School of Inquiry, School of Pain….a way to freedom

The School for The Work just completed, and I’m flying home from Los Angeles to Seattle. Out of the sun and into the mist. 

I’ll admit it.

Being on staff during the 9 day school was intense, focused work. Lots of duties, many details, 210 participants and about 50 staff. 

The behind-the-scenes organization is masterful. I am humbled by the effort put into creating this school for 30+ years. 

There was one small problem.
My aching right hamstring injury. 
Or should I say one BIG problem. 

Oh the pain.

If you’ve been reading Grace Notes for awhile, you might remember the story when I first tore my right hamstring six years ago, and had surgery to repair it by pinning it back onto the sits-bone. Ew. I don’t even want to think about it.

For a few years, it seemed like it was doing OK. Never back to “normal”….but OK. 

And then….the pain changed.

It got worse. 

Always only on the right side, always radiating from that injury site up into my lower back, up the right soaz and all the muscles in my right side below the rib cage. When it’s intense, it’s like my whole right side butt cheek is inflamed or on fire. A strange nervy type pain. 

(And yes, I’ve been to a lot of specialists and have lots of physical therapy exercises some of which seem to help a whole lot. Sometimes it dies down to a 2 level pain and I’m totally relieved).

And sometimes…. 

Level 9 out of 10. Like…excruciating. I almost can’t stand upright, and I can’t sit down either. Lying flat appears to be the only thing offering relief, and it still burns and throbs. 

Well, that happened right here during the School. 

Yippee Skippee!!

Maybe it was because I was on my feet so much the very first set up day when all the participants registered and arrived. 

I don’t really know, to be honest.

But oh the thoughts.

• I should be able to be on my feet a long time, just like I used to be
• My easy life in a healthy body is over 
• I should not have this chronic pain
• This pain is preventing me from enjoying myself
• I can’t be free with this thing called pain
• I can’t do my job well
• My body is failing me
• Those doctors/surgeons screwed up my hamstring
• I shouldn’t have had the surgery
• I wish I wasn’t here
• This injury will make it impossible for me to fulfill my dreams (travel, hiking, moving, playing, being)
• My life is ruined

Right there in the middle of the school….I knew I needed to begin The Work. Just like all the amazing participants who inspired me as they navigated their own inner minds and worlds day by day.

Is it true my life is ruined right in the middle of that pain? Is it true it should be easy? And that easy means pain-free? Is it true I can’t do my job, or I shouldn’t have even come?

No! 

But here’s where I found something fascinating and interesting, right here in this question three: How do you react, what happens, when you believe these difficult thoughts about the pain?

First of all, I saw pictures of going back to the surgeon for a follow-up and being demanding, persistent, intense. I saw pictures in the past of how out of it I was for 3 months of no weight on that leg and how shriveled looking it was in 2013. 

But then I noticed something fascinating. A belief hovering in the background: I should never mention this, I will disappoint people if I can’t do my job, it is embarrassing. 

How I reacted when I believed this was….I pretended it wasn’t there. 

And by Day Four I had to lie down flat on my hotel room bed, take an advil, and let the wonderful person I was working for that evening know I couldn’t stand upright anymore, or sit. 

I didn’t like it.

An old story came into view about this pain: it’s weak to have physical ailments, I’ll disappoint people, they won’t think I’m valuable.

Yowser. 

see my grandfather, Mr Tough Guy. A lead surgeon at a hospital with lots of strength, stamina and opinions. I see my mother, also tough (and extremely into health and well-being). 

I see my mother criticizing my father for his lack of health.

I see my grandfather criticizing his wife and family for their lack of health or potential lack of health. Lots of emphasis on sports, fitness, perfect weight, no physical problems of any kind. Sick people are weak.

I remember the story of the treacherous race to the South Pole in 1912 when British explorer Lawrence Oates said to his teammates “I’m just going outside. I may be some time.” He knew full well he was sacrificing himself (he was dying of frostbite) so the others could trek on and potentially survive. 

So British. Which is, by the way, my ancestry (I happen to be a British citizen). 

Who would I be without the story that physical ailment or pain or absence of health is terrible, disappointing to others and to myself, wrong, something I go to war with AND something I should keep on the down low?

Wow. 

I’d feel the sensation of pain, notice the incredibly strong message it’s giving. 

I wouldn’t collapse in sadness within, I’d talk about what

I’m feeling without embarrassment. I might not “explain” with long stories so I can justify my lack of contribution. I wouldn’t worry about anyone else’s opinions. 

I wouldn’t make it “my” pain and something about “me” or something I associate with shame. 

I’d just move until I couldn’t, and take care of this body as best I could, the whole time. Not ignoring it. Not worrying.

Turning the thoughts around:

• I should be as I am now–standing as long as I’m able to right now (not as I used to be). Now is Now. 
• My easy life in a healthy body is not over. And, the original thought doesn’t even make sense because as a young woman I had pain, injury, illness in various forms over time. 
• I should have pain. Because I do. And it helps me rest and get quiet and lie down–mentally, physically, spiritually. Not believing I need to maintain an appearance or ignore this beautiful body.
• This pain is NOT preventing me from enjoying myself. I chuckled, teared-up, listened, belly-laughed all at the same time as my right glute has been on fire.
• I can be free with this thing called pain. My mind can be free to make friends with anything. My mind runs all over about a zillion other things besides the pain–it’s unlimited in its exploration, despite physical sensation called “pain” underway in the body.
• I CAN do my job well. I got up and worked every day, I followed the directions.
• My body is succeeding for me (rather than failing). Woah. My thinking is failing me. My body is sending a signal to keep me on the path towards healing, and acceptance, and compassion. 
• Those doctors/surgeons did NOT screw up my hamstring. They made the best suggestion they could, they applied their skill, and the surgery was successful at the time. 
• I should have had the surgery. It’s over. I did. I can’t know what it would be like without it. 
• My injured thinking will make it impossible for me to fulfill my dreams (travel, hiking, moving, playing, being)–if I keep believing my thoughts about pain to be true.
• My life is created (not ruined). Each day a new day, working with this body as it is. One day, this body won’t be here anymore–the way of it. Body, on its way out eventually. My thinking is what is ruined–especially when it believes pain is terrible.

I continue considering good reasons for pain to be present in my life. 

Noticing the mental and emotional pain in my life made me inquire into the nature of the mind, into suffering, into reality. 

That suffering brought me to my first School for The Work. 

The School changed my entire life–perhaps even saved it. 

Yes, I can find good reasons for the pain I’ve experienced.

Benefits. 

Thank you pain for being a part of my life and pointing me towards understanding, and love.

Thank you pain for allowing me to notice you’re not such a big deal after all. 

Thank you pain for bringing me to my knees in surrender. 

Thank you pain for allowing me to learn and notice what hurts, and what doesn’t, and to stop complaining and start inquiring.

Sometimes the ONLY option is to turn to what hurts, notice, do The Work, make the best decision.

Time to die to the complaining, the mental torture, the analyzing, the panic about the future. 

I’m just going outside. I may be some time.

If you’d like to sink into some of the pain you’ve experienced in your lifetime–whether physical, emotional, mental, spiritual–then come sit with me and my friend Tom Compton at Breitenbush Hotsprings for 3 days. Room for just a few more. Read more here. 

Much love, Grace

• December 5-8 I’m with the good Tom Compton as we co-facilitate a winter retreat at Breitenbush Hotsprings in Oregon (getting full)
• Eating Peace Retreat January 15-20 in Seattle is a wonderful adventure in freedom from eating concerns, eating thoughts, consuming thoughts, worries about fatness or thinness (1 more spot).
• Divorce/Breaking-Up/Separation Is Hell: Is It True? online course co-facilitated with the delightful Nadine Ferris France, begins again January 12-March 8 Sundays 11:00am-12:30pm PT.