I read an interesting article once. It said, the feelings of being tickled and of stabbing pain are the exact same signals traveling to the brain, but at different intensities. So, the slight itch of a mosquito bite is only subtly different to the brain than a being stabbed in the leg. However, the experience of this is very different to us.
In my yoga practice, many teachers insist that you bring yourself to the 'edge', where you feel discomfort but are not experiencing pain. The words intimate different feelings. Whereas discomfort implies dull, persistent aching, the word 'pain' suggests something sharper, more insistent--again, a measure of degrees and our experience of it.
I tend to practice more rigorous, strength-building styles of hatha yoga. The poses are intense, the rooms often hot, where if you are not conditioned, you can easily lose focus and potentially hurt yourself. Still, the teachers push you a place of discomfort because that is the only way to improve your practice. My only distinction between discomfort and pain is that discomfort will not injure my body to the point of losing function--like the dull ache after lifting weights. But 'pain', the stronger signal, indicates that my body is going to be severely injured, and to the point where it will effect my yoga and the rest of my life.
As on the mat, so it is in life. Our culture teaches us that discomfort and pain are bad. There are endless ads on the television and internet for pain remedies of both a physical and psychological nature. Feeling anything negative is associated with sickness, and sickness is not viewed as a natural state of the body. With regard to the physical versus the psychological, I am just as wary of Prozac as Xanax or Codeine. All are supposed to suppress pain of one sort or another and return you to a functional state of normalcy... inevitably, so that you can work.
In my yoga practice, many teachers insist that you bring yourself to the 'edge', where you feel discomfort but are not experiencing pain. The words intimate different feelings. Whereas discomfort implies dull, persistent aching, the word 'pain' suggests something sharper, more insistent--again, a measure of degrees and our experience of it.
I tend to practice more rigorous, strength-building styles of hatha yoga. The poses are intense, the rooms often hot, where if you are not conditioned, you can easily lose focus and potentially hurt yourself. Still, the teachers push you a place of discomfort because that is the only way to improve your practice. My only distinction between discomfort and pain is that discomfort will not injure my body to the point of losing function--like the dull ache after lifting weights. But 'pain', the stronger signal, indicates that my body is going to be severely injured, and to the point where it will effect my yoga and the rest of my life.
As on the mat, so it is in life. Our culture teaches us that discomfort and pain are bad. There are endless ads on the television and internet for pain remedies of both a physical and psychological nature. Feeling anything negative is associated with sickness, and sickness is not viewed as a natural state of the body. With regard to the physical versus the psychological, I am just as wary of Prozac as Xanax or Codeine. All are supposed to suppress pain of one sort or another and return you to a functional state of normalcy... inevitably, so that you can work.
Well, to me, this seems a tragedy. In the desire to not feel bad, we take drugs, poison our bodies, overwork, then end up with little time for cooking well and socializing, and this American amphetamine lifestyle only makes us feel worse. And then in our exhausted, sickened state, we develop poor psychologies, insecure minds that spend all of this money we've earned on things to try to make us feel better--from plastic surgery to luxury items--when perhaps we are, for the most part, searching for a bit of peace.
Another, very different path is what I'm discovering through yoga. Yoga can be a way of establishing inner peace and self-acceptance, by not training to not run from discomfort and even pain, but by living through these things, accepting both the fleeting aches and the scars that they sometimes give us. In return, yoga offers us a steady center, the ability to weather any storm--a pilot license for our minds and bodies... from this path, pain returns to its rightful path in the natural order, as our teacher.
What took me many years to realize is that when you no longer run from discomfort, it no longer controls you. Great freedom is found when you can endure discomfort, and eventually pain, without reacting, without cringing. You learn to stand upright. You feel more human, raw and exposed but vital and strong.
When you begin to leave the fear of discomfort, you are more able to reach out to others, to be honest with your emotions, to forge meaningful relationships, and to, in general, live the good life. Not all yogis need to retreat to live in caves for their entire lives. When you can make it through your morning without a cup of coffee, but realize that you are just in discomfort and not 'addicted', then you can enjoy your coffee the next day and not make a huge deal about it. When you can enjoy the presence of your lover, but not feel the need to know what they're doing every minute of the day, you can continue to enjoy them for as long as you'd like without getting an ulcer. These things we call addictions, whether to facebook, your blog, or heroin--yoga, or any form of meditation, let's you understand that these are not real, that you have the choice, and that you truly are the pilot of your soul.
