It’s an exciting time to be alive. I feel so grateful for the research over the last two decades that supports what healers already know:
Your mindset matters.
Your biology believes you.
You may have seen a recent Huberman guest, Dr. Ellen Langer, detail the health benefits of “positive thinking.” She cites stunning findings and I was smiling through most of it. Yes, this is it! Our minds and bodies are the one! And moreover, our bodies will submit to our minds in most cases if we can just stay curious and courageous enough. Dr. Bruce Lipton is a pioneer in field of cellular biology as it relates to epigenetics. He writes,
“You are personally responsible for everything in your life, once you become aware that you are personally responsible for everything in your life.”
Ouch.
In my work I highlight the need to rigorously examine the stories we believe to be true. When we have a thought or an experience in our brains, it stimulates the production of various transmitters and proteins—your emotions become real, 3-D molecules that now exist in the world, in your body.
I diagram the pathway these molecules take via the HPA-axis all the way through the body until they reach our DNA. Then some incredible stuff happens that results in your genome being modified by that narrative. I call this a Cellular Story. Cortisol is the main player here, and is released whenever our nervous systems require mobilization. It’s most prevalent in the body when you wake up in the morning. “Rise and shine! Get going!” cortisol yells from your adrenals (the “A” in HPA-axis, wink).
It’s also released when threat is detected—think sympathetic responses: fight, flight, freeze, fawn. When a nervous system feels fear it begins a cascade of responses to try and restore homeostasis, A for effort. Only, cortisol is inflammatory. And inflammation is at the root of preventable disease.
I had a student years ago who was experiencing some significant discomfort during a trade in the lymphatics class I teach. Their student therapist waved me over and we began working through some PTSD symptoms that the “client” was noticing.
This kind of somatic emotional release (SER) is common in my classrooms. Lymphatics are autonomically innervated, which means they detect and receive the “fight, flight, freeze, fawn” signaling first, along with vasculature, smooth muscle, etc. I always teach that massage therapists are really trained to see and reflect with little flashlights and mirrors on our fingertips. We are there to mirror back to a system what it’s trying to communicate via pain, discomfort, swelling, etc. Then, we illuminate with questions and care.
Autonomically focused bodyworkers aren’t rubbing muscles, we are trained to listen to the quiet, intrinsic structures of a body. This type of approach leads to deep, lasting, healing because we’re inviting structures to remember. Instead of forcing the tissues to behave how the client or therapist wants or expects them to behave we’re asking, can these cells communicate what they need to create an optimal environment for optimal health? Can this system choose something truer?
Something truer…
And here’s the problem with positivity: A nervous system doesn’t actually respond to positivity, it responds to truth, to honesty. Ruthless positivity bypasses the genuine, lived experience of a person. Challenging a nervous system is essential to growth, and it must be done with nuance, care, empathy, and skill. Therapists must help our clients accept that more than one thing is true at once. I call that Goodhardgood. This can feel hard, and be good/okay/_____ at the same time.
I can be a tired, snappy, distracted mom and a good mom at the same time.
I can feel broken and be whole, at the same time.
If you had tried to tell me “just thinking really positive thoughts!” while I was hobbling around with a cane after my bone marrow transplant, I would’ve taken another five oxy. When someone is stuck in sympathetic they lose the ability to think creatively. When a parent feels stuck in a home that smells like diapers and lost dreams, it’s nearly impossible to think anything other than, “Woof. Get me out.”
What if instead of positive thinking, we aimed for truer thinking? What if we could relieve some of the burden by thinking one, truer thought? I say truer instead of true, because that stressed parent is still going to feel stressed. And that cancer patient is still going to feel pain. For now.
We must widen the window of tolerance, we must challenge the limiting belief. And in order to do that, we must honor what is while creating some hope and space for what will, or could, be.
Yes, I hurt and feel broken. And I believe there could be a day when I don’t.
I feel trapped, I need a break. I can ask for the support I need. They won’t be toddlers (or was that teenagers?) forever. Two true things at the same time.
It takes practice and time, but the better we become at honoring the fullness of the experience (the good and the hard), the better we become at re-writing the story, cortisol levels drop and homeostasis ensues—happier cells, clearer interstitium and tissues, reduced inflammation, symptoms abated.
Back to the student.
After class she wanted to chat about some of the language I had used to help her move through the discomfort in her triggered state. Using physical symptoms to address emotional blocks isn’t new (see: SERs), but she hadn’t heard anyone filter it through the lens of internal narrative.
I walked her through the CELL Story diagram, the model that was gifted to me by the gods one day after an epigenetics-heavy psyche class. I showed her how every time she felt that specific pain, it produced that specific thought and emotion (in her case it was “Die” because as a teen her dad expressed disappointment at her failed suicide attempt). Or vice versa, every time she felt the grief of her broken family it would cause that specific pain. The body and mind are one, I explained.
We sat with the story. “Die” was reeking havoc on her cells, autoimmune disorders and chronic pain made her life feel unmanageable. She saw how her cells were re-living the trauma of the event and how her DNA had been altered by the cocktail of 3-D emotions that were flooding her system.
“Do you want to write something new? Something truer?” I asked.
I didn’t tell her about the incredible research that correlates positive thinking to better health. I didn’t tell her about my own miraculous healing journey and how I had to painstakingly examine everything I believed about my history, abilities, etc. I didn’t dismiss her experience, because my lack of attunement in that moment would’ve been registered as a threat, “Claire’s got an agenda, Claire’s not actually on my team. She’s just like the rest of them.”
I asked her if there was space in her psyche for anything truer. Is there a more honest experience in there waiting to be noticed?
“I am okay.” She responded, tears streaming. And she was. In that moment, her system was able to hold two things. Part of her, still stuck in an old, deep, and organizational story, believed she had to die. And now another part was given permission to believe she was okay.
She put her hand on her diaphragm, the site that was spasmed and tight. “I am okay,” she reminded herself.
“Now every time you feel that spasm, and every time you start to feel the pull of that old story, speak the new, truer thing.” I remind her.
She nods.
“I am okay” is one of the purest truths I can think of. In our house we say, “We’re all gonna make it.” Because we are actually all going to make it, it’s just going to feel really human along the way.