Dinner at the Kokoro Salon

(Guest post by writer Tay Hui Zhen)

I had dinner with Lynnette the other night.

“Come over to my place,” she graciously offered. Unsure of where in town we could settle in for a long chat, I accepted her suggestion with enthusiasm. I was deep in the pensive throes of a mid-career transition, deciding whether it was worthwhile to pursue accreditation in an obscure field. So naturally, I was eager to speak with someone who had 'crossed a similar bridge' and taken the road less travelled.

My primary question for Lynnette that evening was, in essence, “What made you do what you are doing right now, and how did you get there?” It was my hope that, in listening to her thought process, I would gain clarity and courage for mine.

I arrived at 7.35pm, just as her part-time cleaners left the house. “You are just on time,” she remarked as she began to prepare the ingredients for the night’s dish—puttanesca pasta. “It’s super simple and usually turns out quite ok,” she assured me. “This is so healthy, and on brand for you,” I quipped. We had been primary schoolmates after all, and only reconnected in recent years after I found out about her brave and solo endeavour, kokoro salon. “You were always eating fruits in P3, lah. Everyone would bring bread and biscuits for recess but you were so intentional and health-conscious already, at that age.” I remember being deeply impressed and thinking that it must be the natural outcome of having a mother who was a doctor.

A Christmas card from Lynnette in 2003. We weren’t super close as classmates but she often made it a point to send cards on special occasions, which I keep till this day.

I couldn’t wait to dive into my long list of questions for Lynnette so we chatted even as she busied herself preparing the colourful, nutritious dish. She readily fielded my questions, from the larger ‘why’s—“At what point did you decide that, okay, I will be a Lilynage instructor?”—to the more technical inquiries like “How long did it take for you to get accredited?” and “How did you manage your full-time job and part-time study?”

Nurturing conversation with a nourishing meal: puttanesca pasta with salad

I also asked Lynnette if she felt like giving up at any point in time, during the 6-month Lilynage course. She cheerfully said no. The realisation that she needed to pivot came quite early for her, as she struggled to enjoy her undergraduate studies in Medicine. While her peers took pride in memorising complex medical jargon and learning about various solutions to inject in various veins, the topics were just so dry to her, despite her love for studying. So the thought of having to be a doctor for life frustrated her. 

“I would have done it [the Lilynage accreditation] earlier if not for COVID travel restrictions!” Lynnette exclaimed, as she recounted how she dipped her toes into the world of Lilynage by first joining the course as a participant herself in Japan. She later signed up for an ambassador course, which enabled her to conduct basic lessons for close friends and family.

But reaching this level of certainty took much, much longer. “I tried many things at first, like ceramics. Before that, I wanted to make jewellery… I even tried sewing… then I went on to do aromatherapy...” What seemed to her like a lack of focus was, in fact, inspiring to me. “It’s so cool that you just bravely went to try whatever interests you,” I remarked. And all these new experiences invigorated her indeed, opening her up to a world beyond clinical settings. The varied creative forays sparked new life in her and provided an outlet from the rigid schedules, administrative workload and patient management stress faced by junior doctors.

After broadening her horizons, it was then time to narrow down her options. “How did you decide on Lilynage instead of other massage training programmes?” I asked. For her, it was a lot about finding an academy or school that aligned with her values. “The right match matters,” she said, as she recalled how she felt hurried to complete a particular ikebana course because the teacher couldn’t wait to be the “teacher of the foreign teacher.” 

Reflecting on the evolution of her current practice as well as the footsteps of peers who went on to open studios shortly after learning a new craft, she poignantly admits, “There’s a tendency in me to want to rush things, yet I realise how important ‘lived experience’ is in many of these healing modalities. Take counselling for example. The best counsellors are perhaps not always those with the highest accreditation, but those who have the humility to really reflect on and improve their practice.” So, a growth mindset for excellence then.

As she topped up our pot of yuzu tea and bit into some chestnut snacks I brought from Japan (my valiant attempt to appeal to the self-confessed Japanophile), Lynnette shared how she immediately gravitated to Lily and her community from the start. Apart from the occasional language barrier (Lynnette is fluent in Japanese but still struggles to type more complex expressions in the language), their shared Asian identity bonded them, as she recognised and resonated with the cultural sensibilities and struggles they both experienced.

In their stories, she found inspiration for her own life, and strength to persevere in areas she was lacking confidence in. Whether it was the simple aspiration to improve one’s physical health, or failing to lose weight after trying numerous diets, or discovering oneself again after a divorce, and trying to get pregnant after years of infertility—listening to the other trainees’ hopes and dreams nourished Lynnette from within and reminded her about what a simple touch can do in first changing a person’s momentary countenance, then eventual trajectory and outlook on life.

I chose this moment to confront the proverbial elephant in the room. “Don’t most people associate massage therapy or being a masseuse with blue-collar work? How do you deal with these perceptions, especially since doctors are considered to be the most elite of white-collar professions?” Barely flinching, she said she had never thought of masseurs as being ‘blue-collar’, and in fact considered it to be a reputable vocation. “There is a range,” she adds, as I thought of the $40 foot reflex uncles alongside the famous Bastien Gonzalez, known for his trademark dry manicures which are highly sought after by celebrities like Oprah Winfrey. The in-house practitioners at high-end wellness resorts, such as Lanserhof and other ‘bio hotels’ in Austria, also probably draw a handsome monthly pay. 

I pressed on and brought up another sensitive topic. “How do you think Lilynage fits in the whole body-positive discourse? What if a participant doesn’t want to slim down and simply hopes to love her body more?” She thoughtfully responds, “That’s interesting because it reminds me how every customer is unique. Some ladies are very particular about their waistlines, and I’m happy to help them with that too. But ultimately, it’s about self-love and being comfortable in one’s skin.”

A special Christmas tea she organised in 2024 for some Lilynage participants. Building and nurturing a close-knit community is a big aspect of Lynnette’s practice.

We closed the night with me sharing my own fears about becoming a facilitator. “I’m not naturally charismatic, nor am I loud enough to command a room. If 20 ladies were to walk through your door right now, I don’t think any of them would bother listening to me speak.” She offered a different perspective and said, “Well, you’re making many assumptions about these ladies for a start. Let’s say they sign up for the course you are conducting and you are an expert on it, then I’m sure they’ll be attentive and even listen hard to what you have to say, even if you say it quietly.” I felt comforted instantly, and was thankful for her encouragement. 

The typical Singaporean in me then added, “How about your parents? What did they say when you decided to do this Lilynage thing?” Somehow, it never occurred to Lynnette to seek approval for something she had so much interest in. That quiet confidence lingered with me. It made me think about my own hesitations, and the weight of expectations I couldn’t quite shake. It was time to borrow a bit of her bravery. “I’m looking into a dark tunnel right now,” I confessed. “It’s scary but exciting. I could turn back to another, brightly lit tunnel. That is something I’m comfortable and familiar with, but filled with thorns.” “Then why would you even want to go through the bright tunnel?” she exclaimed.

That night, I left her house with many nuggets of wisdom and was excited to take my next step. I reminded myself of the many, many ‘next steps’ Lynnette boldly took to get to where she is with Kokoro Salon. She humbly shared that things are far from ideal, and how she is working on some plans to get to where she wants her business to be. But oh, what a beautiful space she is in right now—a space where she is free to create something entirely hers, empower others, and do something she loves wholeheartedly.  

My reunion with Lynnette at Omote, 22 years after we first met in SCGS.

Huizhen is a freelance writer and friend of Lynnette. She is currently on a sabbatical busy doing things on a whim, like writing this article. You can read more of her work at https://substack.com/@ironhope