Say Hello to the Fire: The Radical Act of Softening into Discomfort

The treatment room was quiet, enveloped in the gentle, supportive holding of somatic and spinal flow work. My client was just beginning to settle when, suddenly, the air shifted.

An intense, burning sensation flared up deep within her body.

A few months ago, this exact sensation would have sent her spiraling into terror. And it makes beautiful sense why. When we live with chronic pain, our nervous system operates like a high-alert security system. The body tightens, the mind goes on guard, and the moment a tiny twinge appears, a siren screams in our head: “Danger. This is going to be awful. This is going to break you.”

But yesterday, something miraculous happened.

Instead of sprinting into full panic mode, she caught the wave of discomfort as it arrived. She paused. She took a deep breath. And she softly whispered to herself:

“Oh. Hello. I know you. You’ve been here before, and you have passed. I am actually safe right now.”

Instead of fighting the fire, she chose to sit with it. And that single act of softening changed the entire chemistry of the room.

She breathed and trusted the wisdom of her body.

The Danger of Hiding Your Own Compass

Our physical sensations and our deepest emotions are not inconveniences to be managed; they are a brilliant, built-in compass meant to guide us home to ourselves.

Imagine being utterly lost in a dense, dark forest. Now imagine that instead of looking at your compass to find your way out, you intentionally bury it in the dirt to hide it from yourself.

That is exactly what we do when we ignore, deny, or try to run away from our physical pain and heavy feelings.

When we try to bypass what hurts, the compass doesn’t disappear—the signals just get louder, more chaotic, and more distorted. Denying our chronic pain can easily trap us in a cycle of depression, exhaustion, and a heavy fog of hopelessness. When we resist our fear, it metastasizes into panic or paranoia.

But what happens when we stop hiding the compass?

We begin to discover the profound medicine hidden inside the signals. Fear, when we actually pause to listen, holds the gifts of wisdom and protection. Pain, when we find a way to stay in relationship with it, becomes a doorway to deep healing, growth, and unexpected clarity. By listening within, we stop guessing what we need and finally start understanding how much capacity and resilience we truly hold.

Meeting "Henry" in the Dark

When I facilitate grief support, I often invite people to give their grief a name, or even to sit down and draw its shape. When a wave of grief hits, it feels like it might swallow you whole. But if you can look at that rising tide and say, “Oh, hello Henry. We’ve met before. I know you,”  something profound shifts.

The moment you name it, you step into a relationship with it. It becomes an acquaintance you know, rather than a massive, dark, nameless monster that is completely taking you over. You are no longer drowning in an overwhelming shadow; you are simply acknowledging a companion on the journey, allowing the wave to move through you.

The exact same alchemy applies to physical discomfort during bodywork.

Your body fundamentally wants to heal. It is never trying to punish you. That sudden spike of burning or aching is actually just a protective pattern from your nervous system trying to keep you safe—it is simply using an outdated, frantic map.

But let’s be honest: healing isn't always rainbows and ease. Sometimes, it is genuinely painful.  Growth can hurt. Layers of old trauma and tension melting away can feel intensely uncomfortable. But simply naming that truth and honoring it—without judgment—is exactly what allows it to soften. You are no longer fighting reality.

You can take a breath and say, “Yep, this hurts right now. This is uncomfortable.”  And in that space of allowing, you choose to breathe and trust the deep, ancient wisdom of your body. You trust that whatever is coming up is coming up for a reason, and that it will pass.

When we exchange panic for that kind of raw curiosity, we rewrite the map. We can look at the discomfort and ask: What temperature is it? What color or shape does it hold? Where are its boundaries?  When we greet our discomfort with that kind of presence, the nervous system breathes a sigh of relief: “Oh, right. We are being heard. We can turn off the emergency alarm.”

Placing a Hand on the Fire: A Personal Practice

I hold a deep well of empathy for this because my own body speaks this language, too. Not long ago, I felt a sharp, heavy cramping ripple through me. Instantly, my mind began to spiral into an anxious future: Is my endometriosis back? Is my back about to lock up? Am I going to have to cancel all my clients?  Catching the spiral, I paused. I took a breath, placed my hand tenderly on my stomach, and pulled out my inner compass. I simply named what was there.

“Okay. Right now, this is a deep, gnawing, black-and-turning ache. And it has some jagged red outlines.”

I didn’t try to fix it. I just breathed into it. I chose to stay with it rather than wage war against it. And as I did, the sharp edges began to soften, and the intensity subsided. Even when the discomfort doesn't completely vanish, practicing that presence stops the pain from escalating into the worst-case scenarios our minds create and invites us to be with what's happening "now."

The Ripple Effect of Softening

Trying to fight chronic pain or inflammation is like trying to swim upstream against a raging river, or beating your head against a brick wall. Your body is already  activated. Fighting it only adds fuel to the fire, turning up the volume on an already exhausted nervous system.

When you learn to soften and simply be  with the sensation—whether through Spinal Flow, craniosacral work, or your own gentle breath—you give your nervous system permission to stand down.

Even if it only calms by five percent, that small shift creates a beautiful ripple effect throughout your entire being.

• The white-knuckle grip of your muscles begins to release.

• The deep, protective armor melts away.

• Your breath slows and deepens

• Your mind clears, allowing you to become truly present to what you need in the present moment.

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Next time your body flashes an intense warning sign, see if you can pause. Place a hand on your heart or on the ache, and just say hello to it. You might be beautifully surprised by how quickly it decides it doesn't need to scream anymore.

A Note for Those in the Deep of It

To those of you who have lived with chronic pain, or are living with it right now: my heart goes out to you so deeply. I feel for you. Living with pain can be an incredibly lonely journey, and it's easy to feel like you are stranded in that dark forest all by yourself.

In my own life, Spinal Flow, Craniosacral therapy, somatic work, and Spiritual Direction have been hugely influential in helping me form a gentle relationship with my chronic pain and learning how to truly soften into it.

If you are feeling lost, hopeless, or just incredibly tired of being told that you are “just going to have to live with it” or simply take more medication, please know you are not alone.

If you want to talk about it and explore how these gentle modalities might help you rewrite your own map, I would be deeply honored to be there for you, to listen, and to hold space for your healing journey.

Sharing our stories and walking this path together helps us see the truest reality of all: you are so much bigger, deeper, and more resilient than your pain.

A Moment for Reflection:  Does your body have a familiar "alarm bell" sensation that tends to panic you? How might it feel to stop, check your inner compass, and just breathe with it and get curious the next time it arrives? I would be honored to hold space for you to practice this in our next session together.