeling?
What do I need?

And this is where the therapist in me gets REALLY curious.

In my work, I think a lot about restriction — but I don't think of us as simply physical bodies.

We are whole beings, constantly taking in and responding to information — physical, sensory, emotional, mental and environmental.

Our experiences shape us.

We adapt.

We protect.

We compensate.

And sometimes those adaptations become patterns we continue to carry long after the circumstances around them have changed.

So when I talk about creating more freedom in the body, I'm not simply talking about making a tight piece of tissue less tight.

My clinical belief is that when we create an opportunity for restrictions to soften and patterns to change, we create more opportunity for flow — of movement, fluid, sensation and information throughout the whole system.

And sometimes what emerges isn't purely physical.

There can be movement.

Emotion.

Awareness.

A protective response.

A feeling we recognize immediately — or something we don't understand at all.

Sometimes an experience can have a much bigger story attached to it than the place where we happen to feel it in our body.

And perhaps, as some of that noise or restriction changes, we create an opportunity to hear ourselves more clearly.

Not necessarily to become still.

That's an important distinction.

The goal isn't to make a moving body stop moving.

Maybe it's to create enough space that we can begin to notice:

Why does my body want to move?

What am I sensing?

What happens when I follow it?

What happens when I don't immediately try to stop, correct or explain it?

That brings me right back to interoception.

Because maybe this isn't simply about having more freedom in our bodies.

Maybe it's about developing a deeper awareness of ourselves within them.

Can I notice the sensation before I automatically respond to it?

Can I recognize tension, pressure, pulling, restlessness, hunger, fatigue, emotion or the need to move?

Can I begin to distinguish one signal from another?

Can I become more aware of what my body is communicating rather than simply experiencing it as noise?

That is the piece that fascinates me.

And maybe the goal isn't stillness at all.

Maybe it's awareness.

Maybe it's having enough awareness to feel the impulse, understand something about what we're experiencing, and then have a little more choice in what we do next.

Now — science hat firmly ON — I want to be really clear about where the evidence ends and my curiosity begins.

There isn't research showing that fascial restrictions cause ADHD.

There isn't research showing that myofascial release treats ADHD.

And that's not what I'm suggesting.

But there is fascinating research happening around fascia as sensory tissue, interoception, proprioception and nervous-system regulation.

And there is emerging research exploring interoception in ADHD.

I'm fascinated by the space where those conversations might eventually meet.

Because maybe instead of always asking:

Why can't I just sit still?
Why can't I concentrate?
Why can't I shut my brain off?

I can get curious about something different:

What is my brain asking for?
What is my body asking for?

Maybe I don't need to close all 75 tabs.

Maybe I need to better understand why I opened them — and learn which ones actually deserve my attention.

Or, in my current language:

Which fires do I actually need to step into?

Because I don't need to extinguish the fire.

I can stand outside it.

I can feel its warmth.

And I can choose when to step in.

Although, for the record, closing approximately 47 tabs would probably still be helpful. 😂

Now back to the work I came in at 5:20 to actually accomplish...

while tab #76 remains firmly open. 🧠

This One Landed 📚🎧

This book wasn't actually meant for me.

The Energy Bus by Jon Gordon was shared with me because we were looking for something that might help my son.

Turns out, I needed it.

Man, did I need it.

I'm always learning. I'm always questioning. And I'm certainly still working on my own s**t.

I spend a lot of my professional life thinking and talking about patterns — the ways our bodies adapt, compensate and respond to what has happened to us and what is happening around us.

But patterns aren't only physical.

We carry stories. Beliefs. Expectations. Habits. Fears. Ways of protecting ourselves. Ways of moving through the world that may have served us once, but perhaps don't anymore.

And every once in a while, I read a book, listen to a podcast, take a course or hear someone say something that makes me stop and think:

Oh. S**t. That's me.

The Energy Bus did that.

There were parts that were uncomfortable to hear because I could recognize myself in them.

I could see places where I had been waiting for circumstances to change before allowing myself to feel differently.

Places where I had been focusing so much on what wasn't working that I was feeding the very energy I desperately wanted to escape.

And places where I had convinced myself I was stuck, while still holding tightly to some of the things keeping me there.

That one landed.

Because recognizing a pattern doesn't have to mean beating ourselves up for having it.

Maybe it's simply an opportunity to notice:

Is this still serving me?

And if it isn't...

What might happen if I loosen my grip?

I'm still figuring that part out.

But perhaps that's the whole point.

If you're looking for something to read or listen to this weekend, maybe this one will land for you too.

And if you've read or listened to something lately that made you stop and look at yourself a little differently, I'd love to know what it was.

Here's to all the learning. 💞

Apparently we’re planning 2027 already… ☕️💙

I know. It’s August. 😂

But my treatment schedule for the remainder of 2026 is now fully booked, and I want to make sure the people who want to continue working with me have the opportunity to plan ahead.

If we’ve worked together for any length of time, you’ve probably heard me talk about listening to your body before it has to yell quite so loudly.

Scheduling can be part of that too.

Think about what you want your care to look like in 2027.

Maybe you know you benefit from a regular rhythm of treatment.

Maybe there are certain times of year when life, work, travel or activity ask more of your body.

Or maybe you simply know that when your body tells you it’s time, you don’t want to discover that my next appointment is months away.

Your care deserves a place in your calendar too.

I’m beginning to plan 2027 treatment schedules now, so if you’d like to start looking at yours, please email me at [email protected] or send me a DM.

For the remainder of 2026, I’ll continue to keep a cancellation waitlist. Life happens and schedules change, so appointments will occasionally become available. If you’d like to be on that list, reach out.

I’m also beginning to secure 2027 treatment series for new patients who have been waiting to begin working with me.

Twenty years into this work, I remain incredibly grateful that you continue to trust me with your stories, your bodies and your care.

And yes… apparently I’m now asking you to think about next year while we’re still wearing sandals. 😂☕️

Don’t wait until you need it to make room for it.

💙

Every body tells a different story.

One of the questions I'm asked most often is...

"Why does gentle work sometimes create such profound change?"

It's a wonderful question.

One of the analogies I often use in the clinic is this:

Imagine wearing a straightjacket.

You still know how to raise your arms.

You simply can't.

Your muscles haven't forgotten.

Your brain hasn't forgotten.

The movement is still there.

The restriction has changed what's possible.

For me, fascial restrictions can sometimes feel a little like that.

Not because the body has forgotten how to move...

But because it has adapted to move differently.

One of the things I appreciate most about Myofascial Release is that we aren't trying to force movement.

We're working to reduce restrictions within the fascial system, helping restore space, adaptability, and flow.

When that happens, movement often begins to emerge naturally.

Not because the body has learned something new...

But because it finally has the freedom to express what it has always known.

This way of thinking has shaped how I practice over the past 20 years, and it continues to influence every treatment, every movement class, and every educational opportunity I create.

I'd love to know...

Has an analogy ever helped something "click" for you in understanding your own body?

💙

For nearly 10 years, this space has been home to Fascial Connections.

It has been where I've had the privilege of walking alongside thousands of people through pain, healing, change, and growth. It has shaped me just as much as I hope it has supported those who have walked through its doors.

After 20 years in practice, I've come to realize that our dreams don't always ask us to become something different.

Sometimes they ask us to become more of who we've always been.

As many of you know, I'm beginning a new chapter in a thoughtfully and functionally designed space that will allow me to continue deepening my work in myofascial release while expanding opportunities for movement, education, and canine therapy.

As I move forward, I'm hoping this beautiful clinic can become the beginning of someone else's dream.

If you know a practitioner, entrepreneur, or business owner looking for a welcoming professional space, I'd be so grateful if you shared this listing with them.

Thank you for being part of my journey. I truly believe the spaces we create continue to hold possibility long after we leave them.

🔗 Commercial listing below.

This is another self-care tool that has earned a permanent place in both my home and the clinic.

The MELT Fascia Hydrator is designed to provide gentle, sustained compression and decompression to areas of the body that often become stiff, compressed, or overworked.

I often recommend it for the feet, calves, forearms, and hands—places that quietly accumulate tension from the way we move, stand, grip, and adapt throughout the day.

What I appreciate most is that it encourages people to slow down.

Rather than aggressively rolling over tissue, you're invited to pause, breathe, and allow the body to respond to gentle, sustained pressure. That slower approach often creates an opportunity for the nervous system to settle and for movement to become a little easier.

I frequently combine it with mindful breathing, gentle movement, myofascial unwinding, or a few minutes on the vibration plate as part of a simple self-care routine.

Like every tool I recommend, it isn't about forcing change.

It's about giving your body the opportunity to reconnect, adapt, and move with a little more ease.

Sometimes the smallest moments of attention create the biggest changes.

🔗 Amazon link in the comments.

This is one of those simple tools that has quietly become part of both my own self-care routine and the work I recommend to many of my clients.

These soft wrist and ankle weights are the same style we use in the clinic.

What I love about them is that they don't force movement. Instead, they provide gentle input that can help bring awareness back into the body and invite the nervous system to notice where tension is being held.

I'll often recommend wearing them during gentle movement, while standing on a vibration plate, during myofascial unwinding, balance exercises, walking, or even while simply spending a few quiet moments breathing and reconnecting with your body.

The goal isn't to make exercise harder.

It's to offer your body a little more sensory feedback and gentle traction through the fascial system, allowing movement to become more intentional and more aware.

Sometimes the smallest changes create the biggest shifts.

Like any self-care tool, these aren't right for everyone, but when they are appropriate, they've become one of my favourite recommendations because they're simple, comfortable, and easy to incorporate into everyday life.

🔗 Amazon link in the comments.

This has become one of my favourite self-care tools.

This is the same one we have in the clinic.

I originally started using a vibration plate as a way to help me reconnect with my body on days when movement felt harder, my nervous system felt overloaded, or I simply needed a gentle place to begin.

I started with just 10 minutes each morning. Once that became part of my routine, I added 10 minutes in the evening. These days, there are times when I’ll use it for 20 minutes in the morning and another 20 minutes at night, often finishing the last 10 minutes with light weights and simple functional movement patterns.

What I appreciate most is that it gives me a way to move, breathe, and check in with my body, even on days when a full workout isn’t realistic.

For me, it has become a simple and consistent part of my self-care routine.

🔗 Amazon link in comments

Ten years ago, I dreamed of creating a clinic where Myofascial Release wasn’t simply a technique—it was the philosophy that guided how we cared for people.

Looking back, I’m incredibly proud that we stayed true to that vision.

The last decade has reminded me that becoming a better therapist isn’t only about learning new techniques.

It’s about continuing to learn about ourselves.

Every course.

Every mentor.

Every patient.

Every experience.

Each one shapes the therapist we become.

Today, I’ve shared a letter reflecting on ten years of Fascial Connections, the people who helped build it, and the next chapter that’s beginning.

Thank you to everyone who has been part of this journey.

https://us18.campaign-archive.com/?u=219501adefc2a21b69940c864&id=39a3904a28

One of the greatest gifts of this profession is realizing that I will always be a student.

Learning isn’t something we finish—it’s a lifelong commitment. Every course, every mentor, every patient, every animal, and every experience adds another layer of understanding.

This weekend was dedicated to canine anatomy, movement, palpation, and assessment. While the anatomy may differ from our own, I found myself returning to the same principles that have guided my work throughout my career.

One of the things that amazes me most is how the principles of Myofascial Release translate across species. Every body adapts. Every body compensates. Every body has a story. Learning to recognize those patterns in dogs is only deepening the way I understand movement, fascia, and the body’s remarkable ability to adapt.

One thing I’ve come to appreciate over the years is that the deeper we are willing to go in our own learning—and the more willing we are to receive treatment ourselves—the more we are able to truly meet those who place their trust in us. Our own growth, both professionally and personally, allows us to see more, understand more, and create space for our patients to go further in their own healing.

I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity to keep learning alongside passionate instructors, dedicated colleagues, and some wonderful canine teachers.