Your Biggest Pain Needs You the Most
Isn’t it a fact that we all want to minimize feeling pain? We are so good at diverting our attention elsewhere. Moving pictures were a welcome distraction for people who lived through world wars and the Great Depression. Today, we have so many things to take our attention—it is ridiculous! With all the entertainment options, we can spend our time never thinking of what ails us.
I love watching This Old House. I have learned so much about building and remodeling houses, such as the latest HVAC systems available (I’d love to have a geothermal heat pump system.) And I find the rough plumbing and carpentry fascinating. I now know what a stringer and riser are or what a coupling is. This Old House is about fixing up a house. However, this particular season is filmed in Nashville. And because the cast was in Nashville, they went to the Grand ‘Ole Opry House.
There I was eating my lunch and watching the latest recorded episode, when Jenn, the landscaper from the show, met Trisha Yearwood. Jenn had asked Trisha when she knew she wanted to sing. Trisha answered that she had known she wanted to sing since she was five and had loved to sing ever since. Well, I lost it. It felt like an explosion of emotion flooded my body, and the tears flew out of my eyes. I couldn’t catch my breath. I was having a panic attack.
With haste, I shut the TV off. Something I saw caused me to have this reaction. It was a pain from deep within me, and I was unable to shut it off. I wailed out loud. I cried and cried and cried. What was it that had such power over me?
Pain.
Pain that needed me.
The pain I had been shoving down day after day, hoping it would stay there and somehow go away.
Hearing Trisha Yearwood talk about her singing made me realize how much I had been denying myself the joy of doing the same thing. (I’m not insinuating the same level of success as Trisha, but singing and recording my songs with talented musicians as she does and how I had done once before.) Back then, I was an inexperienced front person and didn’t have a teacher or mentor to show me the ropes. I had to learn that on my own, and seeing Trish on This Old House felt like a little too little too late.
What causes us the most pain is what we need to be addressing. I learned that for sure!
Those aches and pains, headaches, or digestive discomfort are all trying to get our attention. Our bodies keep a record of how we are feeling. We can hide inside a television drama or get lost in a video game, but until we get to the core of our pain, we will keep feeling the manifestations in our bodies.
For me, I have acid reflux and don’t sleep well. I know what my pain is. I’ve denied myself the joy of living happily for so many years and feel like it’s catch-up time, which is causing me anxiety and situational depression. I don’t have a clinical depression that would warrant taking medication, but a situational kind where if I can change my environment, life, etc., I will be at peace.
Since I’m constantly reflecting on my choices nowadays, being mindful, and always working towards evolving into the best version of myself, I know it’s not about fantasy, thinking the grass is greener on the other side. No, I realize that the only way for me to be happy is to be unapologetically and proudly me. Bravo to the person who is that way because authenticity is where peace of mind resides.
I’m sure you’ve met someone who appears so calm and confident. It may not be the way they were born or raised that led them on that path, but that they saw inside of themselves, felt their pain, and did something to rectify it. In other words, they did some action that brought them joy.
It’s the successful artist who was able to shut down the voices that told him to be more responsible and get a “real” job. It’s the teacher who defied all odds of getting a full-time job in the school district of her choice because she wouldn’t give up applying, networking, and making it happen. Or the woman who wanted a child and didn’t have a guy in her life and went against all sorts of scrutiny from family and friends and did what she knew would bring her joy and have a baby on her own. I could go on and on with examples, but you get the gist – we need to work for what we want AND shut out the noise that causes us pain.
I know we all have our stuff. Each one of us has a past, some good, some not so good, but it’s who we are. The measure of a good life is living with the past, knowing it is only our foundation, not who we are as a whole. If there is pain associated with the past, like it obviously is for me, we need to figure out how we can heal it.
I’m really working on healing my pain. I write this stuff and put it out there, and I have to hold myself accountable. It’s tough to deal with pain, but we have to go through it to get to the other side. And going through it is feeling it. Not denying it. Not pretending we’re okay thinking it’s not that bad and we’re fine. No, we need to address it. Even if you feel anger or resentment for a situation or person from the past that is no longer part of you; you can still address it and be free of the pain.
I write, which helps me get stuff out, but you can scream into your pillow or walk into the woods and kick a tree (not too hard so you don’t cause yourself more pain) or whatever will help you expel it; you need to feel it to get rid of it. Your pain needs you to acknowledge it. It doesn’t make you weak to feel it, but strong and courageous. Many go through life on autopilot, never reaching a level of consciousness where they allow themselves to feel the pain in order to heal it and live a happy life.
My pain now is that I am conscious of it all. And I’m feeling years and years of pain that’s hitting me all at once. Though I’m strong enough now to handle it all, it’s still a struggle to shake it without having my goals met and living the life that I dream. But I’m getting there. We all need faith.
Thank you for reading this. I sincerely hope that I have offered some ideas that can open your mind to possibilities and solutions.
To Taking Care of Your Pain,
Francesca