The problem of pain, denied

People either deal with their pain, or they deal in pain. It's surprising (maybe?) where and how often this shows up. But when we don't deal with the root causes of our pain, we can't help but letting that seep out - and often it's more than a seep, it's a gusher. This is not the way it's supposed to be: picture quieter waters, more peace-filled thoughts and moments, more loving, forgiving relationships. Picture that, and then take courage, it's worth the effort, the time, the pain, of dealing with pain.

When we don't deal with pain, it compounds. It can make us irritable or withdrawn at best or angry and even violent at worst. There's a whole range of what happens at home and work, when pain is overlooked, bypassed, denied. But none of it's good. And, if we let it go too long, it can end up controlling us, rather than us 'managing' it. This is because pain plays a powerful role in our lives. Forgiveness and healing, of course, play a much more powerful role, but they can hardly reach us unless we're willing to face the pain, to acknowledge it, and to deal with it, effectively.

The problem of pain, denied: it compounds the pain, leading to more problems. Either we take control or we are controlled.

This article is not about why bad things happen or why there is pain in the world in the first place. For that, I'd recommend C.S. Lewis's wonderful work, "The Problem of Pain." It's a good question to ask and have answered. Rather, this article is about how to deal with pain, and why it's a really good idea to do it, now.

Pain denied causes other, secondary problems. It clutters conversations with red herrings and non-essentials. It makes us act in ways that drain energy, serve to depress. Plus, we risk looking foolish when the pain we deny is plain to everyone else. When the chip on our shoulder is large enough to spot across a room, people easily pick up the cue in our voice, on podcasts, in meetings, or at the front of a room. Pain comes through. It has a sharp feel, a brittle sound. This is not something with an easy work-around. It must be dealt with, effectively, before it will go away.

Pain denied compounds. It thrives in dark, cool corners. It has grown used to feeling sorry for itself; has probably forgotten what it feels like to feel good. And so it grows, or rather, morphs, becomes unrecognizable: tends to growl when we get too close, and so we learn not only to deny it, but fear it. You can see how we might live and work as less than who we are.

For these reasons, pain denied takes courage and time to deal with, and probably some help.

To deal with pain denied, we need help. I haven't met the person who suddenly decides to deal with long overdrawn emotional accounts and does so in a day, or month, solo. But, when they find help, then it's a whole other story. Life really is different on the other side.

When we find help is when deep-seated problems shrink down to size. Become manageable. This is when pain is framed as a common thing, rather than something unique and therefore scary. This is when prayerful reflection, finding a good coach or mentor, or interviewing a counsellor prove their worth. We all need help to see what we can't see; and denial is another word for blind-spot.

As soon as we say, "I have pain. I need to deal with it. It's affecting my life, my work. People are beginning to talk. But that's not what's important, because the truth is: I want to be free. I want to live without this stab in the back of my neck, cramp in my chest, jitters and imposter syndrome, nausea when anxious, etc.," as soon we say that (or something like it), we are on our way. We immediately begin coming back to ourselves. Dealing with our pain. Watching our problems change, become something doable instead of overwhelming. This is when we take control back (rather than acting like we're in control, when we're not).

Dealing with pain: this is when we grow in ways we never thought possible.

We begin to become more human, as we learn to walk and talk it out with someone with capacity to listen, care, and help guide. And in the process, we also grow closer to God, get more honest about faith, and unmet needs. In this way, we feel safer. Stronger. More able, more real in every area. And people begin to notice; to cast us in a better light.

This is when people see us for who we are, because we're no longer in denial of something core to our inner peace and freedom. They rightly see us as someone they can trust and befriend. Someone who deals with pain. Can tell their story. Knows what it means to be heard and understood. Someone able to deal, as a result, with almost anything. This is someone you may not recognize as yourself--yet. But if you're still reading this article, then that time is close; I believe, right around the bend.

We are all on the path. This article is an invitation to journey, more closely, together.

P.S. The photo for this article also appears on the cover of my most recently published book of poems called QUIET WATERS . I thought it was a good fit, given the stark contrast between the quiet waters that speak to the longings of our soul, our need to deal with the pain, and the turbulence we otherwise think is normal, even permanent.

FOR MORE ON THE DYNAMICS of the SPIRITUAL LIFE, visit www.daynamazzuca.com or check out my books on Amazon. Thanks!