Laura van Tatenhove, a seasoned Bowen therapist with over 16 years of experience, brings her unique perspective to the fascinating interplay of science, art, and holistic health.
In this blog, Laura takes us on a journey into the profound mysteries of the human body, exploring the delicate balance between what we know and what we experience. Through her recounting of a recent hands-on dissection workshop, she draws parallels between the maps we create to understand the body and the lived reality of its intricate systems. Laura’s reflections are not only insightful but also inspiring, offering a fresh lens through which to view Bowen Therapy and its profound impact.

A fortnight ago, I was working with a client and I made a move over her left latissimus dorsi at the level of her armpit. My intention was to release a line of tension between her shoulder and sacrum. Hopefully I helped with this, but what was more fascinating was the client’s observation that her right sinus had completely cleared after this particular adjustment.
I am coming up to 16 years studying and practising Bowen Therapy and this therapy never ceases to amaze me and keep me curious about all things body.
The Bowen Therapy ‘moves’ (gentle, cross fibre and punctuated with breaks) are anomalous. This means they deviate somewhat from what is standard, normal or expected in many other hands-on therapies. And yet, as a remedial and preventative therapy, it is extremely effective and aligned with much of the recent research into fascia, nervous system repair and regulation, the therapeutic pause and certain discoveries in neuroscience. As well as thousands of testimonials, there are research papers testifying to its efficacy for asthma, hamstring flexibility, TMJ function, frozen shoulder, migraine and much more.
And yet, even with all these ‘certifications’ and ‘character references’ the way in which the changes happen in a Bowen Therapy treatment and the pathways that the body takes to enable such changes remain somewhat mysterious and revelatory. I mean, I am yet to see an anatomy book that shows me why an adjustment of a muscle under the arm pit would clear the nasal passages.
There are suggestions, suppositions, guesses and theories – but no clear diagram that definitively proves the relationship of the left lat to the right sinus, or why this clearing happens with one person and not another. What we have instead are the embodied and living experiences of our individual clients (and in the case of my client, someone who can blow their nose again!).


I took these 2 photos of the sinus cavities at The Plastinarium. I use these wonderful images to demonstrate the brilliant design and function of the sinuses and as a way of illustrating the importance of nasal breathing. It also helps me explain the importance of good tongue position for breathing and palate development and how mouth breathing can detrimentally affect our respiration, nervous system and much more.
This recent Bowen Therapy experience reminds of the saying ‘the map is not the territory”
This is a phrase first coined by the Polish American philosopher and engineer Alfred Korzybski (1879-1950). He used it to describe the difference between the actual world and our understanding of it. It communicates how our mental (and visual) models of the world (whether they be an anatomy book or a map of Italy), are not the same as the world itself. They remain an abstraction of reality and do not capture all the intricacies and nuances of life, such as the variation in weather or terrain, or the smells, sounds and textures of things.
They also omit the complexity of relationship and the richness and wealth of our felt experiences. It’s not that the maps are wrong, but rather that we mistake the visual and literal representations and measurements of the world, the body, etc. as fact. They are more than a system of diagrams that have been edited with particular biases which are simplified, categorised and popularised over time. More than what’s made to suit the status quo and passed down through our education systems, professional organisations and popular culture.
Last November I attended a hands-on human dissection workshop with Fascia Focussed Anatomy Labs at The Plastinarium, in Guben, Germany.

This workshop reminded me of the profundity of Korzybski’s words. In the workshop we explored the Temporo-Mandibular Joint and the Respiratory System, which is a particular interest of mine. Attendees included incredibly knowledgable and skilled practitioners including dentists, anatomists, physiotherapists, lymphatic and vagus nerve specialists, yoga teachers, maternal care practitioners, Bowen therapists, fascialists and chiropractors.
Over the course of a week, our donated form, Albert, gifted us with an opportunity to explore the relationship of jaw and tongue position to posture, the wonders of the sinuses, the relationship of the vagus and phrenic nerve to breathing, and so much more.
We referred to a lot of ‘maps’ over the course of the week; photographs and drawings and diagrams and 3d models and videos of the respiratory system.
With those in mind, we set out to compare what we knew, or thought we knew, with the three-dimensional, human tissue reality that was Albert. Thanks to the immensely talented and dedicated dissectors participating on this workshop, we saw all the breathing structures, supporting tissues and fascial connections first hand and in a radically new way.
As the week went on we set our dissections up against the images from the books. Then, with our deeper understanding and more expansive knowledge, we contrasted and compared what we were seeing with the diagrams, photographs, and 3D models. We were able to recognise and affirm some aspects, whilst also disputing and re-drawing other parts.
By the end of the week we had, as a group, developed new ideas and created alternate maps of the breathing body.
We were able to describe them using different words – or the same words, but in new ways. In most circles – and a large part of the world – we call this progress; the movement to ever more accurate and detailed diagrams, maps, statistics and models which we take on board to be the markers of truth. And if a surgeon was about to operate on my heart, I REALLY want them to be familiar with the latest ‘maps’.
However, according to Korzybski, the problem with this approach is that the maps or models are not reality, and they keep going out of date. This leaves us with either an insatiable appetite for all there is yet to know, or in an anxiety inducing position where we are always playing ‘catch up’ with the latest information and research.
To give you a visual idea of what I mean by this, here are a few images that demonstrate different ‘maps’ of the respiratory system. I’ve noted some of the benefits and limitations of each diagram and how they may impact on our understanding our own bodies and what happens when we breathe.



Fig. 1: For many this would be a very familiar image of the respiratory system with all the connecting structures clearly labelled. The different colours differentiate one section from another giving a segmented view of the body.
Fig. 2: Leonardo da Vinci c.1508. Early images of the respiratory system prioritise the lungs over any of the other breathing structures. The trajectory of breath and its relationship with other structures are absent.
Fig. 3: Here the respiratory system is seen in relationship with the circulation system. We have a better idea here perhaps of how our breath affects our whole body.
As well as collectively re-drawing our anatomy maps we each had our own personal experiences with Albert. These were moments when our responses to what we were seeing were not defined by the map, when we let go of what we thought to be true, and immersed ourselves in that space where there isn’t a diagram to refer to.
This is what Korzybski is referring to when he uses the word ‘territory’; those precious moments of real presence and intimacy, when time stops and space is limitless.
“For me it happened when I held the silky smooth cartilaginous spirals of the sinus cavities. I uncurled them with my thumb and then let them close in around my fingers. And when I teased apart, like a gardener, the brittle bronchioles within Albert’s tar stained lungs.”
It occurred when I draped the diaphragm across my forearms and when I cradled the pituitary gland in the centre of my palm. Most of all it happened when I drew. When my focus was entirely on following the lines and shapes and contours of Albert with my eyes and pencil, regardless of whether my drawing ‘looked’ like the jaw, the lungs, the rib cage or the vagus nerve.


Laura van Tatenhove, Albert, pencil on paper, 15 x 30 cm, 2024Laura van Tatenhove, Albert, pencil on paper, 15 x 30 cm, 2024
Under my gaze, Albert, whose lungs were in a terrible condition and suggested a severely compromised respiration system, did not look like any anatomy pictures I had ever seen.
Instead, I was reminded of an Australian landscape, earthy, fired and airy with a charred ,driftwood quality, both angular and rhythmic. As I drew him I was flooded with memories of childhood holidays camping by the sea, barefoot, sunburnt and salty.


Laura van Tatenhove, Albert, pencil on paper, 15 x 30 cm, 2024Laura van Tatenhove, Albert, pencil on paper, 15 x 30 cm, 2024
I am no stranger to the anxieties related to not knowing enough, being out of date with my knowledge (the latest version of the map) and comparing myself with others. But, this is all the more reason why I hold-on tight to my hands-on Bowen Therapy work and creating art.
Whilst the diagrams and models serve a very valuable purpose, (especially if you are a surgeon!) my therapy and visual arts practises provide me with a qualitatively different way of understanding and appreciating the human body. Ultimately, one which is more about what I don’t know and am yet to discover.
~ Laura Van Tatenhove
Laura’s upcoming Courses
Find out more about Laura and see what courses and workshops she has coming up by visiting her tutor page.