During the past years, and without really wanting to do so, I’ve developed a deep understanding of what it’s like to live with constant physical pain. This understanding has nothing to do with the science behind pain, it’s about the experience of living with pain as a constant companion. I decided a long time ago that it was in my own best interests to learn what I could from pain that might make my life, and perhaps the lives of others, a bit easier.
Before circumstances compelled me to make that decision, my “relationship” with pain was the same as yours might be. All that interested me was how quickly the pain was going to go away. When it became clear that this pain was of a different nature than what I’d experienced before, that there didn’t seem to be anything that could be done to give me relief, it also became clear I needed a new way to deal with it. That was when I started to see what I needed was a new relationship with pain.
The new relationship I’ve developed turned out to be quite different from what I would have imagined, because it wasn’t really about my direct relationship with pain. Instead, it was about my relationship with my experience of pain, because, exactly like you, my relationship with pain is mediated by my relationship with my own thinking.
As clear as that is to me, at times I temporarily lose sight of it, and my clear thinking goes off the track. I describe this feeling as “going away from myself,” because that’s exactly what it feels like. And when my clear thinking is restored to me (which invariably happens as soon as I allow my thinking to slow down) I describe it as “coming back to myself.” That’s the way the human mind works, and it’s absolutely dependable.
Three weeks ago, I had a knee replacement, and all of a sudden, a new, intensely insistent form of pain presented itself on top of the pain I experienced on an ongoing basis. Intense, unrelenting pain has a way of convincing you that it’s a permanent condition and that the new level and source of pain are here to stay.
I can’t remember ever having to deal with so much pain from multiple sources. Even so, I was aware that something was different this time. The something was a simple knowing that the real true source of my discomfort had more to do with the thinking my mind was presenting to me than it had to do with any physical sensation.
This time, I knew I’d be coming back to myself, so there was no temptation to buy into any crazy thinking about having to deal with an overwhelming pain that lasted forever. This clarity of thinking allowed me to see several new lessons about dealing with pain. One was this: when I’m in pain, there is no such thing as having too much patience with myself.
Simply realizing that has allowed my patience to expand beyond what I thought possible. It turns out, there’s no end to the patience we can have with a situation when we toss aside the untrue belief that patience is available to us only in a limited quantity. This is because patience is really just another of the many names we give to the properties of love. There is no limit to patience any more than there is a limit to the amount of love we can experience. In the end, patience and love are the same thing.
When you’re in pain, doesn’t it make sense to treat yourself lovingly? The way to do that is to be patient with yourself, and be patient with whatever experience of pain you may be having. This may seem like a small revelation, but when it took hold in me, it became obvious that suddenly, I was equipped with a new, increased level of resilience. This has made the last few weeks bearable in a way they wouldn’t have been if I’d been unwilling to allow my own patience to expand.
And all it took was a curiosity and willingness to look at what lesson pain had to offer me this time around.
