Is Your Body Actually the Backdoor to Constructive Growth?

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A while back I started some intensive chiropractic work in a bid to see if I could unwind some of the chronic pain I experience in my right shoulder, having tried a few other avenues unsuccessfully.

While I can appreciate its effectiveness in unblocking my nervous system (every session is filled with satisfying releases of tension along my spine and in other parts of my body), I’ve also become aware that the pain I experience cannot be attributed to a single event so it’s not so easy to let go of, it’s more like peeling away the layers of an onion.

If I had had an accident that had created pain, treatment like this could ease it relatively quickly. But when the cause is more a series of events that could be physical, mental and/or emotional, the path is less clear. Worse, I have a suspicion that the events are not necessarily relegated to past experiences, they may well be current day thoughts, actions or feelings that I’m (as yet) unaware of as being related.

To this end I asked the chiropractor whether she knew anyone locally who does somatic therapy/retraining. Somatic therapies are ones in which the body (the soma) is the guide, and the key is connecting the physical symptoms with a conscious narrative and feelings.

This led to an interesting observation on her part about common patterns she sees in bodies and the biggest issue she observes in the pursuit of getting back to a fully reset/healthy state (for want of a better expression). That is that people don’t make time to fully process their feelings, she says, so they get stored like another layer on the metaphorical onion.

As a person who has tended to be very in my head as opposed to my body, I have only recently begun to appreciate what she means. Until a few years ago, feeling what was happening in my body was generally secondary to me, and very unconscious, my body needed to be talking very loudly indeed to hear it.

But as I’ve begun to regularly meditate I’ve definitely become more aware of the connections between my mind, body and emotions. A key piece of advice I’ve heard from many quarters is, when I’m triggered about something, focus on where I’m feeling it in my body.

This has a couple of benefits, one is I start to become aware of patterns within me, the second is it brings my attention back into my body and calms my nervous system.

There are some great visuals out there that show what’s happening in a body when particular emotions are felt. In this Bright Side article it shows how emotions like happiness, love, anger, anxiety, depression, fear, disgust, shame, pride, contempt and jealousy show up in our systems in terms of blood flow and the effects.

For example, it says “when we are frightened, the blood literally drains from our face, making us pale. This happens thanks to the autonomic nervous system, the flight-or-fight control system. When we face a trigger, blood vessels pinch off the flow to our face and extremities, sending blood to our muscles and body so we are ready for either flight or fight”.

As someone who internalises a lot of my emotions, I’m aware that my nervous system has been in flight or fight mode for much of my life. And instead of taking the time to actually feel that, as the chiropractor pointed to, it was more that the baseline feeling within my body was a state of anxiety.

But to give a specific example, just the other day I read a negative personal comment condemning my perspective. The first thing I was aware of was a feeling akin to a general anaesthetic being pumped into me. The feeling started in my tummy and washed up and around my chest, and my thinking brain shut down. I felt startled, frozen.

Without attaching too much of a story to it, because every emotion comes with a story, I was aware on the edges of my consciousness that there was a familiarity to this feeling, but I just wanted to be present to what was actually happening in my body. My mind wanted to jump in and solve this; in short it wanted to keep me safe.

But what was obvious was that the well worn path for my norm in this kind of situation was to either push it down and get on with something more productive, or to start getting indignant and angry about it to propel me into action.

At this point, despite the allure, I resisted taking that well worn path, the chiro’s words still freshly ringing in my ears, and I just sat with the feeling and let it intensify while remembering to breath into where I was feeling it the most. It was uncomfortable, painful even, I can understand why I wanted to avoid feeling this feeling.

But after a few minutes of just leaning into it, like being hit by a wave, it started to subside. I could feel the ebb as feeling returned to the rest of my body and my brain started to come back online. I knew instantly that this reaction was an echo of unfair criticism directed at me as a child.

But as Glennon Doyle said “When we give ourselves permission to stop being the obedient daughter, we become the responsible adult”. I did not need to respond from the wounded child. This was not a person who was genuinely seeking to understand my personal conclusions, there was nothing to answer to, and so I let it go. For once, my body need not add another layer, weighing me down further.

As I was sharing this observation with my partner, we reflected on the many times in each day when we each might each feel discomfort or pain, and we push it to the side out of habit, not allowing ourselves to actually feel what is going on.

Traffic, that is something that pushes my partner’s buttons, and he spends a lot of time driving in it. Learning where that tension comes from (the narrative in his head), and how to healthily disperse it, is the optimal way forward.  

And that is what appeals to me about somatic therapy as it connects the psyche with the body, looking at cause and effect and how to approach things differently. Despite pioneers like the Peter Levine working in this field for decades now, it is still a relatively uncommon discipline among therapists.

But that is not to say that I can’t make progress. Just as I did the other day, if I use my body’s signals to tune into what else I have stored there in a bid not to feel the pain in the moment, there is much to be learned.

It occurs to me that our bodies’ carry a wealth of information, far more than our minds can consciously process. As such, learning to read our body’s signals can make an excellent doorway into our personal and collective growth.

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Take Your Broken Pieces and Make a Beautiful Life, Learn to See What Is in Plain Sight, Want Better Health? Be Shrewd About Stress, What is Your Body Telling You? and Why You Should Consciously Engage in Body Talk. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.