Can't Explain Pain

Pain is unexplainable in words. We can't talk it away logically. Find out a way to metabolize pain in this mini podcast.

Grasshopper Notes are the writings from America's Best Known Hypnotherapist John Morgan. His podcasts contain his most responded to essays and blog posts from the past two decades. 

Find the written versions of these podcasts on John's podcasting site: https://www.buzzsprout.com/1628038

"The Grasshopper" is the part of you that whispers pearls of wisdom that  seem to pop into your mind from out of the blue. John's essays and blog posts are his interpretations of these "Nips of Nectar." Others have labeled his writings as timeless wisdom. 

Most of the John's writings revolve around self improvement and self help. They address topics like:

• Mindfulness
• Peace of mind
• Creativity
• How to stay in the present moment
• Spirituality
• Behavior improvement

And stories that transform you to a wider sense of awareness that presents more options. And isn't that what we all want, more options? 

John uploads these podcasts on a regular basis. So check back often to hear these podcasts heard around the world. Who wants to be the next person to change? 

Make sure to order a copy of John's new book: WISDOM OF THE GRASSHOPPER – 21 Days to Creativity. These mini-meditations take you inside where all your creative resources live. And you'll come out not only refreshed but recommitted to creating your future. 

It's only $16.95 and available at BLURB.COM at the link below. https://www.blurb.com/b/10239673-wisd...

Also, download John's FREE book INTER RUPTION: The Magic Key To Lasting Change. It's available at John's website  https://GrasshopperNotes.com

Transcript

Can’t Explain Pain

Veterinarians may be the best at diagnosing pain on the planet—because their patients can’t tell them where it hurts. They can’t explain the pain.

Humans, on the other hand, are equipped with language. And somehow, we’re just as bad at explaining pain . . . even though that never stops us from trying.

My best suggestion? Talk about pain only with your physician or your counselor. And even then—it’s hard. Really hard.

One of the saddest—and most freeing—discoveries you’ll make in this lifetime is this: you can’t explain your pain.

Words are poor substitutes for feelings. They always have been. And they always will be.

Trying to explain pain is a lot like trying to explain infinity. We think that because we have a word for it, we’ve captured its essence. That we can just hand it to someone else through language. But pain doesn’t work that way. Explanation is conceptual. Pain is experiential. There’s no action in explanation.

Someone recently asked me how I felt about something. I paused and said, “I can’t explain the pain.” I knew it was there. I just also knew it was futile to chase it with words. I wouldn’t understand it any better—and neither would the well-meaning person asking.

Feeling pain actually goes against our culture. Just watch television for five minutes. Every other commercial promises a remedy. A pill. A fix. A solution.

We’ve been conditioned to believe pain isn’t supposed to exist—and that if it does, it must be eliminated immediately.

Now, let me be clear. If I’m in severe pain, I’ll be first in line for a painkiller.

But here’s what we haven’t been taught: how to explore pain.

Instead, after we attempt to explain it, we rush to medicate it away—painkillers, tranquilizers, alcohol, recreational drugs, overeating . . . the list goes on.

We make a basic mistake. We assume we’re primarily logical beings. We’re not. We’re patterned beings. And one of our most automatic patterns is this: “If I explain it one more time, I’ll be free of it.”

As my favorite Chinese saying reminds us—“Talk doesn’t cook rice.”

So yes, the sad news is we can’t explain pain, no matter how hard we try. But here’s the freeing part: we can explore pain—and move through it.

When we don’t move through pain, it lingers. It stays longer than necessary. It keeps tapping us on the shoulder.

Now, a quick clarification. This is not an invitation to ignore pain. Some people—the stiff upper-lip crowd—deny pain altogether. And ironically, they often suffer longer than anyone. I call them the “sackcloth sissies.” They avoid the real issue and substitute it with the minor, self-imposed pain of denial.

This is an invitation to bring awareness to your pain—and keep it there.

Your first instinct will be to flee. That’s normal. We’re not used to feeling. We’re used to explaining.

And this does not mean having an internal conversation about your pain. Awareness doesn’t talk.

Pain always has a physical component. So notice where it’s registering in your body. Sit with it. Stay with it. Hold hands with it. Explore the sensation.

This is how pain gets metabolized—rather than hanging around undigested in your body.

I could try to explain how this works . . . but that would just be more talk delaying the action.

Start small. Find a minor pain—emotional or physical. Bring your full awareness to it. Don’t fix it. Don’t analyze it. Just feel it.

You’ll get distracted. That’s expected. Notice the distraction—and gently return to the sensation.

There is something on the other side of pain. It’s just something I can’t explain.

All the best,

John