I mentioned yesterday that I’m on my second try at getting through Vidyamala Burch’s Living Well With Pain & Illness: The Mindful Way to Set Yourself Free from Suffering. It’s taking me effort not because of its prose (which is clear and concise), nor its tone (which is helpful, non-patronizing, and gentle), but because I am pretty the poster child for “Frenzied Tuck and Roll through Life.”  While I’m very Type A on a great many things, and I’m not one who’s known to live life through peace and attending to the moment, I also realize that I don’t necessarily want to be this way.

I could use a little, well, tempering.  And not just with my health.  But I’ll start there.

So. I’ve read–twice, now–in this book about “blocking” and “drowning” habits of avoiding whatever the problem is, both of which I do, a lot. I’m very good at Avoiding That With Which I Want Not To Deal, which may be helpful for a few minutes, but far less helpful when one makes a life out of it. I don’t always do this–I’ve faced many Monsters and reduced them to smithereens (fear of public speaking to the point of panic attack if the teacher called on me or a classmate said “hello,” for instance), but I have many left.

The pain from fibromyalgia is one of them.

I’m not as bad off as many, or even most, with the condition.  I’m still working outside the home, I’m able to get around without help, etc.  However, it’s not my only condition, either, and as it looks like I’m going to have pain for most of my days for the rest of my life, I’d best learn some coping mechanisms that don’t involve going fetal and screaming for my Mommy.  (Not that I do that. I go fetal and whine, usually, and swear a lot.) I’m not about to give up my pain medications when I need them, but I don’t want that to be my only defense, either. Hence, exercise, acupuncture, less stress, and–I hope–mindfulness.

As the book explains, the Buddha’s Two Arrows lesson is one that wise humans understand:

When an ordinary person experiences a painful bodily feeling they worry, agonize and feel distraught. Then they feel two types of pain–one physical and one mental. It’s as if this person was pierced by an arrow, and then immediately afterwards by a second arrow, and they experience the pain of two arrows. (p. 20; Endnote to Samyutta Nikaya 36.6: Sallatha Sutta, “The Arrow.”)

One of the first lessons in the book to avoid that second arrow is to take inventory of all feeling when next the pain comes.  Not just draw arms for battle, but to quietly pay attention to all the body sensations, good and bad, without judgement. They just are, and some are pleasant (the kitty behind my head grooming herself) and some are not (the screaming aching in my wrists, hands, and shoulders, today).  I didn’t last too long before getting up, whining (just a little bit), and going for the medications and a bit of a massage from my long-suffering, patient husband, but I did do it. Without tensing too much.

For a few seconds, at least.

And that’s a start…