How Feeling Body Sensations Helps Heal Chronic Pain and Fatigue
“The expectation that life should not challenge you and that there’s something wrong when life challenges you, that’s a delusion.”
—Eckhart Tolle
Tolle’s words sound simple but they’re radical in a culture that covets youth, achievement, the pretty package, shiny award, glossy post and an endless array of medications to ease each discomfort. I once heard a commercial that described aging as a disease. (But with this magic pill, you could cure it!) Western culture often heralds things that look slick on the outside and promise happy happy happy on the inside.
Is this your experience of life? It’s not mine. Not only is it unrealistic, it sounds bland. A Hollywood movie without a conundrum, conflict, hurdle to jump or heart to open? Meh.
Nonetheless, we envision this picture perfect life. When our felt experience doesn’t deliver, we may react with anger, frustration, sadness or shame because of underlying beliefs that something has gone wrong.
For instance, I wanted to be a journalist from a young age. For my fifth grade career report, I wrote avidly about my future profession. I joined my high school newscast to report on such breaking news as a minor explosion in Mr. Jones’ chemistry lab or the new fad of skateboarding! I studied communications in college and took a nationwide road trip to land a job in small town TV. I went on to report for network affiliates in Oregon, Nevada and California over the next 12 years.
I loved it—from the head up. Which means I disregarded the jumble of anxiety and tension from the neck down. Albeit stressful, it was truly interesting and I was doing important work in the world! At least, I got praised for it. I even won some shiny gold Emmys.
My dad said I lived a charmed life. I kind of did. Until I didn’t.
At 34, I was sexually assaulted by someone I’d met through work. Shortly after, I fell very ill. I couldn’t work, sleep, exercise or venture far beyond my home. During an exasperating 13-year bout with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS/ME), I naturally concluded that something had gone wrong. Very very wrong. And, I could not enjoy my life until I got well.
Even just now, writing about this made my insides squirm and I found myself suddenly checking email. Aha! The mind will do anything to dodge discomfort.
Here’s what I do when I notice that I’ve left myself. I bring my mind to the sensation and get curious about what it feels like.
Right now, it’s like a small brick in my belly. It’s heavy and hot. I’m feeling it and reminding myself that I am safe. I survived the hardship and am just here typing and drinking tea. Being with my body as it is. The brick is now lukewarm. As I attend to it, it softens.
This is how I recovered. I moved beyond the resistance (this shouldn’t be happening) to acceptance (this is happening) to feeling (what does it feel like?) to curiosity (what can I learn from this?) to healing (my body sensations are starting to shift!) to connection (how can I share this with others?).
In short, I learned to be with life and my body as it appears—rather than fighting anything that doesn’t conform to a perpetual state of problemless bliss.
During my healing journey, I started noticing that meditation, yoga, poetry, nature and Eckhart Tolle all brought peace. Far from a prescription pad, this became my path to recovery. I stopped comparing myself to what I used to be and met myself where I was. Days become simple but enjoyable explorations. My radius was small, perhaps a mile from my house, but my awareness expanded.
Following our innate curiosity leads to an open, receptive mind. From here, I discovered knowledge, neuroscience and practices that led me to healing, thanks to Dr. John Sarno, Dr. Howard Schubiner and other visionaries in mind-body medicine.
I am still capable of leaping out of my body. For instance, when I recently saw on Facebook that my previous love is “in a relationship,” I ran for the potato chips. Then I cursed him out on paper—and ripped it up. Then I ran my canyon trail.
Finally, I came to my meditation chair and sat with the deep, burning angst in my heart. I became intensely present to the thing I wanted to avoid. In that presence came a melting. He wasn’t here to hold me but I could hold myself.
As Eckhart Tolle says, “It’s helpful to learn to bring attention to your senses. The expression we could use is to come to your senses. Inhabit the body. That connects you with life and takes you out of the conceptualizing mind. Come to your senses. Inhabit the body. Be here now. They’re all one.”
Yep, that. I’ve found no better antidote, despite drinking herbal tinctures from here to the Amazon.
Emotions are calling for our attention. They are innate biological impulses we cannot live without. Anger tells us that a boundary is being breached. Sadness calls us inward to grieve and release. Fear conveys a threat. As we feel these emotions, we can better decipher their message.
Same with physical sensations. Our brain sends pain signals so we’ll lift our hand from a hot stove or remove a pebble from our sole. Pain, fatigue and other symptoms become chronic when we don’t feel safe, either due to prolonged stress or because we haven’t processed emotions from past experiences. This can keep our nervous system in a flight, fight or freeze mode, which perpetuates mind-body symptoms.
The remedy is simple but not always easy. We attend to the sensations with open curiosity, which tells our brain that we’ve escaped the tiger’s mouth—or more aptly the work deadline, partner’s mood or global virus. This calms our nervous system so it doesn’t keep warning us of impending doom—which it does through symptoms like insomnia, brain fog, headaches, bloating or body pain.
Safely in our cave, we can receive a message if there is a message to receive. Maybe our lifelong strategy of pushing our body, stuffing emotions or giving away power doesn’t feel safe.
Rather than fighting my body, I started doing things that brought out my innate pep. I found several people with whom I could share my innermost world. And, I stopped spending time with people who didn’t listen to me. I began befriending myself, reminding my body that I am strong and resilient.
What emotional or physical sensations do you feel now? What are you feeling about your own body and life right now? Instead of running away, wrap your attention around your feelings. Be curious about them. Breath into them. See if your body wants to shake or cry, groan or sigh. Ask what it has to say.
As you sit with what you have habitually run from, you are no longer an anxious being always on the run. You step into your own two feet planted firmly on the ground and say, “I’ve got this.” You enter a larger, more compassionate reality that’s as nearby as your body and breath.
For a taste of this practice, try the short somatic tracking meditation at the top of this blog and sign up for a longer version here.