the path inward

I often work with people who are experiencing pain in one or more aspects of their lives, and it isn’t always clear where pain is coming from physiologically (i.e. neck pain is really a result of years of babying an old shoulder dislocation or knee pain that results from a busted ankle that was never really rehabilitated properly). Nor is it clear how much of the pain is actually being bolstered and fortified by someone’s views and mindsets.

I can often sense, when someone comes into my space, how much of their pain is caught up in stories they have about the pain or themselves… and how willing they might be to take a second or third or tenth look at their assumptions. It takes a unique set of circumstances and a deep quality of curiosity for a person to be really willing to dive into the work we set out to do together. They must be willing to shut out the noise of doctors and experts and pop culture and media for long enough to listen to themselves and to also know that even though the messages coming from within are important to heed, they also are often not always “correct” so they must keep looking. No easy task. Not for everyone.

What becomes abundantly clear the more I work with people as whole people and not just bodies with minds or minds with bodies… is that as much as our perception of pain and suffering does not exist in a vacuum, our pathway through and transcending that suffering must include a multitude of acknowledgements about the limitations of our understanding as well as the power of our outlook.

I can see if someone is never putting weight into a leg, possibly from a years-old sprain that they just “walked off”. I can see if an arm is not quite swinging the way it should and that perhaps this came from a dislocated small finger at the age of 1. I can see how both of these affect gait and then quietly travel through the body until they meet a point at which they become stuck and fixated as “pain”. I can share this physical finding, but what do we make of it if the person is not open to exploring their own physical history or the possibilities that lie within their tissues through an honest and careful exploration of this inner world? We don’t get far, not until they are ready.

In our modern world, we are told by doctors and “experts” and “science” that we are but a set of cells and tissue and structure dictated by a brain of chemicals and fluids and electrical firings that all operates much like a series of parts - machine like… we are told that somehow they know our body and experience better than we ever could and many of us allow them to give us this sentence and live with it. We succumb and live with the powerlessness, the pain, the desperation of trying to patch a wound that no one can seal, to stem the flow of our effervescent livelihood flowing into their wallets, subdued with each new pharmaceutical miracle drug they send our way.

Somewhere along the way we got lost and we gave over our internal capacity to know ourselves to the powers that be. Whether we blame it on “science” or “religion”, it really does not matter, for here we are and we are all the poorer, meanwhile we grow sicker and our kids less resilient and we wonder what happened. In the end there is really no one to blame, and if one were to look and consider very carefully, one could make the argument that it is this very situation that presents us with such a vital opportunity. In the face of a continuous dripline of messaging surrounding our supposed powerlessness, we can instead begin to ask questions, take the reigns and go in search of our livelihood once again.

Enter self-practice - the space of witnessing who we are… on a physical level, on a mental level, on a spiritual level. It begins with a step inward and the willingness to stay with what we experience. We agree with ourselves that we can act with an intention and also “no set agenda” at the same time; this lovely paradox being instrumental in our ability to relax and witness while revealing.

What does self-practice look like? It looks like sitting meditation. It looks like gentle movement exploration of our joints and physical structure without forcing, but by listening. We observe the quality of our mind and we listen to our inner voices in their whispers and shouting matches. And we stay. Not with aggression but because we are truly curious. No easy task. Not for everyone.

We are our only savior, and while there are many wonderful beings who can point us in a direction, we are the only ones who can find our own way to salvation.

Salvation from what, though? Salvation from being tumbled, continuously, by the idea that we are somehow not where we “should be”, that our pain is a hindrance instead of an opportunity, and that we are somehow fragile or meek or easily squandered by the rough terrain of a life.

I know that life can be intensely painful and beautiful, sometimes all at once, and that our time here is so very limited. Our attention is perhaps our most precious resource, and if we are only sure that we have this one body and mind to explore within, why not make the most of it?

Take a step inward. See what you experience when you stay and allow your experience to unfold without your grasping after it or pushing it away. You can begin anytime.

You could start by pausing.

Feel your breath in your body. What do you notice?

Where do thoughts arise? Where do they go?

When you look at physical pain or discomfort and stay in it, what does it really do? Is it solid? Does it lead you somewhere, like a path? Is it fixed or does it shift around? If it feels fixed, look more closely.

What happens if you stand and feel your bare feet on the ground, really sense your footprints… what do you notice? Are they the same side to side or is there a message there in the way your soles relate to the earth? Can you feel the way you live, unconsciously in your feet and how that might describe a larger story about what is going on in the trillions of cells above, the life inside the skin and muscle and bones?

Naturally, we get pulled away; distracted. This is not a sign of failure but a sign that we are paying attention enough to notice how the mind behaves. We can build our focus like any other skill, step by step, layer by layer.

From time to time ask yourself who is observing all of this curiosity. Who is it that feels feet, observes breath, notices thoughts? Can you drop stories and just rest in bare awareness for even a moment?

There are a million ways in to discover who you are.