I Can't Do This On My Own

My Most Embarrassing Secret

This week, I continue my personal journey into the gesture of Rooting. As I orient towards stability and commitment, I am discovering the stories I hold, which have made this difficult for me.

I’ve lived with chronic pain for over twenty years.

I remember the moment the pain became a problem. I was in my first year of university, home for the holidays, and writing an essay in my bedroom. Burning sensations were creeping up my forearms. I did not want to stop writing, so I didn’t. Later that day, I couldn’t lift anything, not even a knife and fork, without excruciating pain.

It didn’t go away, and was easily exacerbated by repetitive activities like typing. It became a defining feature of my time at Oxford. I used voice recognition software to complete my assignments, which required me to learn to connect my thoughts to my speech instead of my hands. I was incredibly fortunate to have an amanuensis for my exams: literally a whole human person who would sit and await my dictation for three-and-a-half hour stretches.

I encountered the limitations of the medical establishment for the first time. I was diagnosed with fancy-sounding conditions, which were really just straightforward descriptions of what I was experiencing. Lateral and Medial Epicondylitis, meaning inflammation of the inside and outside of my elbow joint, commonly known as Tennis and Golfer’s Elbow. Even better, due to the widespread nature of the pain, from shoulders down to fingers, I was told I had Upper Limb Disorder. Those upper limbs were certainly not functioning in an orderly fashion!

The NHS physiotherapist gave me some ineffective exercises and a book about the neurological basis of pain, through which she seemed to be telling me, “This pain is all in your head. There’s nothing actually wrong with you. If you just realise that then you’ll be fine!” Well, the pain didn’t diminish, but I stopped trying to get help after that. In hindsight, I was hiding from the shame I felt. Where there was, perhaps, an invitation to take responsibility for my wellbeing, I received only an implication that the pain was my fault and noone would help me.

The first respite came a few years later. I had to get really good at press-ups, in order to meet the fitness requirements for officer training with the British Army. Developing my muscles seemed to shield my tendons from irritation. The upper body strength lasted longer than my nine-week military career. It wasn’t a permanent solution, though. I am just not that into press-ups.

The pain has come and gone in waves, over the years. In the last month, it has become more widespread than I’ve known before, joining up different areas that have been problematic for me in the past. It can be anywhere (and everywhere) from my lower back ribs (nauseating irritation), up to the base of my neck (pointed pain), across my shoulders and under my shoulder blades (intense burning), down my arms (ripping pain) and into my fingers (screaming ache).

This time, it doesn’t seem to matter which activities I do or avoid. It can be painful just to sit or to lie down. I recently realised that this might be fibromyalgia (literally, pain in the soft tissues of the body).

“There is no cure for fibromyalgia”, they say.

Well, that’s as maybe, but it is interesting that the symptoms completely disappeared as I arrived to see Federica, my former craniosacral therapist, last week for a one-off session. Yes, before I got into her room, I was pain-free.

The body as a site of metaphor

In an important way, the book given to me by the rather tactless NHS physio was, I now believe, correct. This pain is psychosomatic. It originates in the mind, and does not indicate a physical injury.

It has become clear to me that, not only does “the body keep the score” of our trauma and emotional life, but it communicates the score in the language of metaphor - image, symbol, allusion. This is beautiful, because metaphor is a language that bridges the body-mind divide. It is possible to learn or tune into it and then follow along as the body speaks. (The broader context here is that ‘the path’ requires us to teach the mind to follow the lead of the heart and include the wisdom of the body.)

For example, when there is an emotional difficulty with speaking the truth, my throat tightens and my voice sounds dry and small. Similarly, the tension or relaxation around the centre of my chest (the spiritual heart-centre) speaks to how open and loving I am feeling at the time. I could give so many instances like the weeks during which I was clearing emotional blockages from my sinuses: stye after stye broke out on my eyelids, seemingly getting something unwanted out of my physical body. At the end of that process, I could literally see the world more clearly.

So this has become a way of intepreting what my body is experiencing. This can be particularly useful when I do not know why I am feeling certain things. I can take a guess, based on the metaphorical meanings of areas of the body. I suspect that the particular meanings are personal to me (and might be different for you): the connections that I am aware of from my upbringing and cultural contexts.

I arrived at my therapy appointment with an intuition that this flare-up across my back is about support, or lack thereof. I understand the back body to be connected to feeling protected and supported. As with the examples above, Eastern spiritual traditions clocked this a long time ago. In at least one Tibetan Buddhist meditation, the practitioner visualises their enlightened ancestors behind them, giving them unconditional support.

I connect the pain in my arms with my ability to create, to make things happen in the world. As I wrote in a previous post, it flared up when I began to write the two books that came to me on retreat in March. On a physical level, there is a chain of soft tissue up the back body and down the arms into the fingers. I imagine that the tension in my back and shoulders prevents my arms and hands from functioning in an effective way.

In totality, this pain pattern seems to speak of difficulty in doing the work that is mine to do, while feeling unsupported. That is definitely a story that I hold.

Bringing the story into the light of awareness

Arriving for my one-off session with my therapist, Federica, I was aware that I had stopped therapy in April because I had wanted to move into the next phase of my life. Now, I was held back by this pain, and I wanted help.

Leading up to the session, I had become entranced by a story that has recurred over several years. I shared it with my therapist without knowing how it was relevant. The story is that I will not be able to do my best work without a partner. I have held onto a vision of co-creating something amazing, an offering that would nurture and support many others.

I have held a lot of grief around this. I have wanted to be in partnership (with a man) for most of my life but have spent a long time without a committed relationship. Again and again, I have been confronted by the question, do I have to do this on my own? Sometimes I feel able to meet that challenge, but the pain lately has co-arisen with a strong resistance, a “No!” to doing this without a partner at my side.

I call this my most embarrassing secret, because another part of me wants to be seen as a strong, independent woman. This part has been feeling like a failure, lately. Despite having a vision of who I want to support and how, the pain has me falling short, unable to work enough to get this off the ground.

My hopes were pinned on unblocking whatever it is that has stopped me from being in a healthy romantic relationship. Unsurprisingly, then, it was painful to hear Federica tell me that no partner could give me the kind of support I was looking for. It landed, in part, as a permanent sentence to the prison of sadness and inadequacy. I noticed, though, that my body felt good: spacious, peaceful, supportive. It was just my mind / head that felt distressed.

The greatest gift Federica gives me is seeing reality more clearly. Although the transition from my false beliefs can be hard, it is ultimately strengthening and puts me in touch with greater love. This is a return to the core practice of the gesture of Landing. Life continually shines a light on parts of us that hold pain and are asking to be met with love. As we meet them, they are integrated, returning us to the experience of our innate wholeness.

“Of course support is part of a romantic partnership, but the pain you are feeling and talking about comes from the unmet needs of your little one. We miss out on a lot if we want our partners to parent us.” That made sense, and I felt curious and hopeful. I know that it is possible to meet the needs of my inner child through therapy.

We talked about the messages I had received about support while I was growing up. The key story was that support is something you get when something is wrong, and something you give when you are capable. There was no model for being supported to flourish. You were either a giver or a receiver of support. It seemed as if the givers did not need to receive.

With hindsight, this resulted in my parents working really hard for long stretches, interspersed with collapses, crashes, and emotional instability: what we now call burnout. Extremely common in this culture.

“You cannot actually help others if you are not receiving help.” I felt a little bit like I was being told off by Federica, as she reminded me that during our work together I had been learning that everyone needs support, all the time. It was true: I had essentially forgotten this and reverted to old habits. I had told her when I stopped therapy that I was going to find a teacher to work with but, having failed in my initial effort, I had given up.

We moved into the bodywork part of the session and she put her hands on the parts of me that needed to feel held. Relaxing into her support, I cried. I felt an inflow of energy from her to me. It was completely obvious that such nourishment is essential and natural. My creativity and loving cannot flow without it.

These gorgeous flowers would be nowhere without the supporting wall!

Starting a new story

Unpacking what I learned from that session, I had been proceeding under the false belief that a romantic partner is the only person I could rely on to give me the support I need to flourish in my work. I believe I was doing that to hide a deeper false belief that capable people don’t need support. Ironically, I think that the latter, covert belief was causing the debilitating pain. I couldn’t see that support is necessary even for well people, so my body made me unwell to force me to seek support.

In the following days, I began to notice when I had much less pain or was pain-free. It was obvious when I spent time with my closest friends, my women’s circle, and participating in circling online. Interestingly, I also had little or no pain when giving emotional support to someone I’m very close to. I think that was because it felt so meaningful to be there for her, as she’s been there for me many times over my whole life. That is Rooting at its finest: the connection nourishes everyone.

I still want to find a romantic partner! And I’m pleased to have dropped a limiting story about my needs.

I also want to find a mentor: an experienced older person who can give me one-to-one support as I get my business (coaching, facilitation, writing) ready to re-launch. I’m thinking, Good Father energy.

Any personal recommendations of good humans are welcome :)

With much love,

Rebecca xxx