Lately, I hear this more and more often:
“I finished the course, I learned the techniques well, the instructor even praised me for having a good hand, I have the materials and the recordings, so there’s no need for me to attend further training.”
And every time I hear it, I smile. Sadly.
Because I know that the very moment you believe you “know enough” is the moment you actually stop evolving.
And self-sufficiency—the arrogance of “knowing”—only leads you toward stagnation and regression.
Many Yumeiho® practitioners stop at a certain level of training and no longer return to improvement courses, except very rarely—usually when they need a massage.
The reasons they give sound logical: lack of time, distance, costs, family, work.
But behind all these justifications often lies a deeper and far more dangerous reason: the belief that “I already know enough.”
This attitude is one of the greatest traps in the therapist’s profession.
When you believe you know enough, you stop learning.
The human body is not a fixed formula but a living, complex, constantly changing system that forces you to observe, feel, compare, and refine your touch continuously.
Every person is different, every reaction is unique.
That means the therapist must remain open, attentive, and eager to constantly improve their abilities.
Yumeiho® is not just a technique applied from a template.
It is a path.
A path each therapist walks in their own way; and as long as they stay on this path, they can adapt their technique to the needs and particularities of each client and each session.
On this path, details make the difference: hand placement, direction and intensity of pressure, the rhythm of application, the therapist’s and client’s breathing, the inner state of presence.
None of these can be learned from a book alone, nor are they preserved automatically over time.
They are refined through practice, repetition, and experience.
And of course, they are lost if they are not revisited, corrected, and practiced under the guidance of an experienced instructor—someone who has the ability to make you fall in love again with the simplicity and beauty of Yumeiho®.
Improvement is not necessarily about learning new (and supposedly “secret”) techniques. It is about deepening and better understanding the ones you already know—or should know.
Many therapists end up repeating movements mechanically, without awareness.
This is where the instructor’s role becomes essential—seeing what you missed, correcting an angle or posture, adjusting a pressure, showing you a more effective variation.
Sometimes, a single observation completely changes the quality of a technique.
I myself continue to attend courses, seminars, advanced training sessions, and practice groups, even after many years of daily work.
Not because I “don’t know,” but because I realize how much I still have to grow before reaching true mastery.
Every time I discover something new—a more refined gesture, a different explanation, a clearer approach.
Sometimes, even during a simple presentation, I hear or see a detail that changes the way I view a technique or a therapeutic approach.
That is the beauty of Yumeiho®: it never ends.
There is no “I know it all.”
There is only a continuous process of growth, where each experience brings you a little closer to the essence.
There is also a subtle form of professional pride: “I have years of practice, I have nothing left to learn.”
In reality, those very years of practice should bring the humility of the one who understands how little he knows.
In Japan, Yumeiho® masters repeat the same techniques for years, until the movement becomes natural, effortless.
Not because they do not know them, but because they know there is always room for improvement.
That is why modesty and perseverance are the hallmarks of a true professional.
Improvement courses are not a luxury; they are a form of professional hygiene.
They are not for “collecting certificates” but for keeping your curiosity alive.
For remaining a student, no matter how many years of practice you have.
Just as a therapist maintains their own body in order to work, they must also maintain their knowledge.
When you stop learning, you begin to repeat yourself, then to stagnate, then to distort the techniques, and eventually to make mistakes without realizing it.
Yumeiho® is not a static technique but a path of continuous development.
And improving yourself is proof that you respect both the profession and the people who sit on the tatami in front of you.
And finally, it is not about certificates, but about curiosity, respect, and growth.
About the joy of remaining a student, no matter how many years of practice you have.
Because the true therapist is not the one who knows everything, but the one who never stops learning.
And if you’re wondering “where do practitioners get lost on the Yumeiho® path?”, the answer is simple and uncomfortable: they get lost exactly where they choose to stop learning.
Instead of continuing the journey, they choose the short, easy, familiar path.
Instead of exposing themselves to corrections, they prefer the comfort of their own convictions.
Instead of growing, they settle for what they already know.
But the Yumeiho® path is not for those who stop.
It is for those who move forward.
For those who remain curious.
For those patient enough to repeat, to correct, to understand, to feel.
It is for those who accept that the technique is alive, that they themselves change, and that every session, every client, brings a new lesson.
It is for those who understand that mastery is never reached, but pursued—step by step, movement by movement, year after year.
Those who stay on the path are not necessarily the most talented.
They are the most consistent.
They are the ones who return.
The ones who do not forget why they started.
And most importantly, the ones who know that no matter how much they’ve learned, there is always another step, another detail, another gesture worth discovering.
Because Yumeiho® never abandons you.
But you can abandon Yumeiho®—through absence, stagnation, self-sufficiency.
And the real loss is not that you stop attending courses.
The real loss is that you stop evolving!
