The Gift of Pain (conclusion)
You can read part one and part two here and here.
Where there is pain, there is no free flow, and where there is free flow, there is no pain.
This is one of the foundational principles of Traditional Chinese Medicine, and makes perfect sense in the context of the physical body: when my back is tight, it hurts, and when it loosens up the pain subsides. This is why massage and acupuncture are so powerful: the healer finds blockage points within the body and then takes action to release them so that free flow may resume. When the flow resumes, the pain recedes.
With my back spasms, I experienced the excruciating pain of blockage, and though I did anything I could to alleviate the pain, I failed to address the underlying issue I ate hundreds of ibuprofen, took muscle relaxants, drank too much booze, and became hyper-conservative with my activities (which means lazy and inert), but all I really accomplished was to numb myself.
It took me a long time to realize that the pain-relievers were only covering up the real problem, which was my story about what was happening.
The truth was that I was struggling in my life. I was in a high stress work assignment trying serious felony criminal cases and managing intense damage control situations. My wife and my teenage daughter were not getting along well, and the conflict was rippling through our family on a daily basis. I was worried about money as we took on more and more debt. And my back really hurt, which caused me to abandon the physical practices like yoga and martial arts and running which had always served to ground me.
However, underneath all that, the true heart of the blockage was my outlook: I viewed the world as a fundamentally unsafe place, where scarcity and fear and conflict ruled the day. I worried about everything: climate change, the war in the Middle East, politics, police misconduct, even whether the Giants would win the world series again. Just looking at the front page of the paper would send me into a tailspin.
My fears were paralyzing me. I felt stuck, trapped, and often hopeless, and I was in deep conflict with reality. I wanted things to be different, but I was unable and unwilling to accept things as they really were. I was resisting the current of life, rather than flowing with it.
Where there is no free-flow, there is pain.
This created a massive mental and spiritual blockage which manifested in my body as intense stiffness and pain.
In a truly vicious circle, my mental suffering magnified the pain in my body, which increased the suffering in my mind, and so on and so on.
With the realization that I was caught in a feedback loop, I began intense and focused work in my ManKind Project men’s circle and with my life coach, Ray Arata, to identify and heal the blockages in my life and in my mind. Like unpeeling an onion, I found that with each new layer that I examined, there was always another underneath.
I started a regular meditation practice, under the tutelage of Jun Po Dennis Kelly and the Hollow Bones Rinzai Zen Order, where Jun Po has honed and explicated a koan process around the understanding and transformation of suffering.
I worked to cultivate and nourish positive qualities like gratitude and appreciation, and slowed down my days, making to include time for rest and relaxation and play. I stopped reading the newspaper and listening to NPR, and instead read fiction and listened to music. I also wrote about my experience on Facebook and in my journal.
I began to learn to accept my body the way it was: to stop arguing with it. Rather than waking up in the morning, cursing the stiffness in my back, and pounding ibuprofen and coffee, I created a morning routine that involved rising early, reading poetry, gentle yoga, and meditation.
I learned to greet my stiffness and pain as a opportunity, and as a gift: an opening into healing. Rather than turning away from the discomfort, I turned toward it, and engaged with it.
I hear many people fret about the idea of acceptance, or its verbally loaded cousin, surrender, and complain that it sounds like giving up, or quitting. A term that works better for me is engaged acceptance. I see clearly how things are, and acknowledge that much of it is out my control, but I also embrace a positive vision for change and growth.
I accept, but I do not submit!
Instead, I engage with all of my training, faculties, and spirit to shift the situation. The trick is to engage with flow and ease, rather than resistance. In other words, I use jujutsu, the art of redirecting energy to positive purpose.
This is the gift of pain; it is an opportunity for growth.
When there is pain, there is no free flow. Seen in this light the pain is a marker, a red flag identifying a blockage. Thank goodness for red flags!
Once I see the problem and accept it’s reality, I can heal myself, and as I bring more and attention and energy and flow to the process, the blockage begins to dissipate, and with it the pain.
The really good news is that this model works on the inside as well. When I am feeling pain in the form of sadness or fear, or anger, rather that spin out a big story about how hard my life is, I instead can take a breath, feel what’s happening, accept it, and share it with someone. In this process, I have a chance to see underneath the feelings to the deep concern and compassion from which they arise.
This works especially well with shame.
More and more, I find myself actually grateful for these difficult times, and appreciating the opportunity for healing that they provide.
As a result, I am happier and more fulfilled than I have ever been in my life. Rather than a world of scarcity and fear, I have come to see a world of love and connection and boundless possibility. I am brimming over with hope and joy and wonder!
All this came about as a result of my horribly spasming back. For that pain, I am now truly grateful.
