Reflections from ZB Expanded: Addressing the Skull
I recently shared with a fellow bodyworker that I had just attended a workshop: Zero Balancing Expanded: Addressing the Skull. She quietly asked, “How much training do you need?” I smiled and replied, “I can’t get enough.”
There is something profoundly special about the Zero Balancing community. Dr. Fritz Frederick Smith, the founder, gifted the world a new paradigm of touch—one that honors the whole human being: body, energy, psyche, and spirit. His vision opened the doorway to a kind of quiet transformation that is as deep as it is gentle.
Within this paradigm, a golden thread flows through the ZB community—connecting teacher to student, student to student, practitioner to client. Each time I enter a workshop, I am reminded of this lineage of care and the rare spaciousness it brings. This time, that thread brought me especially into relationship with the cranial bones of my own skull.
This workshop was led by Judith Sullivan, senior faculty member of the Zero Balancing Health Association and one of the early students of Dr. Fritz Smith. Judith has spent decades teaching and practicing ZB, carrying forward Fritz’s vision with wisdom, warmth, and extraordinary skill. I feel very fortunate to have studied with her. Together we explored the anatomy and “secrets” of the skull—the minute movements between cranial bones, their reflections in the sacrum, and the stories they might hold. My favorite? The sphenoid.
The sphenoid is a butterfly-shaped bone located in the middle of the skull, just behind the eyes and between the temples. Often called the “keystone bone” of the cranium, it touches nearly every other cranial bone: frontal, temporal, parietal, occipital, ethmoid, and several of the facial bones.
Because of its position, the sphenoid has wide-reaching relationships in the body. The optic nerves pass right through it, tying it closely to vision. Its connection with the temporal bones brings it into relationship with the ears and balance. It also meets the facial bones, influencing how the jaw rests and moves. And in its center, the sphenoid cradles the pituitary gland—the tiny “master gland” of the endocrine system.
No wonder it’s called the “keystone” of the cranium. When the sphenoid finds ease, the whole skull seems to breathe differently.
How does one even contact this bone? With the lightest, most intentional touch… almost like a Vulcan mind meld.
On the second day, I felt firsthand the significance of working with this bone. After a practice exchange, I carried a residue of pressure in the center of my skull that lingered into the next morning. Something had been activated. The heaviness expanded and I knew I needed help. We were about to begin another round of practice exchanges involving light cranial touch, but my arms and hands felt so heavy that I asked if we could work there first. Judith kindly invited me onto her table.
She met my body and energy with such presence. The body often knows when it is on the verge of something—and with proper support, it allows release. At this time my head was ringing, especially in my ears. I shared this, and Judith responded with a verbal fulcrum: “Who yelled at you?” Tears began to flow, my legs trembled. I replied, “Mom and Dad are so loud. They won’t stop screaming and fighting.”
I was reminded that I am safe now. For ten more minutes, my body released through tears, whimpers, and waves of vibration. Eventually, I quieted. Judith gently closed the session and tapped my shoulders: “Congratulations—you have a new nervous system.”
I don’t know what happened, exactly. I felt foggy, bulldozed. I slowly got off the table and walked outside to a patch of sunlight. My ears felt different—more open, more receptive. I sat on the grass, listening to bird chatter and the cheerful song of a cricket, as if it were greeting me into a new day.
I could try to put a story around what happened, but perhaps that misses the point. Some moments of healing can’t be explained—they’re simply lived, felt, and integrated. All I knew in the days that followed was that I needed rest. Four full days before I felt like I returned to a new baseline of being.
This is something I remind my clients after every session: tune into your body. Listen to what it needs. Healing isn’t just what happens on the table; it’s also the integration afterward. For me, this time, the body asked for stillness.
This class was once called The Secrets of the Skull, and now I know why. Working with the bones has taught me that they are not just structure, but story. They carry echoes of what we’ve lived through—and with skilled support, they can also open into space and freedom. This is what Zero Balancing offers: a way to listen to the bones.
This is why I return, again and again, to training and to community. Each workshop reminds me that healing is not something we do alone. It flows through touch, through presence, through the golden thread that connects teacher to student, practitioner to client, body to spirit. Every time we enter that field, we are supported—not just by the person beside us, but by the lineage of care that holds us all. ❤︎