We live in an anxious time, fear and shame are common emotions that rise up on a daily basis for many people. Yet, for the large part, we are uncomfortable actually taking the time to feel. Two years ago, I was assaulted two blocks from my home in Seattle WA. The blow broke my jaw in three places. As anyone knows who has experienced assault, the trauma as stored in the body takes time to release. I vividly recall the tremendous fear I encountered every day as the slow healing process progressed. I was terrified I would never heal, that I would face massive dental issues once the jaw had healed, that I would not have enough money to pay all the bills; I was afraid to accept help, of being exposed, to slow down and feel. Mostly, I did not feel. I survived.
Two weeks ago I had another round of surgery, this time to remove some hardware from the original surgery that had become infected. I did pay attention to immediate fears that arose — money issues, exposure, that I would never heal. After the surgery, I was afraid to take the pain pills because I feared the perils of constipation. The pain was so powerful that I had to give over and dose. Sleep was a relief, but the hazy drugged state of mind stirred up more fear.
Once again, I made it through the trauma shock and began to calm down. I realized, however, I was terrified to shave. First of all, the act of shaving is all about looking at my reflection in the mirror. I do not find this easy. It’s difficult to understand how ravaged and saggy my face has become. There are tension lines, my eyes squint against too much hurt. Secondly, shaving requires stretching and contorting the facial muscles to create smooth shave planes. Moving my face hurt. Approaching the chin became a fight to survive. The lower lip had been cut on the inside, and the stitches were slow to heal. Every stroke of the blade produced electric streaks of pain sensation. Worst of all was the numbness of the chin, in spots completely dead to the touch.
I’ve trained to be aware of my muscle organization, to feel the shape of my muscles/body as I approach any given situation. If I am anxious, my thoughts signal the body to tense up, brace, defend or shut down. I have increased my strength and ability to empty these thoughts, to hang out in the feeling, and to visualize calmer muscle organization even as I feel the anxious organization.
Shaving seemed insurmountable, however. I was vaguely aware that my pelvic bowl kicked back, which automatically produced a deadness and disconnection in my core. I could feel this, but visualizing the leg muscles organizing, keeping me grounded so I could be curious about feeling the chin surface as I shaved, instantly stirred panic. I made myself slow down. I sensed that the numbness of my chin triggered off deeper issues of not being able to feel. Tentatively, I touched my face with my left forefinger, exploring stubble. My finger felt the stubble, my right hand followed with shaving strokes. Fairly quickly my hands spoke to one another. It was as if they loved each other. One the guide, the other followed. This freed me up to focus on my leg muscle organization, to intentionally engage my hamstrings and adductors. I kept my pelvic bowl neutral and visualized my diaphragm descending and ascending with each inhale and exhale.
It was a rewarding experience! Instead of being afraid to feel the inability to feel, I explored the different range of sensations alive in my chin. They ceased to trigger off other, deeper issues. I calmed my legs down, they supported my core and I was able to coordinate my thoughts and muscles to work together.
