We are not so cold-blooded as to say to a person with pain that there is no such thing as pain. That is not our idea or purpose. We admit the fact. IT IS QUITE A DIFFERENT THING TO ADMIT ITS NECESSITY.
~ The Science of Mind, Ernest Holmes
When was the last time you had an intentional conversation with your precious earth-suit—the body in which you live? Yes, it can communicate with you and, if you are like me, it is likely that your body usually starts the conversation with some sort of pain or discomfort. It’s by no mistake that pain plays such an important role in our conscious evolution. Your body is continually vying for your attention because it is hard-wired to maintain longevity, growth, balance, and peace; it wants to remain your soul’s home for a long time and is willing to go to extreme lengths to make it so—even if it makes you miserable. Physical pain, eventually, will gain your undivided attention. The question is, are you listening when it knocks on your door—or do you ignore it and try to muffle its voice?
Many of us have forgotten the importance of this sensitive, fragile, irreplaceable, piece of hi-tech equipment we live in called the human body; we need it to exist. Spiritually speaking, we know we are not just our body; we know we are far more than a swirling mass of atoms, protons, and molecules manifesting as so many pounds of human flesh and bone. However, let us not underestimate the importance of this clay house we temporarily occupy. Our body exists in its own field of innate intelligence—it is profoundly wise and, at many levels, knows what it is doing; not only does it know how to gain our attention, it will attempt to heal itself when given the opportunity. Too often, when pain arises, we rush to the medicine drawer, liquor cabinet, refrigerator, or otherwise try to muffle the messenger with one substance (or activity) or another—anything to avoid it. NOTE: While the primary topic in this writing is “physical” pain, this does not diminish the importance of proactively listening to our emotional pain as well.
You Can Run But You Cannot Hide From Pain
“… the advice we usually get is to sweeten it up, smooth it over, take a pill, or distract ourselves, but by all means make it go away.”
~ Pema Chödrön
The body in which we each live is continually doling out visceral experiences that come with invaluable life-lessons attached. The quintessential question is, are we listening and learning the lessons as they come? Often, they show us how we mistakenly take our body for granted—so much so that we forget it has an expiration date. Often, we fail to pay attention to the messages until it’s too late.
Your Body Is On a Long-term Lease
Think of your body as an automobile because, in a manner of speaking, that is exactly what it is—a vehicle your soul-self leased to ride in on its journey through the terrain of the human condition. It has been said our body is very much like a carbon-based, biodegradable, disposable vehicle that requires regular maintenance as long as we continue to use it. The key is to remember that the warning light on the instrument panel that tells us when something needs our attention is pain. The metaphor being, while you understand you are not your automobile, you still make sure you service, fuel, and properly clean it regularly, yes? The question is, why would you treat your body any less mindfully than your automobile?
The Symbiotic Relationship Between Body and Soul
The practice, as Ernest Holmes infers, is to remember it is not ours to deny the pain but to transcend the need for it—which we can’t do until we understand why the pain is there.
Understanding we are not our body does not diminish to the fact that the soul-self needs the body (the vehicle) as much as the body needs a “pilot” (the soul-self). It is a very symbiotic relationship. The exquisite reality is the body offers the soul its initial point of contact with earth the day we are born; the human body serves as the ideal intermediary between “heaven and earth” for the extent of our earth journey. Then, when the time is right, the soul jettisons the body, which then returns to the natural elements from which it came while the soul returns to the mysterious infinite Ethers from which it came. Between those points of arrival and departure, our job is to deepen our skillfulness in listening to what the body is reporting to us without believing it is the sum of who we really are. Ah! The delicious dance of apparent duality which we must learn to master. Living in a human skin while always remembering it is not who we are is the practice of a lifetime; it is easier said than done. The challenge lies in understanding that we can’t receive the information our body is continually relaying to us until we learn to accept, honor, and love it just the way it is. It’s challenging to embrace the idea that your body—in its current condition—may be a teacher that has a message for you, especially if that condition is one of illness, malady, or a disability of some sort. This is a reality with which I learned to relate recently.
What Message Does Your Teacher Have For You?
“Our bodies are among the most willing and wise teachers. Unless you spend a large percentage of your time engaged in out-of-body experiences, your body shows up wherever you are. It can be an ever-present benevolent guide or a lifelong cross to bear. The decision is yours.”
~ Dr. Cherie Carter-Scott
If Life Is a Game, These Are the Rules
This past year, my body certainly has worked overtime to get my attention; the older I get, the more insistently it beckons me to pay closer attention to what it has to say. Recently, this truth became even more obvious after having a bike accident that left me with torn, fully separated rotator cuffs on both of my shoulders. The day after the (first) surgery the pain (and inconvenience of having my right arm strapped to my hip 24/7 for the first six weeks of recovery) was so overwhelmingly omnipresent I had no choice but to speak to my body and the pain it was holding. I knew I had to make peace with the messenger, and I knew it wouldn’t go away until I did. Even after a very intense conversation with my pain it still lingered—but with assistance from my prayer partner, doctor, and physical therapist it took on a more translucent or subtle presence which allowed me to observe it—to “be” with it while not being sucked into the drama of its all-consuming vortex. Rather than pushing back at the intense pain and railing against it I acknowledged its presence and that it had my FULL attention—and asked it to reveal the message it had for me. My prayer became, “Why are you here—what can I gain from this experience that will make the balance of my time living in this human skin a better, more fully expressed, productive, purpose-filled, joyful journey… and what do I need to learn from this experience so I don’t have to repeat it?” The layers of answers I received came in rapid-fire sequence—so I took notes of the conversation in bullet point fashion, which I now share with you; perhaps there is a message there for you as well:
Question (to the pain):
Why are you being so persistent—what do I need to know more about you so you can be on your way?
Answer (from the pain):
- Humility—you need to learn to be open to being served; to receive from others who extend themselves to you with no strings attached.
- Compassion and Empathy—you need to hold a deeper sense of caring for others (as well as yourself) who are in pain and who suffer in ways you never imagined… until now.
- Appreciation—for what is right with your body and the body of your relationships…and for the simple gift of your life; your blessings are abundant.
- Gratitude—for your surgeon, including the skilled nursing staff and physical therapists—and for other “caretakers” (aka, my saint of a wife, as well as strangers on the street who went out of their way to ensure or ease my comfort).
- Patience—for the natural healing process as it unfolds within this body, trusting as its innate wisdom leads the way—and patience with other people (both friends and strangers) courageously living with chronic pain with no end in sight.
- Trust and Surrender—be willing to literally “Let go, and let God” and trust the process. Rather than push against the energy of this pain, transcend it by mindfully breathing deep into it and being present with—and in—your body.
- Find the balance between being and doing—become more aware of the choices you make that have obvious consequences. When you can consciously “be here now” you merge your being with your doing and can witness your choices in the present moment where they usually serve you better.
- Forgiveness—for yourself for inflicting such needless guilt, shame and pain on yourself—such as, “WTF were you thinking at 72 years of age when, of your own volition, you jumped on an electric bike that was bigger than you?” And, let’s not forget forgiveness for others who, over the years, have inflicted pain on you as well; they too, were your teachers.
- Willingness—to know there is more to know on the other side of this experience and that it is not yours to deny the pain that comes into your life—but to listen to it; to use it to ascend, to live so mindfully proactive in your body that you no longer require the motivation of pain to shape a life truly worth living.
There were more responses to my question—but I trust you get my point. Often it is through our greatest pain, rather than our greatest pleasures, that we find our way back to the wholeness of who we came here to be. We just need to be still and listen for the guidance our pain offers. Kahlil Gibran, author of The Prophet, echoed these sentiments perfectly when he wrote,
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know your pain.
Sometimes it’s the deepest pains we suffer that can open us to receive the guidance we need to stay on the pathway. After all, that is why we came here in the first place—to go where the infinite pathway leads. Love your body, treat it well and listen carefully to what it has to say—it’s wiser than you know.
