Category: pain

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Sharing Pain

An important question surfaced recently that I wanted to share with you.

It’s really more of a confession of sorts because I don’t feel it casts me in the greatest light. But I’m committed to telling my story as is, rather than what I want others to think it is. At least, that’s what I try to do.

My question is this…why do I feel a need to share about my physical pains with others?

Surely, they have their own. Do they really need to hear about mine? And I wonder, will it turn into a contest of whose pains are worse, a game that seeks to constantly up the ante?

Telling another about my pains and suffering might be okay if someone specifically asked me and wanted to know. Or if I was at a medical office, and they needed to understand my story in order to provide helpful solutions.

But ordinarily, do others need to be bothered by my list of aches and pains? I’m pretty sure they don’t.

If I’m paying close enough attention though, I hear my words and recognize I’m sharing my pains and sorrows and most of the time it’s unsolicited.

I encourage myself to sit back and open to what fills the silence. I allow myself to let everything come in, no matter how it feels.

Here’s what happens.

A series of answers march forth, one after the other, trying to educate me.

First to appear is a sense that I am asking for others sympathy, as if that will provide me with some useful energy. I’ve discovered, it doesn’t.

Next is a feeling that some part of me needs to complain, to say how hard I have it and how unfair it all is, in an attempt to elicit empathy or sympathy. Occasionally it works, but seriously, how often do others want to have to provide this to me. Afterall, they have their own issues and concerns and probably need the same thing from me.

Other times, I have a desire to be released from my pains and sorrows and am looking for legitimate opinions and suggestions from others on how to accomplish this. I need relief. But one thing I’ve noticed about myself is that I don’t always listen to what they have to say, or I listen and yet fail to do the things that might make my situation better.

This seems ridiculous to me. To receive great advice then disregard it…what sense does that make? Not much.

I wonder to myself, could there be something valuable in divulging my conditions? Might it open a door to a worthwhile conversation with someone, something beyond ‘misery loves company’?

It struck me that if I was open and sensitive to others, I might find some common ground, some territory to have a meaningful discussion, one that might go beyond physical issues. It might transcend the usual dialogue and delve into areas of commonality. We might be able to talk about our genuine feelings about our physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual lives.

That felt very different to me. Beautiful, in fact.

Maybe it’s not about what I share, but how I share. Perhaps it’s about coming from a place of compassion and love, rather than a place of need and fear. I think that next time I’m going to try to keep this in mind and rather than coming from fear I will seek to come from love, the source of all good things in life

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The Upside of Physical Pain

Do you believe it is possible that physical pain could provide you with any benefits?

This may seem like a trick question at first. It’s not. I really want to know what you think and what you believe.

Sure, some physical pains might make you want to see your doctor, so they can diagnose your condition and offer you some appropriate remedies. Remedies that help you recover from the physical pain before it becomes a more significant problem. But what about all the lesser pains, the ones you’re tempted to ignore or try to cover over? Is there possibly a message in any of them for you? And if so, how do you discover what the messages are?

I feel as though one of my approaches to this dilemma is somewhat unique. I haven’t talked about it a lot, so I don’t know if others do something similar.

Let me explain and you can see for yourself and then decide if it might make sense for you to try.

Many years ago, I had an insight that there are several different aspects within me, and they each have a voice. The aspects are physical, emotional, mental, spiritual and ego. I found it possible to isolate their individual points of view and was able to listen to their individual voices. I was also able to moderate their conversations so that I could gain firsthand insights.

As with so many things, it’s much better to share an example, rather than continue to try to explain how it works.

Recently the moderator (‘me’) began by saying that it was very difficult to trust my body because when aches and pains started to arrive, I felt betrayed by my body, especially if I’d done all of the things that my cultural trainers had told me to do (exercise, eat healthy, stay hydrated…you get the picture).

My physical ‘self’ responded immediately by saying, “It’s a curious thing that you should feel betrayed, because it is you who stopped caring about me and just assumed I would provide you with constant good health.”

It continued, “The choices you make have a profound impact on my ability to maintain good health. You’ve done some of the things your cultural trainers have recommended but you have ignored the most potent and important ally you have…ME. I ought to be the first one contacted to discuss any physical issues.”

I felt reprimanded by my physical voice.

I also heard the truth.

This IS what I have done throughout most of my life. For as long as I can remember, I have expected my body to maintain my health no matter what the circumstance. And when I get sick, am injured, or need medical attention, I feel my body has let me down.

So here is my physical ‘self’ speaking to me about ‘my’ being a large part of the problem. And I realize that I have allowed the pain I encounter to be blamed on my physical ‘self’, which clearly creates additional problems.

The conversation takes a dramatic turn when my physical body poses a question to me, “When was the last time you asked me what I need?”

I have no good answer. I haven’t been paying attention. I’m feeling apologetic and I want to know how to fix this.

My physical ‘self’ responds. “Trust is a two-way street. We both have to trust the other. We have to listen and then take action.”

I think I’m ready for this. I wonder if the presence of physical pain in my life is an attempt to grab my attention, like waving a big red flag, one I can’t possibly miss. I wonder if continuing this conversation will yield clarity and direction. That would certainly create an upside for me.

As with all things, it matters most what you ‘do’. I could continue to ignore my physical ‘self’ and assume it will provide constant good health or I can listen for the truth and take whatever actions it suggests.

I want clarity and I want a relationship with my physical ‘self’, so I am going to shift and pay better attention. I am going to check in with my body, both when I feel well and when I sense a need for healing.

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Losing Friends

Have you ever lost someone important to you?

Is there anyone who could say ‘no’ to this question? I cannot imagine this being the case, unless you are very, very young.

How can we cope with our sense of loss?

I realize everyone is different and no one approach will work for all, but I feel compelled to try to open some kind of door here. Certainly, for myself, but also for you, if that is something you desire.

Like many others, I have experienced a great deal of loss in my life. Some of it in dramatic fashion, some over prolonged time periods, some from a distance, some close up.

During a relatively short period of time, I lost my father, my best friend of forty years, my mother-in-law, two brothers-in-law, a great aunt and my daughter’s family boxer. All these beautiful, incredible beings passed from this life to another, through the arms of death.

Absorbing the emotional impact of these transitions was very challenging for me. I had to recognize this was the truth. I couldn’t hide from the pain or ignore it. I couldn’t rationalize that they were better off leaving their lives here. There was a kind of limbo inside of me that surrounded their passing. A suspended state, leaving me wondering about how we are all connected and whether the connection goes on, despite their physical absence.

I was attempting to find my way through this when another loss occurred. Even though not a brother by birth, I had a deep connection with another and called him my brother, and he died by his own hand. Gone in one second of time. Violent, tragic, and yet completely understandable to me, given his circumstances. In his death I recognized that any form of judgment muddies the water. You cannot know another’s path without being on it yourself.

I also discovered that not all loss is the result of physical death. Friendships die, even long-term ones. And they can be just as painful. All those years melting away into mere memories.

It is easy to become stuck in the sadness and sense of loss. And the pain often extends outward into other areas in your life, sometimes overwhelmingly so.

So, where did my struggles take me?

One direction led me to asking why any of us are here? Is it solely to experience our heart’s breaking?

I believe the truth is that we are not here to subtract from each other’s lives but to add to them.

I bolded that statement because it is that important. Those few words shifted something huge inside of me and offered me a question to ponder.

Who am I now, that they were in my life? What did we share? What did we offer each other?

I feel glory in my answers to these questions.

I feel an awareness of something real and tangible. A sense of beauty and depth and how my life is better, fuller, grander because of them.

I sense that parts of them are now parts of me and I can pass them on to others. Their lives then extend through me, becoming another part of the amazing tapestry that covers this world.

Whatever pain or suffering once existed, can be transformed, if I allow it. If I encourage it. If I embrace it.

If I open and let my feelings run through me and guide them, knowing ‘all is well with the world’, I become free and can remember clearly how beautiful every connection I’ve ever made truly is. All a part of the whole.

When I see my life through this lens I feel blessed.