I’d like to let you know that I am now also writing for Dr. Echenberg’s website, Secret Suffering.  I hope you enjoy the articles as well as the site, which is jam-packed with helpful information.

When you’re in pain, it can be difficult to think about anything else.  Pain becomes the boss, dictating what activities you choose, how much you enjoy or don’t enjoy life, and how you feel mentally each moment of the day.  It’s no wonder that chronic pain sufferers tend to end up depressed, unhappy, or hopeless, because pain overshadows every moment of their lives.

Most pain sufferers focus their thoughts on what it would be like to live without pain.  I remember this clearly from my own battle with chronic pain.  I spent much of every day thinking about how happy I would be without pain.  I dreamed of living normally, of just doing activities without even having to consider pain.  I imagined myself living a fulfilling, joy-filled life, all because pain was not present.  Now, I have that life.  I live it every single day - day after day of no pain.  Do I relish the joy of living without pain?  Do I think often about how wonderful it is to live without pain?  Truthfully, no.  Every so often, I feel immense gratitude for the life I have now, but other than that, I think very little of physical pain or how it used to feel in my body.  I am too focused in the present, living my current life, to remember the pain.

Ask any mother to remember the physical pain of childbirth, and she’ll pause, think, and tell you she’s forgotten what it felt like.  It’s difficult to remember the physical sensation of pain once it has left your body, for which we can all be thankful.  However, if you take a minute to really consider pain from this perspective, it can be extremely enlightening.  Though pain is felt in the body, it actually exists in the mind.  Without the mind to tell me I am in pain, I would experience pain as only another sensation - like a breeze against my skin or the tickle of sweat between my shoulder blades. 

When I was dealing with vulvodynia and IC, I felt a rotation of symptoms including burning, sharp pain, dull aching internal pain, and itching.  My doctors would often request that I rate my pain on a scale of one to ten, and after a while, I automatically rated my pain throughout the day.  My attention was completely focused on my pain all the time.  After months of this, I began to notice that when I was distracted and not paying any attention to my symptoms, I couldn’t rate them.  I couldn’t put my finger on a number from one to ten because I wasn’t paying attention. 

Which begs the question:  If I didn’t notice the pain because I was distracted, was I feeling any pain?  The answer was no.  When my attention truly left my pain, when I allowed myself to let go of the rating system and not check in with my pain, it simply didn’t exist.  Why not?  Because pain is actually experienced in the mind.  It is a complex, fascinating, and absolutely freeing concept. 

I wasn’t able to completely let go of all my pain.  Often, it would intrude into my distracted state and bring me back to a pain-focused state.  Simply realizing that my focus made the pain stronger, however, was a very helpful idea.  I let down my vigilant guard whenever I felt safe and let myself focus on other aspects of my life.  I let myself stop wishing for a happy future and brought my attention to happiness available to me in the current moment.  I let myself experience distraction from pain as often as I could.  The less I focused on the pain, the less I felt pain.  The less I felt pain, the happier I felt.  It was the opposite of the other cycle, in which the more I focused on pain, the worse I felt, both mentally and physically. 

Playing this mind-game with pain helps open your experience up to include more happiness, more joy, and more pain-free moments.  There is no need to look to the future for hope - find the good feelings now and bring the future into the present, one moment at a time.  Recognize that pain is simply a sensation.  It does not have to become the boss and take over your life.  You are still in charge. 

I’d like to let you know that I am now also writing for Dr. Echenberg’s website, Secret Suffering.  I hope you enjoy the articles as well as the site, which is jam-packed with helpful information.

I often think I’ve thoroughly learned something and then life throws me a new experience that takes me deeper than ever into untapped oceans of understanding and clarity.  Having used deep breathing to move through the excruciating pain of vulvodynia and a kidney stone and interstitial cystitis, I felt I had quite a handle on the whole breathing thing.  I’ve been expounding upon it regularly in my posts, blissfully sharing the amazing effects of breathing.  It reduces anxiety.  It stops panic.  It gives you the ability to reach your inner healer.  It reduces pain.  It needs to be a regular part of your life.  Have I been doing it?  No.

As a person who developed physical pain as a result of much unprocessed emotion, including anxiety and panic, I am fully aware of my tendency toward anxiety.  I tend to slip into it easily, and I tend to store it in my body.  While in physical pain, I learned how to relax and release this anxiety through deep breathing, which I would do for forty-five minutes at a time.  I rose from these sessions invigorated, rested, and joyful.  However, I often find it difficult to fit in forty-five minute sessions in my current life.  So, in my typical fashion, I stopped doing the breathing work at all because I felt that I couldn’t do it “right.” 

Well, thankfully, I am a life coach, so I am always available to coach myself.  I called myself up and said, “Hey Coach, I’m not feeling so great this week.  What should I do?”  My Coach Self spoke right up, surprising Non-Coach Me with an inner wisdom I did not expect.  She said, “Breathe.”  Of course, she’s been reading Eckhart Tolle, so I’m pretty sure she stole that straight from him.  Okay, I know she did.  Tolle suggests taking three deep breaths whenever anxiety arises.  I was in such an emotionally negative place that I didn’t even tell if I was feeling anxiety.  I just knew I felt horrible.  So, I sat down and took three deep breaths. 

Voila!  A revelation!  I have been feeling a nearly constant level of anxiety, and I was not even aware of it.  I realized most of my day is spent with some level of tension somewhere in my body, which is the hallmark of anxiety.  I was astounded at the relaxation power of three deep breaths.  Of course forty-five minutes will relax me, but only three breaths?  Is it really even worth it?  The answer is a resounding yes.  Amazed, I incorporated the three breaths into my daily schedule wherever I could.  It’s like taking a little vacation every hour or so.  Every time I stop and breathe, I discover that I am holding a great deal of tension in my body.  I breathe, release the tension, and relax.  Miraculously, I feel about ten times better after only one day of practicing this technique. 

By skipping my breathing exercises because I believed I wasn’t going to be able to do them “right,” I lost the powerful relaxation tool inherent in breathing.  Truthfully, you don’t even have to take deep breaths.  All you have to do is focus on your breath for three cycles.  It’s the mere attention to your breath that holds the magic.  My body feels lighter, having released anxiety regularly all day, and I feel balanced again.  One minute several times a day is easy to fit in, and I am hooked.  I love feeling relaxed.  I love noticing my anxiety and gently exhaling it away.  I feel deeply connected to my essential self and my Inner Healer.  I invite you to try it.  I invite you to take one-minute vacations all day long, connect with your breath, and discover your own anxiety level.  Anxiety does not have to be a way of life.  This is the lesson I have learned, and now re-learned, and will probably keep on learning.  The simplicity of it is absolutely beautiful.  I love to take the three breaths, feel the relaxation, the connection, and the resulting joy.  Let’s do it together, right now.  Breathe.    

 

 

I’d like to let you know that I am now also writing for Dr. Echenberg’s website, Secret Suffering.  I hope you enjoy the articles as well as the site, which is jam-packed with helpful information.

I’ve been sick this week, and it has reminded me of an important idea I’ve been meaning to share.  A few days ago, I woke up with a sore throat that progressed rapidly to laryngitis, a sinus infection, and bronchitis.  The only problem was I didn’t have time to be sick.  I had two exciting coaching workshops to present, clients to coach, and a million other little things scheduled.  I barreled onward, because, as you may have noticed from other posts, I am quite capable of feeling fine emotionally while feeling sick.  I gave the workshops, even though my voice was just above a whisper, and enjoyed every minute.  I kept up with my clients, croaking my way through sessions.  I did not alter my schedule one bit, other than to skip my morning run a couple days because it was adversely affecting my vocal cords. 

After a few days of this, I noticed something.  I noticed a feeling of extreme exhaustion taking over my body.  I noticed a deep ache in my bones.  I noticed my voice was not returning.  I noticed my Inner Healer asking me to please, please, just rest.  I remembered writing post after post about the messages from our bodies, and finally, I crawled into bed and slept.  And slept.  And slept.  Whenever I begin to forget what I have learned, my Inner Healer reminds me.  Gently, but firmly.  This time, she literally stole my voice, and I know she won’t give it back until I have listened to her message.  She knows I’ve been moving at top speed, not heeding her soft reminders to care for myself.  She pulled the emergency brake by taking the one thing I need for my job: my voice.

How many of use don’t have time to be sick?  How many of us, dealing with one chronic issue or another, plow forward with our lives, never stopping to listen to our Inner Healer?  We hate our symptoms, we resist our experience, and we try our hardest to ignore it.  And then we wonder why it won’t leave.  We rage against it, fight it, try to escape it - we do everything but stop and turn inward.

Today, I am giving you the same assignment I gave myself this week.  I think of it as Feeling the Healing.  When you’re dealing with chronic health issues, Feeling the Healing is a most enjoyable, relaxing, helpful experience.  It’s the best gift you can give yourself, and I recommend you give it to yourself daily, or even twice daily.

Feeling the Healing:

Find a comfortable place to rest, and assume a comfortable position.  Start with deep breathing (see my earlier posts for detailed directions), making sure to feel your ribs expanding outward and sideways.  Do this for several minutes, breathing in and out through your nose, letting the air fill your lungs and even your entire torso.  Now, send your breath to any area of pain or discomfort, and as you exhale, imagine the breath taking that discomfort from your body.  Do this as long as you would like.  When you feel relaxed and at ease, move your focus inward.  Imagine you can feel the inside of your body, just underneath your skin, all over.  See if you can feel an inner presence moving within you, circling throughout your body.  This is the physical form of your Inner Healer - often it will feel like a slight tingling sensation all over your body.  If it helps to imagine a warm, glowing light within you, you can do that as well.  Let yourself be carried away into the focus of feeling this inner healing power.  Watch it move through your body, let it go wherever it needs to go, and just know that it is healing you, right now.  If your mind throws up a blockade, such as “this is silly,” or “I’m not healing,” just notice the thoughts and redirect your attention to the sensation underneath your skin.  Notice what it feels like.  Is it warm?  Is it glowing?  Is it soft, heavy, light, syrupy, smooth?  Where is it traveling?  You can also say to yourself, “I know healing takes time, but it is beginning right now.”  This helps alleviate mental doubts and fears. 

Stay in this state for as long as you’d like, and simply enjoy the sensations within your body.  Feel the power of your own body to heal itself, feel your cells regenerating and the healing flow of oxygen to every part of your body.  If you fall asleep, allow it.  You obviously needed it.  Rest.  Take the time to heal, just like you take the time to do everything else.  Schedule in healing time and make it a priority.  Your body is always trying to heal, even as you are living in anxiety and stress mode, running here and there, working, and berating your body for not healing.  Give it a fighting chance to succeed by making time for healing. 

Don’t forget to visit Fighting Fatigue, where blogger Sandy Robinson has been posting my blog posts.  Her site is a great resource!

Most of us are not hoping to wake up every morning and feel intense panic or desperate fear.  If we could ask for anything, we’d probably ask for peace.  Peace for others, peace for the entire planet, and peace within ourselves.  Yet, when we face health problems and physical pain, peace seems impossible.  Fear and panic are driving our lives, and our emotional states can vary wildly from depression to high anxiety.

If fear is in your driver’s seat, it is time to take back the steering wheel and connect with your own inner navigation systems.  Fear is a terrible driver with an awful sense of direction.  You, on the other hand, are a brilliant driver with a personalized GPS installed inside you.  All you have to do is learn how to use it. 

The first important step to taking back your steering wheel is to realize when fear has ripped it from your hands.  This sounds simple, but it is not always easy.  Noticing your own thinking and realizing you’ve been hijacked by repetitive, anxiety-creating thoughts takes a little practice.  First, you have to notice your own fear, panic, or anxiety.  Then, you can take a minute to step back and look at the fear as separate from your true self.  Notice that it comes from a different part of you than your intuitive, relaxed self.  In her latest book, Steering by Starlight, Martha Beck explains that fear, panic, and anxiety have their roots in the very animal part of the human brain.  She calls this the “lizard brain.”  Recognizing your lizard brain as soon as it starts taking over can immediately give you a chance to grab the steering wheel before fear shoves you aside.

I spent a great deal of time in complete lizard-based fear mode when I first began dealing with the chronic pain of interstitial cystitis.  I gave fear the steering wheel and didn’t even bother to watch the road.  Let me just tell you, that was not a wise decision on my part.  My lizard brain was so certain I would never recover normal bladder function and would suffer IC symptoms for the rest of my life that it went completely nuts.  I imagine it literally, as an actual lizard, reaching out with little lizard claws in every direction, grasping and scrabbling at everything it found.  It researched like crazy, becoming very obsessive and intense, and spent hours combing the internet and reading books.  Then, it decided to try every single therapy option available, be it medical, holistic, dietary, or just a rumor.  It tortured me with one cystoscopy after another to confirm that yes, my bladder was a mess.  Then it pushed me to try various infusions of drugs flushed into my bladder and held inside for an eternal thirty minutes.  It urged me to take various medications.  Finally, after little success, it took the advice of a doctor and decided to take a couple Tums daily.  This seemed to help the symptoms, so without seeking medical advice, my lizard brain decided that if one Tums helped, a zillion would be better.

Fast forward three months to the results of that experiment: me, writhing in agony on the emergency room floor, a kidney stone lodged in my body.  Too much calcium, it turns out, is not a fantastic idea.  That stubborn kidney stone required emergency surgery, which then had to be repeated twice.  I spent the next six months dealing with infections and horrific kidney pain.  All of this, I must say, was far worse than any of my IC symptoms. 

Sadly, I could give you more examples of ways my lizard brain took over and wreaked havoc in my life.  It took me a long time to learn the lesson I am sharing with you now, in the hope that it will save you at least a little mental or even physical suffering.  When I learned how to notice my own fear and see it as a separate part of my mind rather than regarding it as absolute truth, I was able to recognize the thoughts perpetuating the fear.  These thoughts ranged from, “I have to try everything, because otherwise I might miss the one medication that helps,” to “Oh, God, I cannot take this, make it stop NOW.”  Recognizing anxiety-causing thoughts and realizing they may not be true is the second step to regaining the driver’s seat.

My own thinking, stuck in lizard mode, took me in all the wrong directions.  When I learned to stop, take a few minutes to do deep breathing exercises and allow calm to have a fighting chance, I discovered my inner GPS, which I like to call my Inner Healer.  Simply stopping, becoming still, and breathing allowed me to tap into this amazing navigational system within myself.  I noticed that when I did this, I could make decisions about everything based on my own GPS guidance.  I knew, intuitively, which medications were worth trying and which weren’t.  I knew which doctors to call, which alternative medicine routes to explore.  I even knew which books to read and which internet sites to peruse.  If my Inner Healer signaled No to a resource, I dropped it and moved to something else.  Listening to your GPS gives you the courage to stay in the driver’s seat, certain you will always know which way to turn.

I now sit firmly behind the steering wheel, my GPS calibrated to peace.  It directs me flawlessly, every time.      

After years of struggling with physical pain and other uncomfortable sensations such as vulvar burning, rawness, and itching, I felt exhausted.  I was so sick of pain I wanted to give up, somehow, or run away.  I longed to jump out of my own skin and just escape.  I was going crazy dealing with the pain, and I really hated it, feared it, and obsessed about it.  My whole life centered around this terrible thing called pain.  (And itching - let’s not forget that.  Anyone who has suffered vestibulitis with itching knows the madness involved in that sensation.)

Instead of going bananas, however, I ended up following my Inner Healer (see previous posts) and discovering an amazing woman named Kathleen (see the Barratt Breathworks link on my blogroll).  I’ve spoken of her before, because she taught me how to elicit a relaxation response from my body and immediately snap out of panic.  Before my first appointment with Kathleen, I had reached the point where I actually wanted to go bananas.  I figured insanity would at least bring with it blessed unawareness and thus relief.  What I didn’t realize was what I really sought was awareness, or consciousness.

Kathleen introduced me to awareness, which I found so inviting I studied it in depth and found an entirely new career as a result.  Awareness is simply the ability to step outside of your own thinking long enough to separate yourself from your thoughts.  Eckhart Tolle discusses this in depth in A New Earth, and this is truly the key to releasing the despair around pain.  The most incredible notion about pain is this: pain is pain.  It is something that occurs in the body, and nothing more.  When we are unaware and involved in our thoughts, we believe many things about pain, such as “pain is horrible, pain is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, I can’t stand this pain, I can never live a normal life again, my life is ruined,” and on and on.  It’s easy to see, as someone looking at these thoughts rather than believing them, that these thoughts escalate anxiety and panic.

With awareness, you can step away from these thoughts and see pain for what it is.  Pain is a messenger.  It is a way for your body to communicate with you and help you stay alive.  It tells you to remove your hand from the hot stove.  It sends you to the emergency room when you have a severe illness that needs immediate attention.  It lets you know you’ve broken a bone so you can seek a doctor for help.  Pain is on your side.  Hating pain is not helpful at all on the road to healing.  Looking at pain with clear thinking actually invites you to learn about yourself and reach emotional equilibrium.

Once I saw my pain as a messenger, I began to listen to it and question it.  Clearly, it wasn’t there to save me from death, as my condition was not going to kill me.  So I literally asked it why it was in my body, sometimes with a journal in hand and other times while in a relaxed, meditative state.  Every time, it responded with this enigmatic answer: “I am here to teach you.  I will go when you have learned.”  I did not make that up mentally - it simply came to me.  At first, I felt very confused.  Teach me what?  I wanted to learn it quickly, whatever it was, so the pain would go. 

Of course, that was the whole point.  It was there to teach me how to listen to my essential self, my inner healer, and stop resisting everything in my life.  It was there to teach me how to become aware, to see my own thoughts as separate from myself.  It was there to teach me how to follow my North Star and discover my purpose in life.  It was there to teach me how to find joy, calm, peace, and love.  It was there to teach me how to truly feel good, confident, strong, and alive. 

I became so entranced in the learning process I forgot about my teacher.  I ceased to focus on the pain, and my attention turned to the material I was learning.  I fell in love with awareness.  I studied Martha Beck, Dr. Sarno, Pema Chodron, and a host of other writers’ works.  One day, I woke up and realized I hadn’t felt a symptom in months.  Yes, it’s really true.  I actually forgot about my condition and ceased to focus on my symptoms entirely. 

Instead of escaping through unawareness, I lived in my own skin with absolute awareness.  I learned from Pain, my Teacher.  And when I truly understood, my Teacher left, as promised.  Never in my life have I had such an effective learning experience.  I have a PhD in my essential self.  I will never stop studying, because I know I can learn more, always.  And truly, the joy is in the learning.         

When I was 19, I started having very strange bladder problems.  I noticed I always felt like I needed to urinate, and yet I never felt as though I could quite empty my bladder.  I woke up several times a night to use the restroom.  Sometimes I had to sit and wait on the toilet for what seemed like an eternity to relax my muscles enough to go.  I felt embarrassed by the whole issue and didn’t really talk about it with anyone.  I hated road trips, which were bound to be agonizing, and had trouble sitting through concerts and other events. 

After college, my symptoms continued to increase.  My husband was a Naval Officer, so I decided to visit a doctor and discuss this unusual issue for the first time.  The doc prescribed a drug to help decrease the need to go, and I left his office filled with hope.  I wasn’t a freak!  There was a medical explanation for this strange and frustrating problem. 

The medication did not help at all.  Crushed, I returned to the doctor, who prescribed other medications that did not work.  My husband and I relocated, and I visited a new doctor, who wanted to try the medications again.  Discouraged, I tried another doctor.  He suggested a course of antibiotics, because at this point I had begun having a burning sensation every time I urinated.  It didn’t seem to help.  Living the Navy life, we kept relocating, and I kept seeing doctors.  I explained my symptoms, they suggested all sorts of treatments, and nothing worked.  Trying to make sense of my symptoms, I started telling the doctors every little thing about my body.  I hoped one piece of information would be the magic key to unlocking the mystery.  This method backfired completely and placed me firmly in the “crazy female” category.  In the Navy medical system, this is amended with “whose husband is probably out to sea.” 

In sheer frustration, I began to do my own research and, sticking a toe in the pool I would later dive into headfirst, started listening to my intuition about my own body.  I mentioned to the doctor I was butting heads with at the time that I had a lot of hip and knee pain, and I really felt there was a connection between that and my bladder symptoms.  I had no idea what this connection could be, but it felt right.  That idea earned me my first prescription to a therapist.  Though I eventually got used to this good old doctor standby, it still made me angry every time a doctor mentioned it.  I was actually in therapy already, but that was a moot point.  It was the brush-off I resented.

Eventually, I diagnosed myself with interstitial cystitis, called urologists until I found one who had heard of it, and took my health into my own hands.  Though this was before I discovered my Inner Healer (see previous posts), I had made the important connection between knowledge, research, and self-awareness.  Never again would I consider any doctor smarter about my body than myself, because I had the one piece of the puzzle they didn’t - my intuition.  Surprise, surprise, I was officially diagnosed with interstitial cystitis.

I became so in tune with my health intuition that I named it my Inner Healer and handed over the managerial reigns to this wise inner self.  My Inner Healer was on the ball.  I found that I could quickly decide whether or not a medication was right for me, sometimes without even trying it.  It was quite logical in a lot of ways, actually, because if a medication made me feel worse and created a sinking feeling in my gut, I quit taking it (carefully, of course, in the recommended manner).  If a doctor said something that didn’t resonate with me, I moved on to someone else. 

I no longer feel angry with doctors because I know they are simply trying to do their job.  They’re giving me the best of their knowledge.  They can’t know what it’s like to live in my body, to feel my intuition.  If they say or do something that isn’t right for me, that’s not their problem.  It’s not my problem, either.  We just aren’t a good fit.  I eventually found a doctor who explained the connection between pelvic muscle problems, bladder symptoms, and hip/knee pain.  I felt a sense of relief and sheer confidence - my Inner Healer knows her stuff. 

If you are tired of feeling like the crazy, misunderstood female as you lay on the doctor’s table, your southern regions covered by a napkin-sized square of see-through fabric, you are ready to access your Inner Healer.  Here is how she speaks:  tension in your stomach, chest, or other areas, a slightly sick-to-your-stomach feeling, a sense of heaviness…but these are only examples.  Your sensation will be your own.  On the flip side, you might feel a light, relaxed feeling in your chest, or like you can suddenly breathe.  These physical clues are the language of your Inner Healer.  “Yes, this is the right doc for now,” she whispers.  Or, “No, this medication just isn’t what my body wants.”  Tune in, learn, and follow your guide.  If you let her, she will take you all the way to health.  Take it from me - thanks to my Inner Healer, I am healed.  I used to have interstitial cystitis, an “incurable” disease.  My Inner Healer knows better.   

I’ve been noticing a trend lately while working with women suffering from health issues.  I coach women with pelvic pain issues of any variety, and I can’t help but notice some commonalities.  I am no longer surprised when I hear person after person describe herself as a perfectionist, an overachiever, a type A personality, an anxiety sufferer, or someone who is very shy.  Though not every client has all of these traits, these do seem to be the most common issues shared by women dealing with pelvic pain issues.   I actually have all of the above personality traits.  As I’ve pondered the connections between these traits, the health issues, and my coaching knowledge, I have begun to develop a theory. 

I remember being described one time as a somatizer by a medical professional.  The definition of a somatizer is “a patient with frequent physical complaints for which no organic basis is found.”  Well, that definitely did describe me, I agree.  However, that didn’t really help me understand myself or move toward healing.  Having learned Martha Beck’s coaching tools, I can now connect the dots between my personality, thought processes, and illness. 

The main Martha Beck tool you need to understand this connection is called the Body Compass.  If you’ve read Following Your North Star, you’ll know what I’m talking about.  The Body Compass is really an awareness of your own physical self, and where your deepest unhappiness and greatest joy reside within you, physically.  Literally.  If you think about the worst event in your life and gently scan your awareness over your body, you will discover that somewhere in your body, you feel a physical sensation.  This is your body’s way of alerting you to things in your life that aren’t good for you.  If you think about the best event in your life – your happiest memory – you can scan your body and discover the physical sensation that equals joy.  Mine is this awesome spiraling sensation that begins in the center of my chest and grows wider and wider as it moves upward toward my head.  My body registers negativity in my stomach – I feel like there is a pile of rocks in there. If you tune in to your Body Compass regularly, it literally works like a compass.  You can imagine the things on your to-do list and see what your body thinks of them.  Laundry – not quite rocks in the stomach, but pebbles for sure.  Writing – ahhh, big spirals moving up, up, up.   

The key phrase there is “tune in to your body.”  Did I do that, previous to my health crisis?  No, no, and no.  Definitely not.  I was not one iota aware of my Body Compass.  Well, when would I have found the time?  I was too busy scheduling my never-ending list of activities that needed to be completed perfectly, then beating myself up over the results, which never, ever matched my expectations.  I was too busy anxiously analyzing everything I did, scheduling more things to do, hating myself for not being perfect, (because though nobody is perfect, I really should be), and looking for the next thing I could achieve to make myself feel better about myself.  I’m getting exhausted just remembering. 

I remember feeling the rocks-in-my-stomach feeling in high school, but I did not recognize it as my Body Compass.  I thought I had an ulcer or something, because my stomach hurt ALL THE TIME.  Strangely, that disappeared when I stopped dating the wrong-for-me person I was dating at the time.  Then, in college, I had a recurrence of that stomach issue, right as I was pushing myself to take every class offered at the university and get straight A’s in all of them.  Hmmm.  Did I listen?  No, of course not.  No pain, no gain, right? 

I did not listen, and I did not listen, and I did not listen.  So my body got louder, and louder, and louder.  It refused to let me ignore it.  First I got carpal tunnel.  Then I got bladder symptoms.  Next was lower back pain.  Followed by increased vaginal itching (which always popped up along  with the rocks-in-the-stomach), followed by vaginal pain.  Then, vulvar pain and burning.  My body was so sick of me not listening, that it was literally sick.  And it only got sicker, and sicker, and sicker, until finally, I stopped everything and tuned in to the poor physical home of my very confused self.   

Since that first moment of communication, my body and I have developed a fantastic relationship.  For about a year after my vaginal symptoms went away, I would get a little twinge of burning anytime I contemplated something that wasn’t right for me.  I listened.  Now, it’s back to just the rocks in the stomach.  I sit up and take notice, believe me.  I never want my body to have to yell again.  Ever.  It was not a pleasant experience.   

My definition of a somatizer is this: someone whose body is screaming at them to listen to its messages.  Why are we type A, overachieving, perfectionist, anxious, shy women prone to illness?  My theory, and it’s new and as yet unrefined, is we are the women who do not listen to our Body Compasses.  We are too busy, we are focused on our achievements, we are thinking about making everything perfect, we are stressing about every little thing, we are worrying about everything possible, and we are not confident within ourselves.  We do not listen.  It’s time to tune in to these magical bodies that know much, much more than our minds.  These genius bodies will keep guiding us, always, to our own North Stars, which is really just code for true joy, comfort, and happiness in the very core of your being.    

Today my “What If” post is being featured on Sandy Robinson’s blog, Fighting Fatigue.  Take a look at her fantastic site! 

In Martha Beck coaching, we coaches have a question we love to ask our clients.  When they are facing a something they find unpleasant or frustrating, we ask, “Why is this experience perfect for you right now?”   

It’s a question you have to really think about, but after it bounces around in your head for a while, the answer just comes.  There are so many experiences in life that we don’t want to have, and illness tops the list.  We don’t want to be sick.  We don’t want to feel discomfort or pain in our bodies.  Yet, if we are feeling pain or discomfort, wanting desperately to feel good instead is such a painful mental place to be.  We want what we don’t have, and that is all we can think about in each moment.  The reality, however, is that we are in pain in the present moment.  We are uncomfortable.  To want something that is not our reality right now, and to believe it won’t happen, makes us feel horrible.   

Fighting reality never feels good, so it can bring instant mental relief if you are able to stop resisting the current situation and look at it in a new way.  Strangely, releasing resistance often opens your eyes to new options, creative ideas, or new ways of thinking that eventually solve the problem. “Why is this experience perfect for you” moves your thinking into a different place, allowing you to release resistance and become unstuck. 

This question and its answer gave me incredible freedom when I was living with vulvodynia and IC.  In a way, it answered the despairing “why me” I threw out to the universe pretty much daily.  I hated living in pain and discomfort.  I hated the whole vulvodynia experience.  I hated how my life had changed because of it.  Then, Kathleen, my breath and relaxation instructor (see previous posts) asked me that question.  “Why is this experience perfect for you right now?”  I even hated that question, at first.  Then, as though moving into daylight from a dark cave, I could suddenly see my life stretched out behind and before me, my past and my future converging at this excruciating moment called Now. 

It was perfect because through this experience, I was discovering incredible new worlds, opening my mind to life-changing new ideas, and becoming very spiritually grounded.  I was finally expunging painful memories and coming alive in a way I could never have imagined before the wake-up call of life-stopping pain.  I was forced, through this illness, to learn to be still and relax, to stop running from my own thoughts and feelings, and to truly live in the moment.  I discovered gratitude.  My whole entire life was re-shaped thanks to this experience, from the inside out.  So I knew, even as I was still in pain, why the experience was perfect for me.  I knew I would become the person I longed to be, in harmony with myself, for the first time in my entire life.   

Seeing the amazing reasons for my experience gave me a completely different focus.  I relaxed.  I accepted the reality of where I was, but I expected to move forward to health, at whatever pace was right.  I let joy into my soul and began to like my own self.  I felt so incredibly good, despite the physical pain, that I simply knew everything was going to be fine.  And soon enough, the physical pain diminished, gradually, gradually, until I noticed one day it was no longer the perfect experience for me anymore.  It was gone.  I had moved on to new and different perfect experiences, new and different classrooms in the university of life.  Pain was my teacher, and I accepted my place as student.  When I had completely understood what I needed to learn, I graduated.   

Why is this experience perfect for you right now? 

I’d love to hear your answers, so feel free to comment.  It would be fun to start a little discussion about what each of you is experiencing and why it’s perfect for you!

I recently coached a client through a hysterectomy, working on her fears about the surgery, her worries about anesthesia, and her concerns about her doctors.  Health crises bring surges of emotion into our lives, and if we don’t know what to do with all these emotions, we run the risk of making the experience much more unpleasant and painful than it needs to be.  Fear, panic, depression, and anxiety never help health problems, and they aren’t any fun to feel, either. 

Working through these emotions to reach a place of centered calm can make surgery and other health issues much easier to face and experience. My client, Gwen, worked admirably and faithfully on her own thoughts prior to the surgery.  Our own thoughts, if we let them, can alter our perception of reality and create lots of unneeded stress in our lives.  Living in the land of “What If,” for example, causes high levels of anxiety.  When we first started working, Gwen had lots of What If’s – what if the surgery doesn’t go well, what if there are unforeseen problems, what if the doctors will not clear me for surgery…and more.  The What If Syndrome is a common problem for those of us who have been or are ill.  I remember many of my own What If’s from my experience with vulvodynia and IC.  What if I never get to have a normal sex life again?  What if I can’t have babies?  What if, what if, what if… 

Thinking this way removes you from the present and places you firmly in the future – a future much worse than the one you want.  It creates a mental picture of a future you do not want, and then you dwell on it, repeatedly.  If you’ve seen The Secret or done any reading about the Law of Attraction, you know this isn’t going to bring you what you long for, which, I’ll assume, is health.  Law of Attraction aside, thinking repeatedly about a negative What If can only increase your anxiety and panic levels, making you feel unhappy, stressed, and depressed. 

Gwen and I worked together on her major What If - What If they call off the surgery.  As we talked through it, Gwen realized that as of the current moment, the surgery was still scheduled.  She already had exactly what she wanted.  So focusing on the thing she didn’t want made no sense.  The reality was, the surgery was going forward, and nobody had said or done anything to alter this.  Gwen was creating her own mental pain by thinking ahead to an unwanted future event.   

It is true that most What If’s could indeed come to pass.  But why create mental anguish by even considering them?  Of course thoughts pop into your head, and perhaps a What If or two will catch you by surprise.  But you have the power to choose to believe the What If or not.  The future is always unknown, always unavailable to us.  We can only live now, and even if we are in the midst of something uncomfortable, the reality of it is often much less painful than the stories we tell ourselves about it.   

Gwen’s surgery did happen as planned, and she is now in the recovery phase.  More importantly, she was not terrified, panicked, or anguished about the surgery itself.  She went into surgery with a calm state of mind, for which, I’m sure, her body thanks her.  She tells me she dreamt she was in Jamaica the whole time she was under anesthesia.  Now that is a truly happy mind.

When I was in the midst of my physical pain and emotional turmoil, I saw an Oprah show where the guest was talking about feeling grateful for experiencing illness.  I can’t remember now what illness this person suffered from, or what the whole show was about, but I do remember how very annoyed I was at the time.  I could not understand why somebody would feel grateful for something so terrible, and I decided she must not be in a lot of physical pain.  I thought my physical illness must be much worse than hers.  I could not fathom feeling grateful for something so very painful and emotionally difficult. 

Now, here I am, living my very fulfilling, joy-filled life, typing away, feeling…yes, grateful.  I am grateful for my own illness, and no, I am not delusional, and yes, I do remember the physical pain I felt.   

In her upcoming book, Steering by Starlight, Martha Beck writes about a concept she calls the Ring of Fire.  This is one of the most difficult places to be and also one of the most incredible places to be – the ring of fire transforms your life.  Going through the ring of fire burns up all of your beliefs about yourself, your life, who you are supposed to be, and lands you squarely in the Core of Peace.  Obviously, the core of peace is peaceful and a very pleasant place to be. 

Most people require a little push into the ring of fire.  We don’t generally seek out such emotionally intense transformational processes on purpose, because they are difficult and not a lot of fun.  They are, however, worth it.  The core of peace is a place of certainty, where you know yourself quite well, are comfortable, love yourself, and feel a deep sense of purpose and well-being.  It is the home of your Inner Healer. 

When illness lands in your life unexpectedly, you are kicked unceremoniously into the ring of fire.  Everything you thought you knew about yourself, everything that used to describe you, changes.  You feel lost, at sea, alone, and confused.  You no longer feel a strong sense of identity.  Though this sounds awful, it is actually the perfect moment for your journey to begin.  If you can accept that you are now journeying forward toward your core of peace rather than fighting with all your might to move backward to the old you, you will be rewarded with speedier travels.  I don’t know about you, but anything with the word “fire” in its title is something I’d like to hurry on through. 

After surviving illnesses, people often seek new careers, volunteer for causes, change relationships, or make other bold, life-changing moves.  Being booted into the ring of fire accelerates the process of becoming who you are meant to be, not just in terms of careers and other labels, but in the sense of that deeper, more meaningful perception of yourself.  Arriving at your core of peace is much like the sensation of coming home.  You’ve just come home to yourself.   

It’s such an amazing experience that I am absolutely grateful for my illness.  It hurtled me into the ring of fire, a place I would not have gone willingly.  Without my illness, I would not have come home to myself.  And I really, really like it here.