Greetings ...
"Somatic Health & Wellness" is the focus of my work with my clients - the notion being, when we are aware of our internal experience, we can respond appropriately to whatever is happening around us. I find this most useful in stressful situations: when I'm most able to notice what's happening inside me in the moment, I'm best able to respond to the situation or person I'm dealing with in the most efficient or productive way.
I was practicing this yesterday when I was on the phone with my telephone service provider. Over the last few days, I've had intermittent and unusual issues with my phone line, and I've called Customer Service repeatedly to find a resolution to my problems. Yesterday, after being transferred for the third time (each time having to re-explain my issues), I began to really pay attention to my internal experience. I noticed the surge of energy building in my abdomen; I noticed my throat simultaneously heating up and closing up; I noticed the dryness in my mouth. But in addition to these sensations in my physical body, I also became aware of my emotional and energetic/spiritual experience. I noticed myself becoming, not simply "angry", but it was as if a rage were building inside me, preparing for explosion. As I explored that feeling, I realized it wasn't so much that I was angry -- in truth, I was feeling unheard and unseen. I was feeling powerless and dismissed. I was feeling unimportant and insignificant.
It occurred to me that I could easily let the rage explode and just start yelling at this Customer Service woman ... or I could "implode" and meekly skulk away from the interaction. But I realized that both impulses were simply an attempt by my Somatic Self to feel heard and to regain my sense of personal power and control.
Ironically, it was simply realizing that I felt powerless that actually helped me regain my sense of personal power. The Customer Service people were not responsible for my feelings -- they didn't reach through the phone and take my personal power. My locus of control was always within me, and as I acknowledged my feelings and reconnected with my internal experience of personal power, I realized that how I reacted (or better, responded) to my feelings of helplessness and powerlessness were really my choice. Sure, I could yell and slam the phone down and maybe I'd feel better for a moment. But I also was unlikely to get my problem resolved any faster, and I'd probably actually end up feeling much worse.
So instead of yelling or apologizing at the Customer Service person, I took several deep breaths and said to her that, while I understood she was just trying to fix my problem as fast as possible, I also felt she wasn't actually hearing what I was saying. Somehow it seemed that connecting with her as a person (rather than just as a faceless representative of a monolithic company) helped me feel empowered to explain my experience. In the end, she admitted that she didn't know what the answer was, and would have to research it further. Oddly, as I hung up, even though I knew my problem would remain for the time being, I felt this communication had in fact been efficient and productive. Somehow I felt that even if she hadn't changed her position, my choice to respond appropriately to my internal experience made the difference in how I experienced my interaction with her.
So I'll invite you: the next time you find yourself frustated with Customer Service, ask your Self, have I given up my personal power? Am I feeling victimized? Have I somehow allowed myself to believe that this person (or this company, or this situation) has "taken control over me"? You may be surprised at what you notice ... And if you do find you've abdicated your personal power and control, ask your Self how you can reclaim it!
I welcome hearing your questions, comments, and experiences.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Monday, February 5, 2007
Thoughts on my recent doctor's visit
It’s been several weeks since my last entry, and it’s been an interesting couple of months. Among other things, for the second time this year (2007) I find myself battling the symptoms of cold and flu. While I suppose many people would not find that news-worthy, as someone who usually only gets sick a couple times a year total, this is a situation to which I’m quite unaccustomed. For the past several years when I’ve gotten sick, it’s hit me hard for about a day or so when pretty much all I can do is sleep and try to drink water or juice to stay hydrated. After that, there’s been perhaps some lingering congestion or a cough that lasts another day or so, but then it’s over for months or even the rest of the year. I’ve come to expect that, when I get sick I’m out of commission for a couple of days, but in less than a week I’m feeling 100% myself again. So for me, two bouts of illness (each lasting a week or more) in the span of six weeks is at best unfamiliar, and leaves me wondering if my body might be trying to send me a “deeper” message.
Perhaps because my past bouts of cold or flu have been so predictable, I don’t usually go to the doctor or take medication. But ironically my annual checkup happened to be scheduled the week after my first cold, so I mentioned it to my doctor in case there was anything she thought I should be aware of. Not really expecting a response, I was quite surprised at how quickly she began recommending different medications to address my symptoms – take this for aches, take that for congestion. Part of me knew she just wanted to help me feel better fast, but for me as a holistic practitioner, I’m always surprised when recommendations are given with very little knowledge or attention to the wider context of the patient/client’s life. In other words, what if my congestion symptoms were actually an allergic or biochemical reaction to all the sugar, dairy, and fatty foods I’d consumed over the recent holidays? Or what if the aches were simply a result of having been sick in bed for two days? What if my flu-like symptoms overall were actually signaling hormonal or chemical changes going on in my body? None of that could be discovered if the focus was on solely on removing the discomfort of the symptoms; I'd miss the chance to listen to whatever messages my body might be sending me.
Another thing about my checkup appointment: my doctor has been urging me to get a mammogram since my 39th birthday, and this year I finally conceded. I have many reasons why I’ve opted against having this test over the years, but part of me theorized that perhaps I “shouldn’t judge something until I’ve actually tried it”, and it has been a useful tool to many women in the past. So with as much an open mind as I could manage, I set off to radiology to join ranks with so many 40+ women taking that responsibility for their health care.
But as the exam started, I kept hearing thoughts running through my head: "Are you kidding me? Is this for real? People do this every year? There’s no way I’m doing this ever again!"
It wasn’t that experience was bad – the technician was as understanding as she could be, and while it was uncomfortable it was not excruciatingly painful or shameful. Yet I noticed my mind telling me that I should detach my attention and essence enough from my body to just let the technician move and push and squish and stretch my breasts and belly and shoulders and arms to make for the best picture. But that was just the point: I do not want to detach myself from my body’s experience. I strive for myself (and I encourage my clients) to stay present in the body, to be aware, attuned, and attentive to what’s happening in the body. So it presented me with quite a dilemma: part of me felt “in order to get though this, I need to mentally check out”, but more of me wanted to be present and not check out but wasn’t sure how to process this experience.
I found that I had to allow both of those parts to co-exist for a long time after the appointment in order to understand my process. On the one hand, I kept thinking, “oh I should just stop thinking about it – after all, it’s over now, right? And yea, it was weird and somewhat degrading to have someone kind of pawing and handling my body like that, but if I stop thinking about it I’ll stop feeling bad”. But the truth was I had to honor the fact that I did feel degraded, and I did feel like someone was pawing me, and in honoring those parts of me, I got to let myself see that, no matter what the technician’s best intent may have been, this was my experience and it was valid simply because it was my experience.
As I let those different parts of myself have their say, I came to realize that much of my emotional reaction to the exam was related to touch. As a Somatic Therapist, touch is an essential quality to my healing work, but it can only be healing when accompanied with patience, presence, trust, kindness, respect, and grace. I realized that my body did not feel these qualities in my physical exam from my doctor, in the blood tests, or in the mammogram. Even though each practitioner had wonderful "bedside manners", I noticed that in my experience, I still felt poked, prodded, and pawed. I draw that distinction deliberately to emphasize that my experience was not "their fault" -- it was no one's fault -- yet it was still valid, and it was important that I acknowledge my experience simply because it was how I truly felt.
Now I know that if (or maybe when :-) I have my next mammogram, I'll know that "checking out" and leaving my body in the hands of a stranger does not give me the experience of feeling touched with kindness and respect. Instead, no matter how the other person is acting, I now know that it's most important that I treat myself with kindness and respect by staying present in my experience -- speaking up for myself, expressing what's uncomfortable and saying what I need to feel more comfortable, getting my questions answered, and so on. It's not enough to say "my doctor doesn't take time for me" -- I need to believe that I am valuable enough to deserve feeling well-treated, and respond to my body's needs appropriately. It may not make my physical examinations any more pleasant per se, but at least I'll know that I didn't leave "me" on a stranger's exam table being poked and pawed.
Thanks for reading; I welcome your comments. Feel free to contact me directly at AdeleCox@Youniversoul.com
Until next time, stay well.
Perhaps because my past bouts of cold or flu have been so predictable, I don’t usually go to the doctor or take medication. But ironically my annual checkup happened to be scheduled the week after my first cold, so I mentioned it to my doctor in case there was anything she thought I should be aware of. Not really expecting a response, I was quite surprised at how quickly she began recommending different medications to address my symptoms – take this for aches, take that for congestion. Part of me knew she just wanted to help me feel better fast, but for me as a holistic practitioner, I’m always surprised when recommendations are given with very little knowledge or attention to the wider context of the patient/client’s life. In other words, what if my congestion symptoms were actually an allergic or biochemical reaction to all the sugar, dairy, and fatty foods I’d consumed over the recent holidays? Or what if the aches were simply a result of having been sick in bed for two days? What if my flu-like symptoms overall were actually signaling hormonal or chemical changes going on in my body? None of that could be discovered if the focus was on solely on removing the discomfort of the symptoms; I'd miss the chance to listen to whatever messages my body might be sending me.
Another thing about my checkup appointment: my doctor has been urging me to get a mammogram since my 39th birthday, and this year I finally conceded. I have many reasons why I’ve opted against having this test over the years, but part of me theorized that perhaps I “shouldn’t judge something until I’ve actually tried it”, and it has been a useful tool to many women in the past. So with as much an open mind as I could manage, I set off to radiology to join ranks with so many 40+ women taking that responsibility for their health care.
But as the exam started, I kept hearing thoughts running through my head: "Are you kidding me? Is this for real? People do this every year? There’s no way I’m doing this ever again!"
It wasn’t that experience was bad – the technician was as understanding as she could be, and while it was uncomfortable it was not excruciatingly painful or shameful. Yet I noticed my mind telling me that I should detach my attention and essence enough from my body to just let the technician move and push and squish and stretch my breasts and belly and shoulders and arms to make for the best picture. But that was just the point: I do not want to detach myself from my body’s experience. I strive for myself (and I encourage my clients) to stay present in the body, to be aware, attuned, and attentive to what’s happening in the body. So it presented me with quite a dilemma: part of me felt “in order to get though this, I need to mentally check out”, but more of me wanted to be present and not check out but wasn’t sure how to process this experience.
I found that I had to allow both of those parts to co-exist for a long time after the appointment in order to understand my process. On the one hand, I kept thinking, “oh I should just stop thinking about it – after all, it’s over now, right? And yea, it was weird and somewhat degrading to have someone kind of pawing and handling my body like that, but if I stop thinking about it I’ll stop feeling bad”. But the truth was I had to honor the fact that I did feel degraded, and I did feel like someone was pawing me, and in honoring those parts of me, I got to let myself see that, no matter what the technician’s best intent may have been, this was my experience and it was valid simply because it was my experience.
As I let those different parts of myself have their say, I came to realize that much of my emotional reaction to the exam was related to touch. As a Somatic Therapist, touch is an essential quality to my healing work, but it can only be healing when accompanied with patience, presence, trust, kindness, respect, and grace. I realized that my body did not feel these qualities in my physical exam from my doctor, in the blood tests, or in the mammogram. Even though each practitioner had wonderful "bedside manners", I noticed that in my experience, I still felt poked, prodded, and pawed. I draw that distinction deliberately to emphasize that my experience was not "their fault" -- it was no one's fault -- yet it was still valid, and it was important that I acknowledge my experience simply because it was how I truly felt.
Now I know that if (or maybe when :-) I have my next mammogram, I'll know that "checking out" and leaving my body in the hands of a stranger does not give me the experience of feeling touched with kindness and respect. Instead, no matter how the other person is acting, I now know that it's most important that I treat myself with kindness and respect by staying present in my experience -- speaking up for myself, expressing what's uncomfortable and saying what I need to feel more comfortable, getting my questions answered, and so on. It's not enough to say "my doctor doesn't take time for me" -- I need to believe that I am valuable enough to deserve feeling well-treated, and respond to my body's needs appropriately. It may not make my physical examinations any more pleasant per se, but at least I'll know that I didn't leave "me" on a stranger's exam table being poked and pawed.
Thanks for reading; I welcome your comments. Feel free to contact me directly at AdeleCox@Youniversoul.com
Until next time, stay well.
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