On Pain
Have you ever noticed that you rarely experience pain leaving the body? We always notice when there is pain, and often notice the onset of pain, but we almost never notice pain leaving. One of the primary benefits of meditation is the dawning awareness of the shifting nature of existence. Emotions, thoughts, feelings arise in the mind, are present, and then dissipate. This is the nature of physical reality. Ebb and flow. Expansion and contraction. By resting in meditation and observing ourselves we are able to perceive the subtle shifting nature of our moment to moment existence. Pain is a powerful tool for your meditative exploration. We have a strong relationship with pain. An outsized relationship with pain. Pain is loud in our consciousness. We are very aware when it is present. But the lack of pain is quiet. The lack of pain, being a lack, is rarely noticed. Therefore an unexamined mind assumes that pain, because of its loudness, is bigger, lasts longer, and is stronger than it really is. We spend much more of our lives out of pain than in it. But we rarely notice the lack of something. The lack of an emotion. The lack of a feeling. And so we get the weights and measures all wrong. Pain is a presence in our lives. Like a person we have a relationship with. We remember it. We mark it. We talk about it. About its importance, about what it said to us, what it did to us, how it treated us. But pain is rarely present in our lives at all. If you think about one day, a 24 hour long day, and you consider how many of those hours are taken up with thoughts of pain, you will see that it is relatively few. In our worst moments we may experience a cumulative hour or 2 of pain. But that leaves 22 more hours (and often more) where pain is not present. Where something else is present. Where peace is present. Or over thinking is present. Or relaxation. Or focus. Or sleep. Or drifting. Or where nothing that we can identify is present. Why do we not notice this? Why do we not have a relationship with our friend lack of pain? We don’t notice this lack because we are often participating in life rather than attempting to understand it. We don’t notice this lack because we are creating, or sleeping, or dreaming, or being. In fact we often call pain back to us because we miss its presence. Because we expect it to be there. Because we feel lonely. We may come to the realization that we haven’t been feeling any pain in quite a while—an hour or 2 or more—but we expect its return and so we invite it back into our body, into our consciousness. It is powerful to notice this. Without judgement. To explore your relationship with pain. To understand the stories you tell about your pain. Is pain a boogeyman? Is pain an old friend? Does pain get you what you think you want? Sympathy from others? A sense of justification for yourself? How will that shift when you realize that you spend more time out of pain than in? When you begin to understand the ever shifting nature of physical existence—its impermanence—your relationship to your moments begins to shift too. Pain may be present, but you become aware that it will not always be so. Your old friend will leave as he always does. What happens then? Will you miss him? Will you celebrate his absence? The truth is that you will rarely notice. Pain will leave and you will not notice his going. Pain will be gone and you will not even miss him. Until you remember that you haven’t felt your pain in quite a while. Until you call him back to you. Noticing the shifting nature of your experience, the coming and going of pain, provides you with powerful understanding. When you begin to notice pain’s absence you will see that you are not your pain. You will see that pain is not what you thought it was. You will understand that pain is not an old friend. Pain is simply information. Pain is simply a sensation. Pain can be a sign on a door you keep closed. Pain can guide you to places you have forgotten to look. Pain can show you where you hold parts of yourself hidden away. Where you contort and clench. Trying to hide. When you change your relationship to pain, you can begin to meet yourself. All of yourself. Pain is not your friend. Pain is not your enemy. Listen to your pain without judgement. Without wanting it to go. Without wanting it to stay. And it will guide you to yourself.














