tips for sitting in pain

I've tried to befriend my pain this month.

It hasn't been going well.

One of my biggest revelations with pain happened after my counselor, Becky, asked me, “Why are you attempting so hard to not feel pain?”

“Um, because I have too much to worry about. I have to keep functioning,” I answered. Also, rude.

“I'm wondering when you allow yourself to sit with the pain?”

Becky is always trying to get me to sit in my pain. Like what the hell? (I keep paying her though.)

Pain is beyond our control – it's a part of being human and doing hard things (aka showing up). When you show up fully in life, when you love, when you go-for-it, you'll inevitably experience pain at some point. We all experience pain, but we don't have to choose to suffer through our pain or escape/numb our pain.

Becky was right. I hate sitting in pain. I'd much rather prefer to stay busy – my favorite, unhealthy coping skill. But, our pain holds helpful information to what changes we might want to make in our life. Pain shows us the path to a deeper way of living.

So how do we choose to sit in pain well?

One of my favorite journaling activities for self reflection comes from the “Maybe You Should Talk to Someone” workbook. It's called - Picking Apart Pain.

Start with these journaling prompts:

• It's painful knowing that I ___________.

• For me, the most common source of painful feelings is ___________.

• The pain I've been holding onto longest in my life has been ___________.

• I notice new painful feelings caused by ___________.

• Other pain points that I notice in my life are ___________.

• I avoid siting in pain because ___________.

When we learn to sit in and with pain, we're able to recognize how pain functions in our life either in healthy or unhealthy ways. For example, pain about a parent or significant other who abandoned you/your relationship might keep you connected to that person who you deeply miss. When we're honest with ourself about pain, we can grow and change. We can connect deeper.

Daily, I've tried to remind myself, “Pain has a space here. I don't have to run or hide from pain. Pain means that I'm human and I'm showing up. I can sit with pain and survive."

I'll remind myself of this as long as I have to. Becky's assured me it will be awhile.