I was standing at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes, when it happened: I couldn’t stand up any more. I crumpled to the ground in pain and crawled past my nine-year-old son, collapsing in a heap on the living room floor. I’d been working with pain in my low back and right leg for months. It was so severe that I would cry every morning, dreading getting up and feeling the pain rush in. But I could make it through my days – until now.
After the sink incident, I spent 6 weeks lying on a mattress on the living room floor, unable to stand or walk. My doctor took a wait and see approach, hoping it would resolve on its own. It did not. The pain was electric, excruciating, and never let up.
I put on a good face for my son when he came home from school, but I was really struggling. I desperately wanted the pain to change, to leave. I felt terror and despair when it continued. My mind and body were racing, tied up in knots: What if it’s always like this? What if I can’t handle it? What if I never walk again?
My mom, who lived nearby, watched me struggling, her own pain evident in the face of my suffering. One day, she brought me a tape player with a cassette in it. She said it was a meditation. She thought it might help. At that point, I’d never meditated and felt a bit skeptical. However, I was ready to try anything! The next afternoon, I gave it a listen.
It was a man’s voice, down to earth, friendly and warm. He introduced a practice called the body scan, encouraging me to move my awareness through my body, letting things be as they are. This was quite different than the way I’d been approaching things. It was a long recording, about 45 minutes. At the end, I experienced a miracle: I had one pain-free breath.
I was hooked. This tiny window of relief was more than enough for me. As I continued my daily practice, I noticed other changes, too. I felt a little calmer, a little more able to handle the whole situation, a little less likely to spin out in my mind. I could soften my body and relax, even though the pain didn’t change. The body scan was a lifeline, a support, and a balm.
Perhaps you’ve already guessed that this was Jon Kabat-Zinn, the creator of MBSR, offering his classic body scan practice. I did one every day until I finally had an MRI: A disc in my low back had exploded and was pushing, strongly and relentlessly, on my sciatic nerve. The surgeon who reviewed my file was alarmed by the severity of my case. He got me in right away and fixed it. I woke up pain free. Whew!
I’m happy to say that this was 15 years ago. I’ve healed completely. But my love affair with the body scan continues. I don’t do it every day any more, but it’s a treat I’ll offer myself on weekends. I use it when I can’t sleep, or if I’m going through a stressful time. After 15 years of listening to the recording (which I still love!), I’ve gotten pretty good at guiding myself through on my own; I can call it up any time.
Another application: I do a brief body scan at the beginning of every meditation period, sweeping attention through my body and inviting ease before I begin working with the mind and heart.
The body scan practice helped me with the physical pain. It also eased my fear and anxiety, that feeling of being out of control. With the world as it is today, you don’t need to have a ruptured disc (and I really hope you don’t!) to have pain, tension, anxiety, and fear. I can’t make all of this go away, much as I wish I could. But perhaps a body scan could help?
At Mindfulness Northwest, we offer oodles of body scans as part of our library of free practice recordings. Many lengths, many voices. I encourage you to give one a try. Maybe you’ll fall in love, too.