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How to Choose What to Balance in a Kinesiology Session – A Guide for Students in Australia

  • Writer: Natalia Gavrilova
    Natalia Gavrilova
  • May 27
  • 14 min read

Updated: Jun 22


A young woman kinesiologist sits with a client, showing curiosity and attentive listening—key qualities to develop when studying kinesiology.
When studying kinesiology, learning to observe, pause, and be curious is just as important as learning the techniques.

By Natalia Gavrilova, Kinesiologist


The Question That Won’t Leave Us Alone -

how to decide what to balance in a session?(!)


“How do I know what to do with a client?” It’s one of the most common questions I hear from kinesiology students in Australia, especially when transitioning from study into private practice. I work as a kinesiology practitioner and a trainer at O’Neill Kinesiology College in Fremantle, Western Australia — and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this.

When you’re studying kinesiology, things feel structured in student clinic — each session follows the curriculum. But after graduation, the real world doesn’t come with a protocol. Every person is a mix of emotions, symptoms, beliefs, and old wounds. So how do you choose what to work on first in a balance?

Asking the client what they want is one option. Muscle testing is another. But both can feel unclear when we’re unsure ourselves. In my experience, learning how to set priorities in a kinesiology session is often the most important skill a practitioner can develop. That decision alone can take you halfway toward achieving the therapeutic goals.

Deciding what matters most is often the bulk of the work. That decision alone can take you halfway toward achieving the therapeutic goals.

There’s no one-size-fits-all formula. In this article, I want to reflect on what helps us decide how to help a client — and why that decision matters as much as the techniques we use. Having awareness of these factors can give you more clarity — not only about what to do, but more importantly, why.


Choosing Priorities in Kinesiology


There are two polarities in therapeutic thinking: mind over body and body over mind. In other words, if you’re working with a client experiencing depression, do you focus on their biochemistry — or talk to them about their childhood?

I’m not suggesting there’s one right answer. Both approaches have value. Both are deeply specialised. And kinesiologists, more than many other practitioners, are frequently asked to choose between them — because our modality spans both.


Mind over body

This approach aligns with the metaphysical belief that we create our reality with our mind. Neuroscience supports this to some degree: perception is highly subjective. We don’t passively receive reality; we edit what we hear and see, forget things that don’t fit our current emotional state, and interpret events through the lens of belief and desire.

Taken to the extreme, this approach promises that you can “think” your way to happiness. While there are benefits to this outlook, in practice, it doesn’t always deliver on that promise.


Body over mind

This is the view that when the body functions well, the mind will settle. And it’s often true. Digestive distress, parasites, joint inflammation, poor sleep, and nutritional deficiencies can all put the nervous system on high alert, creating constant anxiety.

But not all anxiety has physiological roots. Some clients — especially young, physically healthy ones — experience profound psychological distress stemming from trauma or existential crisis. In these cases, chasing down environmental or immune culprits might miss the point.

Of course, these are polarised examples meant to clarify the extremes. Our real task as practitioners is to find the shades of grey, and choose a starting point tailored to each client. That choice depends not only on your client, but also on your own lens — your beliefs about the body-mind continuum.

(For a deeper dive into the philosophical foundation of kinesiology and its place between science and phenomenology, check out The Truth About Kinesiology.)


My approach kinesiology session structure

Here, I’d like to share how I personally approach therapeutic decision-making. This is not a universal formula — it’s grounded in my values, my training, and my instincts.

My style leans toward the mind-over-body end of the spectrum. It’s based on three principles:

  1. being client-centred,

  2. non-directive, and

  3. relational.

Below is the detailed explanations of what it means.


Client-centred rather than problem-centred kinesiology approach

I don’t see symptoms as existing in isolation from the person experiencing them. And often, the real problem isn’t the symptom itself — it’s the suffering caused by it.

That might sound like splitting hairs, but it’s not. There’s a profound difference between an event and the experience of that event. The event belongs to shared reality — it can be measured, diagnosed, labelled. The experience is deeply personal, filtered through the lens of a person’s perceptions, beliefs, history, and expectations.


There’s a profound difference between an event and the experience of that event. Two people might have the same injury, but their experiences of it — emotionally, mentally, energetically — can be worlds apart.

Take pain, for example. Two people might have the same injury, but their experiences of it — emotionally, mentally, energetically — can be worlds apart. Just like we all know what “red” is, but we can’t assume we experience it the same way. Language gives us a shared label, but it doesn’t guarantee a shared reality.


It’s a common misconception that if a client presents with condition X, you must use the procedure for this condition.

Example from my practice. So when someone comes to see me, I don’t just see a condition — I meet a person having a condition. Their focus is often not the clinical facts of what’s wrong, but how it feels. What it means. How it limits or frustrates or frightens them.

I think of a client who recently came to me after visiting a top neurosurgeon for a complex neurological condition. She didn’t question his medical expertise — he knew exactly what he was doing — but she left the consultation feeling invisible. As if her condition was acknowledged, but she wasn’t. He addressed the brain pathology, but not the woman living with it. As a kinesiologist, I don’t try to compete with a surgeon’s understanding of anatomy or pathology — that’s not my lane. Yes, I need a solid working knowledge of the body. Advantage of my approach lies in tuning into the person’s whole system — their emotions, their energy, their beliefs, their sense of self.

When you're studying kinesiology, it’s easy to assume that if a client presents with condition X, you must use the procedure for that condition. But working with the whole person often means the most relevant procedures aren’t just those directly linked to the named condition. They’re the ones that speak to how the person is experiencing the condition: emotionally, physically, energetically. (To understand how emotional healing unfolds within a kinesiology framework, see my article Feel It to Heal It.)

In this client’s case, the work we did wasn’t targeted at her brain, even though her diagnosis was neurological. Yes, I understood the basics of her pathology — but I didn’t limit myself to brain-focused procedures. I worked with her emotional state, the physical side effects of surgery, the exhaustion, the sense of disconnection. I supported her in processing fear and frustration, rebuilding her appetite, finding motivation, restoring her sense of self.

The condition was real, but the experience of it was so much bigger than just the medical facts. That’s where kinesiology can make a meaningful difference — by recognising and responding to the person as a whole.


Multiple issues. I try not to get lost in lists of symptoms. When someone presents with multiple complaints — achy joints, back pain, indigestion, poor sleep — it can feel like you’re dealing with four different clients at once: Arthritis, Lordosis, IBS, and Insomnia. It’s easy for your mind to scatter, to start mentally lining up protocols and procedures for each separate issue.

When I catch myself doing that, I come back to the client. I ask:

  • How is she experiencing these conditions? 

  • What does she believe about them?

  • What story is she telling herself — and what story is her body telling us?

That’s the moment kinesiology becomes something more than a body-focused method. It becomes an enquiry — into experience, emotion, belief, and relationship. Into the way a symptom shapes someone’s inner world, and the way their inner world, in turn, shapes their symptoms.



A thoughtful woman in a client session reflects the inner decision-making involved in studying kinesiology and choosing therapeutic approaches.
Studying kinesiology means learning to navigate the relational space, keeping the balance between leading and listening .

Non-directive rather than authoritative relating to kinesiology clients

In my practice, observation and listening take centre stage. I try not to come in with a set agenda, because when I do, my attention starts tracking the session like a train on rails: “Are we getting to where I planned?”That mindset closes off spontaneity and the ability to listen without judgement or expectations. The more directive I become, the less room there is for the client’s voice. The session risks becoming something I do to clients, rather than with them.

Being non-directive doesn’t mean being unprepared — it means being prepared for multiple possibilities. I let the client show me where they want to go. Whether they’re decisive or hesitant, articulate or shy, those traits inform how we work. Some clients want a firm hand; others want to lead. I adjust my level of guidance based on their personality and preferences. It’s not a default — it’s a negotiated dynamic calibrated for best effect.


Being non-directive doesn’t mean being unprepared — it means being prepared for multiple possibilities.

This is where the distinction between non-directive and authoritative becomes especially relevant. An authoritative approach is when the practitioner takes the lead — giving specific instructions, advising the client on how to improve their life, and directing the course of the therapeutic process. This style is absolutely appropriate for many highly specialised modalities, where healing depends on expert knowledge the client may not have.

But the central principle of kinesiology is different: it’s a client-led experience. It starts with the idea that each person already holds the insight and capacity to find their unique point of balance — physically, emotionally, and energetically.


The central principle of kinesiology is that it is a client-led experience.

I see my role as supporting that process, not directing it. I believe the client is the true authority in their own life, and I try to align my professional approach with that principle as closely as I can.

After session practices. That said, there’s a fine line between supporting and steering. For example, giving clients "homework" — like meditations or self-awareness exercises — can easily slip into giving advice, which shifts the dynamic toward a more directive style.

And while these take-home tools aren’t inherently bad (some people genuinely like them), I believe they should be offered sparingly and intentionally. Sometimes, a small practice helps sustain the connection with the session and gives the healing process space to deepen. Other times, it can feel like just another task — or worse, imply that the client isn't already whole.

Learning to sense when support is truly helpful and when it becomes noise is part of the art. It’s one of the ways I adjust the level of "directiveness" depending on each client’s needs, preferences, and readiness.


 I believe the client is the true authority in their own life. My role is holding a space where their own clarity can emerge.

For example, when I give clients flower essence affirmations, I always ask whether the words resonate with them — and whether they’d like to take the printout home. If I skip that step, it can subtly suggest that the success of the treatment depends on them completing something they don’t relate to, simply for the sake of compliance. It shifts the focus away from the client listening inward and becoming aware of their own feelings — and toward performing a ritual that may feel empty.

That shift matters. It’s the difference between helping someone deepen their connection to themselves and asking them to act out something that doesn’t quite fit.


In the end, my work isn’t about directing someone’s healing — it’s about holding a space where their own clarity can emerge. The less I arrive with an agenda, the more room there is for their unique process to unfold. That’s what makes each session not just effective, but deeply human.


A woman with closed eyes, surrounded by colorful swirls, evokes the inner world that becomes familiar terrain when studying kinesiology.
Relational insight is a central theme when studying kinesiology—not everything is in the textbook.

Relational therapy - The Client Is the Map


When we’re alone, we can imagine ourselves to be anything. We can believe we’re endlessly patient, unshakably kind, generous, wise. Nothing’s challenging that self-image. But as soon as we’re in relationship — with a partner, a colleague, a child, a parent — the truth starts to leak out. Our blind spots show. Our patterns activate.

The way we relate tells the real story.

That’s why I see the therapeutic relationship not just as a frame for the work, but as the work itself. People are relational beings — we can’t feel fully real in isolation. And in the presence of another, especially in a safe and attentive space, something meaningful begins to unfold.


The therapeutic relationship is unlike family, friendship, or romance — and yet it shares something essential with all of them: it’s a human-to-human connection. And when it’s grounded in safety, presence, and curiosity, it can become a space for profound healing.

It’s hard to feel our own boundaries, contradictions, or stuck places until someone else is there — listening, reflecting, staying with us. That’s when the edges appear. And as therapists, we can learn a lot by simply observing how clients show up in relationship: how they talk about themselves, how they respond to being seen, how they navigate closeness and distance.


The therapeutic relationship is unlike family, friendship, or romance — and yet it shares something essential with all of them: it’s a human-to-human connection. And when it’s grounded in safety, presence, and curiosity, it can become a space for profound healing.

After all, trauma doesn’t float in a vacuum. It often originates in relationship — in disconnection, neglect, or betrayal. So it makes sense that healing, too, must happen in relationship. We may not always find it in our everyday lives — not everyone has the luck of stumbling into a naturally therapeutic friendship or partnership. But in a clinical setting, the therapeutic relationship can be intentionally designed to offer what was missing: steadiness, respect, responsiveness, care.


(For an exploration of how kinesiology works with emotional stress, you might like Kinesiology for Stress Relief.)


Where energetic kinesiology can make a meaningful difference is by recognising and responding to the person as a whole, not just the symptoms or diagnosis.

I often find that the dynamics between me and my client reveal more than any intake form. Not because I’m psychoanalysing them, but because I’m listening relationally. I’m attuned not just to what they say, but to how it feels to sit with them. The shifts, the hesitations, the openings.

Understanding pathology has its place, of course — but for me, it sits within a larger field: the relational field. That’s the background in which everything else becomes meaningful. Whether or not I name it out loud, it’s always there, shaping the work.


Choosing priorities in kinesiology. My tips for kinesiology students in Australia

As I said earlier — this is just my approach. There are many valid paths. The diversity of styles and perspectives is part of what makes kinesiology such a rich and evolving field.

So rather than offering a template, I offer a reflection:


Where will you begin? 

At the body end of the spectrum? The mind end?

Or somewhere in between?


If your lens is more body-first:

  1. Identify the physical issue.

  2. Understand the physiology.

  3. Choose the appropriate procedure.

  4. Follow the treatment protocol consistently.


If your lens is more mind-first:

  1. Understand the person, not just the condition.

  2. Meet them where they are.

  3. Choose a procedure that fits this moment.

  4. Stay consistent in relationship, even when the techniques shift.


This is where a practitioner must zoom in and ask:


What exactly is my role with this client? What am I offering?


Some kinesiologists also practise herbalism, naturopathy, or have deep knowledge of hormonal systems. Their sessions might revolve more around the physical or biochemical needs of the body. Others might focus more on emotional processing, belief systems, or life transitions.

Both approaches can be deeply supportive — but knowing clearly in what way you’re helping makes a difference. It makes the session more focused. It builds confidence. It also makes it easier to choose procedures that are genuinely relevant, not just theoretically correct.

Instead of defaulting to "what the issue requires," you’re guided by a deeper understanding of what your presence is offering. That clarity, in itself, is therapeutic.



Hands placed gently on a client’s forehead, showing a technique that may be encountered when studying kinesiology methods for emotional release.
Studying kinesiology includes hands-on methods—but what guides them is intuitive clarity and therapeutic skill.

So… what to do in a kinesiology session?


We’ve covered the principles — but what about the moment you’re sitting across from your client, unsure what to do next?

Here are some questions to explore.



What kind of practitioner are you becoming?


Are you drawn to symptoms, systems, or people?


Some practitioners come to kinesiology from other fields — nutrition, bodywork, counselling. Their style builds on that foundation. Others are new, still finding their voice. Ask yourself what originally drew you to this work. That clue points toward your unique style.

There’s no wrong answer — but knowing your orientation gives you stability.


Don’t rush the process — get to know your client. Therapeutic Curiosity and Relational Awareness


Trust builds over time. There is no wasted time — that’s the therapy. Whether you’re exploring the interrelatedness of symptoms through physiology, or focusing more on emotional than physical issues, you need time to get to know your client. Expecting a one-session miracle sets you up for frustration.

If, like me, you work in a relational style, ask yourself:

  • How do I feel around this person?

  • What’s happening between us?

  • What are they showing me about how they relate?

Notice these are not questions about your client — they are about you. Your client isn’t an object to analyse, but a person to relate to. To truly relate, you need to know yourself — so you can tell what belongs to you, and what belongs to them. Who we are shapes what we notice.


Their effect on you is not a distraction — it’s a source of valuable information about both them and yourself.

The relationship is the mirror. When distortion shows up, that’s where we can spot the “glitch in the matrix” — a moment of inauthenticity, a block to connection. And that’s often where the real work begins.


When Symptoms Compete for Attention. How to choose client priorities in an energetic kinesiology session?

Clients often present with multiple issues: reflux, back pain, conflict with mum. So where do you start?

If you’re body-oriented, you might begin by analysing homeostatic processes. The body is constantly scanning for imbalance, sending that information to central regulators (like the hypothalamus and pituitary gland), and issuing corrective signals in response. That feedback loop is what maintains internal stability. Your job is to hypothesise where the breakdown begins, and how the imbalance flows through the system. What’s the first domino to fall? What’s the chain of command? (If you’re curious about how kinesiology addresses physical symptoms like pain, read Can Energetic Kinesiology Help Physical Pain?.)


Ask yourself what originally drew you to this work. That clue points toward your unique style.

If you work more in the relational or emotional field, your attention might go to the dynamics of interaction. What does your client seem eager to show? What are they hiding? And if they can’t name a priority — don’t guess. Feel.

Ask yourself:

  • What’s showing up most strongly in the session today?

  • Is this more physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual?

  • What’s happening between us right now?



From Procedure to Presence

Kinesiology is powerful — not just because of its techniques, but because it taps into the intelligence of the client’s subconscious. At its heart, it’s about the quality of the therapeutic relationship and your ability to stay present with the unknown until something meaningful emerges.

That’s why it’s important not to assume that using the “right” procedure automatically leads to effective results — or that more information always brings deeper change. The real catalyst — the thing that turns a technique into healing, and insight into transformation — is the synergy between practitioner and client.

In the end, it’s not about choosing the perfect protocol. It’s about making a real difference.

We live in an age overflowing with advice, how-to videos, and expert content. What’s in short supply is sincere human connection. Presence. Touch. These, I believe, are what make kinesiology not only unique — but profoundly effective.

(You can also read more about how energetic kinesiology integrates tools from many different disciplines in Myths About Kinesiology.)


Practicing the Art of Not-Knowing

In energetic kinesiology, the real skill lies in staying open and present—listening without jumping to fix, trusting the body’s own intelligence, and navigating complexity without clinging to protocol. In my experience, the question of “what to do with the client?” doesn’t go away. I redefine it for myself at every stage of my professional development and every time when my relationship with a client enters a new phase.

When we shift from directing change to discovering it alongside the client, kinesiology becomes not just a modality—but a practice of relational presence. And that question that won’t leave us alone? It becomes our best teacher.



Natalia Gavrilova, kinesiologist in Fremantle, Perth, Western Australia


Natalia Gavrilova – your local kinesiologist in Fremantle (Perth, WA)


This article was written by Natalia Gavrilova, a kinesiologist based in Fremantle and working with clients from across Perth, Western Australia. I specialise in the emotional and energetic aspects of kinesiology and write to help people understand how this gentle, holistic therapy can support real change.


💬 You’re welcome to get in touch here.


🌱 If you’re new to kinesiology and curious about how it works, visit my introductory page.


👩‍⚕️ Want to know more about me and my background? Here’s my story.


Кинезиология — это мягкий, целостный метод, который помогает восстановить внутренний баланс, освободиться от стресса и глубже понять свои потребности.


Меня зовут Наталья Гаврилова, я кинезиолог из Фримантла (Перт, Западная Австралия). На этой странице я рассказываю, как проходят мои сеансы, с чем я могу помочь и почему кинезиология становится всё более популярной в работе с эмоциональными, физическими и энергетическими трудностями.


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