7. Pain

We should not let fear prevent us from facing and addressing our pain.

Pain is part of being in a body. Although our bodies are strong, and marvellous, and full of powers we both do and do not understand, they are also sensitive and receptive to pain (which is arguably a potential power, and particularly challenging to harness). Everyone experiences and tolerates pain to different degrees; this varies greatly according to a number of factors, including age, health, physical or medical conditions and dis/ability. Pain can be short-term and low intensity, or long term and high intensity, and anywhere in between. It may be mild and briefly annoying, a frequent source of irritation and frustration, or consistently and completely debilitating. What’s more, this can change from day to day, or even moment to moment, without warning.

Pain may subside, gradually and naturally, without much assistance. But it can also be a signal alerting us to something we must address: for example, hunger pangs indicate it is time to nourish our bodies; muscle or joint aches remind us that we are tired and need rest, care, or to make some adjustments to our body, schedules, or practices. All-encompassing, systemic, inexplicable pain – such as fibromyalgia, experienced predominately by women – can also be a condition in itself. Discerning between different types of pain, and learning what is needed to prevent or reduce the kind of pain experienced at a particular time – in the skin, muscles, tendons, organs or bones – is a life skill developed through time and experience.

While there is neither shame nor blame in fearing it, we should not let fear prevent us from facing and addressing our pain. This means developing physical, mental and emotional tools to first, relieve it to the extent possible, second, prevent us from turning it against ourselves and others, and third, if and when appropriate, understand it as a source of tenderness, connection and creativity.

We are responsible for dealing with our pain. Pain avoidance and denial cause much greater, compounded problems. So, we must acknowledge pain, and do what is in our power to address it. Wounded animals tend to lash out, hurting others in the process. If we do not approach pain with this awareness, it can become a source of tension in our lives, relationships, and our personal and communal histories.

Pain medications can be one effective way for dealing with pain. They can be so, despite the recognition that Western medical practitioners were bribed en masse by the pharmaceutical industry to overprescribe synthesised pain medication, causing an opioid epidemic and the resurgence of heroin and now fentanyl use across the United States, in particular. Derivatives of the hemp plant can also serve as pain medication. A note of caution, however: although legalised in many places for medicinal purposes, most modern cannabis has been bred to be much stronger and more psychoactive than in its naturally occurring state, such that its effects can be physically addictive and mentally damaging. With any medication, addiction and dependence are always possible, such that it can become a hindrance rather than a help. Practice moderation and caution.

Breath and body work are other potentially effective ways for dealing with pain, such as yogic breathing, stretching, ice or heat packs, baths of various temperatures, with salts and/or oils, massage, rolfing, acupuncture, and other somatic pain relief techniques. These techniques can be done alone or with assistance, and may be used singly or in combination to relieve various physical pains, which usually has a positive impact on emotions. However, while service-based treatments are not necessarily addictive, they can be expensive.

Explore your options and make use of them. Look for sliding scale, community resources around pain relief and management; consider trading and bartering services with others who have skills in these areas. Seek advice for your specific conditions from professionals who take a holistic and integrative approach to healing, and knowledgeable individuals whose insight you trust. For chronic pain or long-term conditions, make a long term commitment to treating your pain and finding regular sources of relief, if at all possible.

There is, of course, an undeniable disparity between those who are more negatively impacted or traumatised by pain than others, either as a result of experiencing more, higher intensity and longer term pain, and/or being systematically denied health care or appropriate ways of treating and managing pain. This can certainly manifest at the level of the individual, but often appears within groups and communities, with those facing various intersecting forces of oppression (e.g. racism, colourism, sexism, classism, ableism, homophobia, and more) more likely to deal with untreated pain and the manifold conditions that cause it. Racial capitalism, Sara Ahmed notes, has historically structured much of this inequity, functioning as a health system that produces ‘a drastically unequal distribution of bodily vulnerabilities.’ (1) While Vincent Deary (2024) says, rightly, that pain is a cost of being alive, the unique life stories that emerge from intersecting social structures of oppression and privilege mean that we do not all pay the same price.

The disability justice and crip activist community has, through necessity, developed valuable strategies for supporting each other through pain, including practicing mutual aid for survival. These commitments to each other clearly demonstrate our interdependence, and that it is not the sole responsibility of the person or group experiencing pain to deal with it alone. We all have a duty to care for one another.

However, a paradox exists in that capacity to offer material support is enhanced by positions of privilege with greater access to resources, yet these same privileged vantage points also tend to keep us ignorant of, or immune to, others’ pain. That said, no matter our positionalities, we can grow our awareness of each other’s needs, centring disability justice in our work, prioritising access, and doing what we can to offer support, ease or relief to people who suffer pain. In this way, pain becomes an avenue through which to connect, build and strengthen relationships, develop a shared history of care, and inspire liberatory futures.

While it is important not to glorify or valorise pain for its own sake, it is relevant to note its considerable relationship to creativity. Great artists are reputed to create from their suffering, while legendary writers deepen our understanding of the human condition through exploring it. For example, it is well known that Frida Kahlo spent most of her life in debilitating pain – from polio in her youth, to the streetcar accident of her young adulthood, to the miscarriages she experienced as an adult. Yet she famously had a mirror placed on her ceiling so she could draw and paint her own reflection when she required extended bed rest. Her pain thus became a source of her self-awareness and inner knowledge. This too is possible for us; pain can be a generative source of writing, art, music, openness, connection and community. It can also teach us simple but profound lessons about our bodies, respecting limits, and the value of stillness and rest. That said, David Lynch unquestionably knocks suffering off the pedestal it sometimes occupies in relation to art, reminding us that it is, fundamentally, a hindrance to creativity. Instead, creativity offers a medicine:

“Right here people might bring up Vincent van Gogh as an example of a painter who did great work in spite of—or because of—his suffering. I like to think that van Gogh would have been even more prolific and even greater if he wasn’t so restricted by the things tormenting him. I don’t think it was pain that made him so great—I think his painting brought him whatever happiness he had.” - David Lynch

The link between pain and beauty is another long-standing connection that should not be romanticised, but which cannot be ignored. Many indigenous societies have rituals and rites of passage around pain, such as tattooing for strength and status, piercing for adornment and signalling life transitions, and other painful body modifications that visually connote something special about the adorned.

Today, the idea that ‘it takes pain to be beautiful’ manifests in many ways – amongst them, lifting weights and exercising to achieve a desired body image, tattooing, piercing and scarification, along with other modern body modifications, gender affirming and cosmetic surgeries, permanent makeup, dieting and the side effects of weight loss drugs. While these are diverse activities in many ways, they can all be painful processes undergone in order to improve an individual’s perception of the beauty of their own body, as well as how it is viewed, received and valued by others.

There is the possibility that one can take any of these behaviours too far – such that the infliction of pain upon oneself, otherwise known as self-harm, becomes the point. Satisfaction is never achieved and the relationship with self remains fractured. In these cases, professional help is often required.

Yet, as much as possible, we should respect each other’s choices and journeys with pain. This means recognising both the social context which shapes it, and the similarity of its source in the human condition, ultimately leading us to acknowledge and honour the attempts we make to transform pain into something beautiful.

This content is for informational purposes only and should not be considered professional medical advice. Please consult a doctor before embarking on any kind of treatment or pain relief programme.

References

(1) Ahmed, S. 2017. Living a Feminist Life. Durham: Duke University Press. p. 238.

Further Reading and Resources

· (2018) Care Work, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna Samarasinha

· (2020) Disability Visibility, Alice Wong

· (2019) Adrienne Maree Brown and Autumn Brown, How to Survive the End of the World Podcast: Disability Justice Episode feat. Leah Lakshmi Piepzna Samarasinha.

· (2024) How We Break, Vincent Deary

· (2003) When The Body Says No, Gabor Mate