The sun warms my skin as the canoe lazily sways as we float the wide Missouri River. Cows graze on either side, the sun bounces dramatically off the white cliffs in the background. It is so quiet that the sound of silence almost seems too loud, broken only by the occasional “moo” of a cow or the rustle of my dog, Hazel, as she readjusts her reclined position atop our dry bags.
While floating down the Missouri River last week, I realized a few important things- in the way that one can do only when taking time away from day to day life.
One thing I learned is how attached I have become to certain routines. Even healthy routines can be harmful if we become attached to them- meaning we don’t know how to emotionally regulate ourselves without them.
For me, this was running. I have come to love running, as a form of stress relief, socializing, being out in nature, and staying healthy cardiovascularly. Obviously getting in the habit of running is a very healthy thing to do.
But on this trip I realized how much I lean on running for my mental health and wellbeing, and I noticed that when the opportunity wasn’t there, a little part of my brain started to freak out…
This is a really common occurrence for runners, or anyone who has a physical activity routine that helps them be a more balanced person. However, it is also important to understand that the very thing making your more balanced can also pull you off kilter.
This “runners withdrawal” is something I am familiar with and can see coming. The way I manage it is by getting out of my “emotional brain” – which immediately will go to worst case scenario (“you’re going to feel awful, you won’t sleep well, you’re getting out of shape!”) – and switch on my rational brain (this is only a week, you can run when you get back, enjoy all that is around you, because in a week it will be gone!).
As you can see, the rational brain is, well, more rational. However, it’s really hard to go to this rational place when we are dealing with the loss of something that keeps us from freaking out. If the emotional brain is allowed to persist, it usually perpetuates a downward spiral.
I have seen this same syndrome in patients who have undergone a surgery or severe injury. Their rational brain knows that switching to biking until their surgery heals will ultimately get them back to running sooner and more healthily, but their emotional brain cries out to them to “just go run now, deal with the consequences later.”
Tapping into the rational brain stops the downward spiral of emotions in its tracks. It get’s you back on course, so instead of paddling upstream, you can just enjoy the ride.
So how do we tap into this rational brain? For me, the red flags for when I am going to my emotional “freak out” brain are certain bodily sensations. My head feels hot, I get a sinking feeling in my chest, and a tingling in my arms. When I notice those sensations, I ask myself,
“Okay, what is really going on here?”
Or
“What would I say to a friend having the same thoughts/worries?”
This can be enough to click on your rational brain, and that can turn a potentially bad time into a good time! And who doesn’t want to have a good time?
So next time you notice you’re starting to go to a dark place with the loss of some physical activity that you love, or even a change to your routine that leaves you feeling muddled inside, follow these steps:
Notice your body sensations (the more you do this, the more quickly you will recognize your body shifting into the “emotional brain”)
Ask yourself, “what’s really going on here?” Or “What would I say to a friend having the same thoughts/worries?”
Rinse and repeat.
Even when you are in an idyllic situation- as I was, floating on a river with nowhere to be and a cold beverage in my hand, my internal climate was becoming a cloudy rainstorm. With the tools to manage my emotions and my reactions to those emotions, I was able to turn it around, enjoy the moment and return to my routine a week later feeling relaxed, restored, and ready to take on the world.
I wasn’t always an active person. In fact, growing up I was a total bookworm. I hated sports, I was the slowest person in gym class, and I spent most afternoons curled up with a book or watching TV.
In high school I started working out and watching my diet, and it felt really good! I was also getting more attention from classmates, the cool girls and guys who had never noticed me before were striking up conversations and inviting me to hang out. I even joined some sports teams.
Naturally, I became very attached to my great liberator, exercise. How could I not? It made me feel great, bolstered my social life, gave me energy, and all the other merits that we constantly hear about exercise.
But, there was also a dark side to this life changing health decision.
Exercise and Attachment
This last month I have been sick. Not terribly ill, but definitely not able to run and workout like I want to. And I think I have prolonged my illness to some degree by still pushing myself more than I should have. For me, I am so attached to the boost I get from exercise, that when I don’t have that in my life I start to get really down on myself. I have a good base in meditation and mindfulness practice, but I am still human and I still have my attachments. It takes quite a bit of work for me to “take it easy” and “listen to my body.” And how do you even “listen to your body” anyway?
Do I need a break, or should I keep pushing? (hint: you probably need a break!)
I hear it all the time, “listen to your body, if you need to rest, rest.” But then I also hear the opposite, “push yourself, when you are feeling tired, that’s the time to push even harder!” And, to be honest, I mostly end up just following the advice that suits my mood in the moment, but that’s not always the healthiest choice.
For example, in this recent bout of illness, my body was telling me to slow down, nap, drink tea and CHILL. But I hate the feeling of being unproductive, and when I don’t workout I feel that inner child bookworm creeping up. Or rather, I could say that I am attached to the feeling of being productive, and instead of asking how I could console this inner child that is struggling, I am pushing her away.
It doesn’t sound so good when I put it that way. But that’s the reality of it. To really understand how to actually listen to our bodies, we have to first talk about wanting vs attachment.
Getting Past the “Shoulds”
When I am really listening to my body, most of the time I still want to work out. I love the way it makes me feel, the health benefits I get, and the joy of moving my body in the great outdoors. The difference is that I am not attached to working out, because I can tune in and listen to my sensations and trust my intuition. So, if I get signals from my body that I need to rest, nap, take more time to relax, I can listen to that instead of shaming myself out of it. This is the goal, but that takes practice.
The most common way we disregard what our bodies are trying to tell is by shaming ourselves. My favorite guilt trip is, “Wow, you are being so lazy. You had so much you were going to get done today, and you’re just going to nap? How dare you! When everyone else in the world is out there working!”
Pretty mean, huh? If I talked that way to my friends, I probably wouldn’t have any. But it is not uncommon for us to talk to ourselves in this way. How can we allow for that? It stems from attachment, to the way we think we should act, should look, should engage with our world.
In order to be able to connect with our intuition, a.k.a. be able to “listen to my body,” we have to learn how to let go. To let go of the “shoulds” and get back to our sensations in the present moment.
Learning to Let Go: Two Versions of the Self
Letting go is hard. It’s hard because we feel like we are going to fall apart without the things that hold us together. For me, working out on a regular routine is one of those things. Part of me feels that if I skip a week or two of working out, I’m going to be horribly out of shape, feel awful, and be a hypocrite (because a lot of my job as a physical therapist is teaching people about exercise!). This is the part of me I call the Fear Self. But there’s another part of me that knows I’m going to be okay. This second part is what I call the Rational Self. She looks at the big picture, and knows that I will get back to working out when I am better, that by taking a real break I will heal faster and get back to my routine faster. The rational self is rooted in truth and fact instead of fear and worry.
At first, the fear self is always louder. She comes up with all sorts of reasons to be concerned, sad, and frustrated. She is small minded and short term focused.
The rational self is quieter, she’s always there but needs to be called upon to speak up. By seeing the long term results and the reality of the situation, she can make good decisions without being influenced by self imposed “shoulds.”
How To Quiet the Fear Self
To connect with your rational self means to listen to your body, in a real and non-superficial way. In order to do this, we need to first identify our fear self. By naming our fears and worries, we can clearly see how irrational and unhelpful they are. The next time you find yourself criticizing yourself, acknowledge that this is the Fear Self. Tell her that you see her, and you appreciate her concern for you, but you’ve got this one under control.
Here’s an example:
Fear self: “You are not even sick, you are just being lazy. You have all this time to be working on projects and getting fit and you’re not using it! You’ll never get this opportunity again!” (hint: all-or-nothing words like “never” are a clear sign that the fear self is talking).
Me: “Okay, I see you, Fear Self. Thank you for looking out for me, but I am doing what is best for me right now.”
It doesn’t help to get mad at or blame your Fear Self. That will just have the opposite effect. Instead, think of your Fear Self as a scared child, who needs comforting and consolation, not to be yelled at or scolded.
*Remember: listening to your body starts with being kind to yourself.
Of course, you won’t be able to catch every critical comment, but whenever you are able to go through the process of calling out the Fear Self, you are developing new neural connections that make it easier to do the next time. It is a skill to cultivate and hone.
Once you’ve identified the fear self, she loses her power. Just by naming it, you begin to see the fears and worries for what they are: intangible ways of keeping us stagnant in our old patterns. To move forward, to grow and expand as a human being, we need to connect with the rational self.
How to Connect with the Rational Self
Once the fear self is quiet, the rational self can emerge. Let’s stick with the example above.
Fear self: “You are not even sick, you are just being lazy. You have all this time to be working on projects and getting fit and you’re not using it! You’ll never get this opportunity again!” (hint, all-or-nothing words like “never” are a clear sign that the fear self is talking.
Me: “Okay, I see you, Fear Self. Thank you for looking out for me, but I am doing what is best for me right now.”
From this point, I can ask the Rational Self, “what do I really need to do right now? Am I being lazy, or am I actually sick?” Then I focus on the area of my belly or chest, and wait until I get an answer. This also takes some practice, but really it doesn’t work if you over think it. Just ask, focus on the center of your chest, and see what comes up. For me, the answer way, “Girl, you are actually sick! Rest up!” And when I heard that my thought was, “Duh! How have I been ignoring this obvious advice?”
The harder part is actually listening to that advice. And I promise you, if you continue to not listen, your body will make you listen. In the past, I’ve pushed myself to the point where I HAD to lay in bed for a while. That is my old pattern, to keep pushing and ignore those signals to slow down. I’m not perfect, that’s for sure, and it takes effort for me to change this pattern. Of course, doing the things the way we’ve always done them is easier. It’s an inertia, you’ll keep going the way you were always going unless some effort is applied in another direction.
So, as for me, I’m still working on taking it easy, and listening to those signals from my body. Sometimes I don’t want to listen, and I give in to the Fear Self. But I keep trying, and I’m getting better.
With all the latest diets, pain “cures” and workouts at our finger tips, it can be really hard to decide what works for you and what doesn’t. But the more you can connect with your Rational Self, your True Self, the easier you will be able to navigate decisions about what is best for you.
Have you ever struggled with the Fear Self, or had trouble listening to your body? I’d love to hear your story. Share your story by leaving a comments below.
