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📜Sacred Study: Abhyanga and the Wisdom of Self-Touch (Inner Circle Exclusive)

  • Apr 30
  • 8 min read

Updated: May 1



As Taurus season invites us into slowness, sensuality, and self-connection, there’s no better practice to begin with than Abhyanga, the ancient Ayurvedic ritual of self-massage.


In the West, massage is something we usually receive from another—often for relaxation or to relieve pain. But in Ayurveda, self-massage is a daily practice, a way to maintain health, nourish the body, and build an intimate relationship with yourself.




A Gentle Introduction to Ayurveda


Ayurveda is an ancient system of healing from India, known as the sister science to yoga. It is rooted in the idea that prevention is better than cure, offering guidance on how to live in alignment with nature and our own unique constitution.


Whereas modern Ayurvedic clinics often deliver advice in a more diagnostic, linear way—closely resembling the Western medical model—true Ayurveda is intuitive, gentle, and deeply feminine. Traditionally, it was practised at home, passed down through generations—much like herbal medicine in Celtic or folk traditions.


For me, Ayurveda reflects the energy of the Mother, Maiden, and Crone. She is cyclical and observant, slow and wise. She teaches us to care for ourselves like a mother would: noticing the signs, adjusting gently, listening deeply.




A Note on the Doshas



Ayurveda teaches that we are made up of three main energetic types called doshas:

   •   Vata – air and ether; dry, cool, light, and mobile. Think creativity, movement, and quick thinking.

   •   Pitta – fire and water; hot, sharp, and intense. Think drive, digestion, and determination.

   •   Kapha – earth and water; heavy, grounded, and soft. Think stability, nurturing, and strength.


Each of us has a unique blend of these doshas, and they shift and change with our age, season, and lifestyle. While you don’t need to know your dosha to benefit from Abhyanga, this ancient practice supports all constitutions. We will explore these in future sacred studies.



Woman in turquoise wrap seated, during abhyanga. Background has a candle, flowers, and bottles on a table. Calm, serene mood.
Let your hands become the voice of love — soft, slow, and sure — reminding your body it is a place of beauty, belonging, and quiet strength.Let your hands become the voice of love — soft, slow, and sure — reminding your body it is a place of beauty, belonging, and quiet strength.

What is Abhyanga?


Abhyanga is the Ayurvedic ritual of warm oil self-massage—an ancient, daily practice of nourishment that supports the body, mind, and spirit. Rooted in the traditional health system of India, Abhyanga is far more than just applying oil to the skin. It is a sacred act of tuning in, slowing down, and deeply listening to the needs of the body.


In Ayurveda, oiling the skin is considered essential for health. It is not an afterthought, but a foundational part of daily life—especially in the morning ritual known as Dinacharya. Abhyanga is included in Dinacharya as a form of self-care that helps prepare the body and nervous system for the day ahead. The strokes of Abhyanga are slow, mindful, and intentional. They invite presence and offer grounding in a world that so often pulls us into speed and stress.


Unlike in the West, where moisturising often happens quickly and after the shower—with the hope that a product will “do the work”—Abhyanga is performed before bathing. This allows the warm oil to penetrate the skin more deeply, softening the tissues, calming the nervous system, and preparing the body for detoxification through heat and water. After the massage, a warm shower or bath helps the skin absorb what it needs and gently releases any excess oil, leaving you feeling supple and soothed—without the need for moisturiser.


Abhyanga supports circulation, encourages lymphatic drainage, calms the mind, improves sleep, strengthens immunity, and nourishes the skin from the inside out. It’s a ritual of daily check-in, where the hands become instruments of awareness and healing. Many practitioners believe it not only supports longevity but helps prevent disease by harmonising the body’s internal rhythms.


Traditionally, black sesame oil is used for Abhyanga. It is considered tri-doshic, meaning it is balancing for all three Ayurvedic body types—Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. This oil is deeply nourishing without clogging pores, gently warming, and penetrates the skin easily. It carries a rich, earthy scent and has been revered for centuries for its grounding, healing properties. You can find it at most health food stores or online, and it may be gently warmed before use, especially in the cooler months, to enhance its soothing effect.




My Personal Journey with Abhyanga


I first discovered massage as a form of healing after my mother died. It was a time of immense grief, and I remember finding my way to a Kahuna massage therapist, hoping for something—anything—that might soothe what felt unsoothable. That session was the beginning of my love affair with the body—not just in terms of anatomy, but in the way that touch can communicate safety, compassion, and connection without saying a word.


But the truth is, I’ve been doing this work in some form my whole life. When I was a little girl, I used to massage my father’s feet while he was on dialysis. I had an aunty who would pay me 50 cents to give her a massage while she lay on the lounge. There was something so natural and ritualistic about that for me, even then. I’ve always felt at home in the language of the body and in the quiet intimacy of touch. I’ve always loved bodies—mine included—and felt drawn to caring for them in thoughtful, tactile ways.


About 12 years ago, I deepened my understanding of this through the Ayurvedic practice of Abhyanga. I was taught this ritual of self-massage in the Hare Krishna village near Byron Bay by one of my favourite teachers, Katie, who comes from a beautiful lineage in India. That experience was a turning point for me. It gave me permission to explore and nourish my body in a way I hadn’t before. I remember thinking how I wished I’d known about this earlier—during pregnancy, postpartum, or even as a young girl navigating all the bewildering changes of puberty. And now, as my body changes again with age, Abhyanga feels like both a ritual of remembering and a path to ongoing reverence.


I often find myself naturally self-soothing—rubbing my belly gently, stroking my hands together, cradling my head. These are things I do without thinking, as though my body knows what it needs even before I do. And I think that’s part of the power of this practice: we begin to listen, not with our minds, but with our hands.


Across so many cultures, touch is shared freely within communities. Mothers, aunties, and sisters massage each other—not as a luxury or spa treatment, but as a natural, everyday form of care. In the West, massage is often something we receive from another—usually for relaxation or pain relief. But in Ayurveda, Abhyanga is a daily ritual of self-love, connection, and nourishment. It is how we get to know our bodies—not by looking in the mirror or covering ourselves in products, but by using our own hands to touch, soothe, and honour.


As women, we’re often taught to dress ourselves up for others—makeup, clothing, fake tan, hair dye—but rarely are we encouraged to touch and connect with our own bodies in a tender, reverent way. In Abhyanga, we begin to reclaim that.


This ritual grounds the nervous system, improves circulation, nourishes the skin, and creates a sense of intimacy and safety within. It is sacred and sensual, soft and strong.


Isn’t it interesting how the threads of memory, practice, and presence often intertwine? As I was writing about the way we connect with our bodies—especially as women, who are often told to do monthly breast exams in a clinical, detached way—it occurred to me that practices like Abhyanga offer something more intuitive. When we regularly touch our own bodies with care and attention, we begin to know them deeply. Our fingers learn every curve, bump, and change. There’s no need to “schedule” awareness; it becomes part of how we live and feel.


And as I was thinking about that—about the simple act of brushing hands over our own skin, perhaps pausing at the chest where so many of us hold emotion, memory, or grief—a crow landed outside my window. Just for a moment. A little hello. A quiet presence. As many of you know, crows often remind me of my mother, who passed away from breast / lung cancer. The crow landing offered me a moment of deep pause—both gentle and powerful. Mum was a Taurus, it was her birthday only yesterday and here we are, wrapped in the energy of Taurus season, being reminded once again of how beautiful, meaningful, and preventative these soulful practices can be.








The Practice: A Loving Return to the Self


Here’s how I do it:

   •   Sit on a towel that you keep especially for this ritual. I sit cross-legged in front of my altar in the morning.

   •   Starting at your feet, work your way up the body in long strokes toward the heart. Use circular motions over joints.

   •   Massage from the toes to thighs, fingers to shoulders, and then move to the belly, chest, and back.

   •   Finish with your neck, face, and scalp — or skip the scalp if you’re not washing your hair that day.

   •   You can then sit for a few moments wrapped in a robe or blanket, allowing the oil to soak in. Sometimes I meditate here, letting the practice settle into my nervous system.

   •   When you’re ready, step into a warm shower and rinse without soap if you can — just warm water will do.


I don’t do this every single day. Some weeks I’ll do it twice, some three times. In the winter, when my skin is dry and my energy turns inward, I do it more often. It becomes a warm embrace — a comfort and a calming. But it is always in my weekly routine somewhere.


For Taurus season—where the themes of embodiment, slowness, and sensual presence rise to the surface—Abhyanga feels especially aligned. The practice is all about touch, texture, and tenderness. It reminds us that beauty begins with care, and that tending to our own skin can be as spiritual as it is physical. Whether done daily or a few times a week, Abhyanga is a powerful way to meet yourself where you are, with love




Reflection: Tending to the Body, Tending to the Self



As you explore the practice of Abhyanga, I invite you to take some time to gently reflect on your relationship with your body, your senses, and your self-care rituals.


These prompts are not about judgment or striving — they are an invitation to notice, to soften, and to return to yourself with love.


You may like to sit with a warm drink, light a candle, and let these questions guide a quiet moment of journaling:


  1. When was the last time I touched my own body with true care and tenderness, rather than judgment or detachment?

  2. How do I currently feel about the idea of massaging or nurturing my own body? What emotions arise?

  3. What textures, scents, or rituals make me feel most connected to my body and senses?

  4. In what ways could I create a more nourishing, sacred morning or evening ritual this season?

  5. What parts of my body feel easy to love right now? What parts are asking for more tenderness and attention?


Take your time. Let your answers come from a place of listening, not pressure. ( I am always avaialable to chat if you need support with this)


I would love to hear how this practice and reflection land for you.

Feel free to share your thoughts in our Inner Circle group, or simply hold them quietly as part of your own sacred journey.


With love,

Angela





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