(Some) Suffering is Optional

There is hardship and suffering of some kind in every life. We all go through the normal difficulties of childhood - childhood illnesses, making friends at school, sibling rivalry, teachers who see the world in vastly different ways than we do. And, of course, there are no perfect parents. Every parent disappoints at some time - some more than others. So, we all have less than perfect lives.

However, there are unconscious ways that we continue to suffer unnecessarily long after the painful events of childhood - ways that we actually miss out on the joy and richness available in the here and now. As I mentioned, these "ways" or patterns are unconscious, so we are mostly unaware that they are going on. We just see the world (or ourselves, or others) in particular ways that make life seem different than it actually is - bleaker, more dangerous, more tragic, or in a myriad of other ways. We have filters that make it difficult to see the world as it is right now. And we may, inexplicably, see the world one way at one moment, and another way the next.

For example, right now, as you read these words, I'm guessing that you might have some thoughts going through your head - maybe some of you are thinking "this sounds kind of interesting, I wonder how it works", while another part of you might be thinking "what is she talking about? I know how the world is!" Whatever you are thinking as your read these words, stop for a moment and listen. These voices are an example of the unconscious patterns I was just talking about.

What we now know about the human brain, is that the brain is constantly organizing our experience. From the time we are born (and possibly even before this) we begin to receive information which we use to create a model about how things work. We live our life based on this model. For example, one experience I had very early in life that has influenced my relationship to food (and other forms of comfort), was that my mother subscribed to the "scheduled feeding" method that was quite popular during the mid-forties. Dr. Spock advised mothers to train their infants to eat on a regular schedule, which was every four hours. I have a memory of being in a crib with two or three adults standing by the side of the crib and I remember the smell of warm milk. In this memory, I am extremely hungry and I am crying, but none of the adults are helping me - none of them are responding to my cries.

As you can tell from this example, the adults in my life were obviously concerned about my welfare and committed to my well-being, they just happened to be using a model that didn't fit my needs very well. Interestingly, traumatic events in our early life are often unintentional. The (once) unconscious pattern that resulted from this experience was a rather frantic response to food and comfort - as if there isn't enough, that I will never get enough.

This pattern became clear to me in it's most basic form in my twenties, when I had problems with my weight (after the growth spurt of my teens when I could eat anything).
The way that I developed to deal with this internal experience in my twenties was to "manage" it - create an external structure that determined what I could eat, when I could eat, and how much I could eat (oddly reminiscent of the original structure created by my mother). Later I discovered long distance running and was able to once again eat anything that I wanted (until my knees gave out in my mid-forties).

For most of my life I lived with an uneasy peace between my basic need for nourishment and this frantic physical response to any sense of limitation around food (or other forms of comfort). It has only been in the last few years, through my work with a form of body-centered psychotherapy called Hakomi, in conjunction with meditation and another model called Internal Family Systems that I learned to simply be present with and comfort this small frantic part of me that is afraid she will die if she doesn't eat NOW. Until I learned these tools, I thought that small frantic part WAS me. I didn't know that I could stay calm and provide her with the comfort she needed so long ago.

As you are reading this, take a moment to notice if there is some part of you, some internal experience that is less than pleasant. Where is it located in your body? Resist the impulse to decide immediately what it is about. Instead, just take a moment to BE with this experience. Notice it with a kind of open curiousity. You don't have to dive in - it is more useful to keep some distance. Just be present with it and see if there is some way you can describe it. What is the quality of the experience? Once you have an idea about the quality, compare the description with the experience - see if there is a fit. If not, keep checking. If there is a fit, there will most likely be a slight shift in the feeling. Stay with it and see what the quality is NOW. By simply being present with your internal experience you are providing comfort, what neurobiologists call "limbic resonance" - the most basic need of primates. If you do this, you will begin to make room for these experiences to move, express themselves, become unstuck - and the unconscious patterns - the filters that I spoke of in the beginning will begin to shift and change, begin to become clear enough to see things as they really are.

In my own example, what has happened for me is that when I look at the world, I now see that there is enough - there is enough food, enough love, enough comfort. For the most part I no longer become frantic when I need to miss a meal, or when my life partner is gone on a trip, or when a friend doesn't return a phone call immediately. These simple everyday experiences that used to create a low level sense of panic in my body are now just everyday experiences. I know that my friends and family love me even when I don't hear from them for awhile. I live in a different world now, and this world has significantly less suffering and more joy than the world I inhabited for so many years.

Exercise

Think about an issue that is currently bothering you. Take a moment to center or ground yourself by whatever means you usually use - or simply take several deep "belly" breaths - breaths where you breathe down into your belly. Hold your hand on your belly so you can notice whether or not your belly is filling up. You can even arch your back slightly as you inhale, and then straighten up your spine as you exhale. Do this for a few minutes and then return to the issue you have chosen. As you think about the issue, shift your awareness to the area between your neck and your pelvis - your trunk or core. Sit quietly and see if there is a particular "felt sense" about the sensations in your body. Give yourself some time. Allow yourself to be present with the fuzziness until something becomes more clear. Do not go fully into the experience. Simply notice it with an open friendly curiousity. Eventually you will notice something, a word, an image, a quality -
Like "pressure" or "lightness" or even "stickiness". Whatever you notice will be unique to you. Once you have an idea about the experience, compare the label to the experience itself. Put the word and the experience side by side, like matching two puzzle pieces. If you have a good match, something will shift - either by becoming more intense, by releasing, or by changing in some way. If nothing happens, stay with the experience until it is clear. This might take some practice.

You can continue this process for several "rounds" (the description above is one round).
As you do this, the problem or issue will change for you and you will learn something about how your previous experience or body memory is organized in relation to the situation. What I notice is that when I (or my clients) do this process, the problem becomes more manageable, the next step becomes clear, or, in some cases, the problem simply dissolves.

Let me know how this works for you!!

Quote

Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and sorrow come and go like the wind. To be happy, rest like a great tree in the midst of them all.

- the Buddha

Poem

The Sea and the Bells

If each day falls
inside each night
there exists a well
where clarity is enfolded

We need to sit on the rim
of the well of darkness
and fish for fallen light
with patience

Pablo Neruda
translated by William O'Daly