by Cate McNider (originally published here on September 30, 2020)
“In one social-science experiment, people were told to spend 15 minutes alone in a room with their thoughts. The only possible distraction was an electric shock they could administer to themselves. And 67 percent of men and 25 percent of women shocked themselves, choosing — as Richard Friedman, a psychiatrist, writes in a Times Op-Ed — “negative stimulation over no stimulation.”
That’s provocative, but let’s go a level deeper: What if the stimulus is not obvious?
There’s plenty going on in our heads right now—the lack of activity and physical connections, worries about health, economic pressure, negative responses, multiple options the mind serves up, etc. Let’s remember that the mind is never quiet: It makes itself useful even when it’s of no use, and has its own fear of diminution or demise. If there’s not outer stimulation, there’s inner stimulation. Whether we respond to either, and how, is the real question.
So what do we do when we’re alone with our thoughts? Well, how about understanding them?
It’s not a sad thing to say that we’re born alone and will die alone (regardless of the pandemic). We need to deal with it—and that’s not easy. We don’t know how to do it.
Our life is our own creation, but we tend to offload that to others—family, friends, employers, therapists, etc. We have this precious gift, but it comes with vulnerabilities that are scary. It evolves, gradually accruing layers to pad the protective gear and load on habits that can turn negative over time. That’s how we get the bent back, sore neck, strained eyes, defining characteristics of a 21st century posture. And where the mind goes, the body follows, delivering order and disorder depending on where your attention goes.
I’ve lived this. At 14, I found my spine deviating from its path—and it led me to study the mind, consciousness and physical inhabitation of the mind in the body. The 30-degree S-curve that peaked in my 20s is now back to its un-deviated upward vertical direction. Yep, it's possible!
The pain was so bad I had to address it. In my youth it was so dire, and so twisted with anger and frustration, that I sought out all kinds of alternative therapies. This turned out to be a gift—it gave me a path, however painful, back to myself. It developed out of a constant stimulus of fear, betrayal and family denial: I had no option but store the trauma to survive until I could begin to unpack it. Each vertebra was a breadcrumb on the path back from the witch’s house.
The irony is that ‘negative stimulation’ is already within us—it’s our vulnerability and the fear of facing ourselves, of making the time and commitment to understand why we do what we do. That’s why some of us choose an electric shock—it’s a distraction from being a singular entity in charge of our own life. It’s also proof of a stagnation in human development. We’ve become dulled and lulled into self-deception.
What exactly is so awful about being alone with one’s self? Why is being quiet so terrifying?
It’s not. The mind, co-opting our conscious control is the real enemy. Trauma gets stored in tissues all over the body, because we can’t process it at the time of the event(s). That's why becoming aware of where we allow our energy to be directed by the mind, is the fork in the road to wellness or dis-ease. At any moment we can change that direction.
It is every individual’s response to any stimulus within, before it’s projected outward, that needs awareness. We can only feel what we feel in response to either inner or outer stimulus, internally. And perhaps it’s because we can’t escape ourselves, or the pain within, that we create all these distractions. Over time, they build up and express themselves through automatic reactions, disease, injury, stress and unhappiness.
So, the next time you’re alone with your thoughts, try focusing on your bodily sensation—allow the breath to come in and go out, resist the incessant offerings of the mind, don't take a hold of them. Then, give yourself these directions: "I Allow my neck to be free; to allow my head to go forward and up; to allow my spine to lengthen and my back to widen; to allow my legs to release away from my torso; to allow my shoulders to widen." It’s not a panacea, but it can be a life jacket and will help you relax, rethink, and sense anew.
Responding to stimulus is a choice. Turn off the news if it’s bringing tension. Step back. Have a ‘lie down’ for 20 minutes. Make a connection—take conscious control of yourself by unlearning the habits that arose from misunderstanding the stimulus within you. Exert conscious control over the stimulus, so it doesn’t control you.
Cate McNider has been working with the bodymind and spirit for 29 years. Through every stage of her healing and working with others through different modalities, she now finds the Alexander Technique, most actively helps others address pain and stress. She is giving online classes during this time of 'social distancing'. President of The Listening Body® has spent three decades in the Healing Arts — spanning Massage Therapy, Reiki, Embodied Anatomy, Yoga, Body-Mind Centering®, Contact Improvisation, Deep Memory Process® and more — and has further sensitized her instrument through the process of Alexander Technique. Her AT training represents the culmination of a lifetime of work and study and a springboard for future creations. Cate is also a painter and published. www.catemcnider.com and www.bodymind.training.