I’ve only recently started listening to my body. It’s not as though I have not been long aware of the aches, pains, groans, hurts, pinches and spasms. I have. But I have ignored them. And society usually applauds us when we don’t listen to our bodies. We hear messages like we need to keep “pushing through”, “ignore the pain” and “distract yourself”. It’s as if the wisest thing to do is to bury the pain deep inside in the hope that it goes away or at least becomes a bit quieter. Burying your pain is a sign of strength in our culture. In talking about our pain we run the risk of being identified as dependent, a whinger or simply someone who cannot handle the harsh reality of life.
We know when we feel some kind of pain, whether emotional or physical, yet usually we choose to ignore it, pretend it’s not there and avoid reaching out to connect with others about our pain. I’m currently watching my 9-week old puppy embody the pain that comes from being separated from her mother and siblings. She is experiencing anxiety and at every turn she reminds us about it. She is unafraid to show her vulnerability. She is bold enough to seek attention, love and physical touch when she feels lonely. Sure it get a bit much sometimes! But I love her surrender to these two new people in her life in the hope that they will take care of her in her most stressed moments. She is not ignoring the pain, rather she is reaching out for touch and understanding, placing herself in our hands for her care.
It took me a long time to realise that the pain I was feeling in my body was anxiety. For a long time I pushed the pain down and just “got on with it”, pretending that I was not struggling, covered up any hurt I felt so that I would appear to be like others - strong, competent, thick-skinned and untouchable. It’s only after I listened to my deepest desires for rest, recovery, protection and slowing down that I was able to take a break from the stressful nature of my life. I was able to hear the language of my body trying to communicate with me, understand it and then make the changes I needed. Now when I feel that familiar pain of anxiety rising up it’s a signal that I don’t ignore, but instead I come with curiosity: “Why is the pain back?” “What is my body trying to tell me?” Often it means I am not ready to engage with that work, conversation, person or issue. It means I wait until the anxiety settles before I can engage again. And that can take a long time. Which means that everything goes much slower than sometimes I would like. It means sometimes appearing incompetent or not present. Sometimes it means disappearing for a while, knowing that some people are wondering whatever happened to me and why I have gone quiet - invisible and perhaps even boring.
But it also means that my body is relaxing more after years and years of behaviour that made me ultimately unhappy. When we listen to our bodies we can learn a lot about ourselves. When we reach out in our pain, even though we might appear dependent, needy and vulnerable, we usually find that safe people around us understand, care and want to help. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact it reminds us how fragile and small we truly are as as human beings. And that can only be a very good thing.