Whoa, I took what I thought would be a brief hiatus to focus on our move to Oregon earlier this year and—poof!—became a blogger-with-neglected-blog cliche. But, I’m here now on this crisp, clear morning and so are you, so…welcome, and thank you!

We’re here in the midst of holiday season. Gathering with loved ones, whether joyful or stressful (or a likely combination of both), can lead to an increase in pain. Inability to participate because of pain, as we all know, can be distressing and sometimes heartbreaking. So, it’s time more than ever to step up the self-care and attune to our bodies and our minds.

I’ve done an ultra-modified yoga-pilates-physical therapy fusion at home for years. My practice, born of necessity and desperation, is partly comprised of various techniques I’ve picked up over the years. The rest of it consists of a bunch of things my body just wants to do.

Lately, my body has been telling me to switch it up and—wouldn’t you know it?— I saw a flyer for an adaptive yoga class. My first class led to a flare-up, a painful “Told you so!” echoing from my limbs, reminding me to be more aware. Clearly, I would require adaptive adaptations, but with the thoughtful help of my two new teachers, I’d make it work.

When we got to a pose that was too painful to do in any form, one of the teachers suggested I imagine myself doing it. She explained to the class that we can benefit from simply preparing our bodies for the positions and visualizing them. So, I engaged my core, focused on my breath, and did the pose in mind only. In other words, I acted as if I was physically moving my body.
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The suggested modification reminded me of the impact visualization has had in my life for so many years, especially since pain from CRPS and a complex spine condition progressed. Those of us in pain act "as if...” for the benefit of others all the time (behaving as if we’re not in pain, for example). So, think of visualizing as a way to project an “as if...” image solely for yourself. If your leg is cold and hurting, imagine it’s swaddled in a soft, warm blanket. If a venue (or a person) is overly stimulating, take slow breaths and gaze at the ocean in your mind.

Visualization is an accessible method of relaxation we can all use in our daily lives, even during conversation. It can move us from feeling stressed to relaxed in a short time.

When it comes to pain, we can use visualization to “trick” our brains into thinking something more pleasurable is happening with our bodies. That’s why my mobility limitations can’t stop me from getting the mental benefits of dancing to ABBA like I did pre-disability. Aside from being useful for relaxation, imagining is a great distraction,  and vital in my personal pain management repertoire.

Also referred to as imagery, visualization is one of many mind-body practices. These are activities which make a positive connection between our thoughts or feelings and our body's physiology. The goal of a mind-body connection is similar to that of any healthy relationship; for each to have a desirable influence on the other.

One way to achieve this is to focus on our breathing. When we take slow, intentional belly breaths, we increase the amount of oxygen in our lungs and bloodstreams. This results in our hearts beating more slowly and with less effort. The body communicates to the brain, "Everything's fine, nothing here to worry about!” The brain then signals a decrease in the release of stress hormones, which lowers or eliminates anxiety.

With visualization, we start this process in our minds. A relaxing image, like floating on a raft, makes our brains tell our bodies to breathe more slowly, and the heart rate follows. As long as we maintain calm visions, our brains won't send signals to tense up and breathe shallowly (as we do when we're anxious). Our bodies will be tranquil, as though we're truly being rocked by gentle water.

Envision hugging somebody you love. (Go ahead, take a moment here.) Your brain tells your body you’re safe, then instructs the stress hormones to slow down. Your conscious mind is doing the thinking while your subconscious mind believes what you think and see. Both are at play here, so that hug is really powerful.

To further understand this, in 2004 Dr. Giorgio Ganis and colleagues assessed whether the brain processes visual imagery (what we imagine) and visual perception (what we see) in similar ways. Research participants performed visual tasks of each type. Using functional magnetic imaging (fMRI), researchers assessed brain activation for similarities and differences between the two activities.

They found that neural processing for imagery and perception mostly differed in the occipital (visual information) and temporal (meaning and memory) areas of the brain, but responded similarly in the frontal (personality and learning) and parietal (sensory information) regions. Overall, the study concluded that our brains function alike whether we imagine something or actually see it. Amazing, isn’t it?

Zakai, picking up on our election night anxiety.

The day after America’s collective night of insomnia, also known as election night, a sense of yearning accompanied my fatigue. I need community. I hadn’t heard of any groups meeting up, and had no energy to be proactive. I figured get-togethers would soon materialize and I could join in. For the time being, I was on my own, me and my dog. 

In the midst of nuzzles and mutual adoring gazes with Zakai (Hebrew for pure or innocent), I put on my psychotherapist hat. I gained some perspective on my thoughts and feelings, and meditated. That helped a bit, but my thoughts continued. How are marginalized populations coping? How are clients I’ve worked with navigating this atrocity? What about those who will lose insurance coverage? Who’s out there feeling a depth of fear and despair I can only imagine?

I shifted gears to focus on love. I relished in the joy and gratitude of being married to my beshert, the one with whom I’m meant to be. At the same time, I worried that the new body of government could take away equal rights for the LGBT community. Fundamental rights, by the way, that we had to fight so hard for—and still do.

When in doubt, turn to the literary world. I channelled my childhood friend Anne Frank (I still have the tattered paperback from grade school on my bookshelf). “Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart.” The inspiration and hope her words usually offer didn’t come. Instead, I thought of my ancestors and six million others who were tortured and killed under a cruel, divisive dictatorship. I was sickened by the similarities between Trump and Hitler; it was like reading about the Holocaust from a book that wouldn’t close.

I thought about our dear friends, Martha and Fran, who put their love, intelligence and community-mindedness into volunteering. They consistently make peaceful strides toward positive political outcomes around the country. I consulted with my dog, "Now, what? What do we do? Right, Zakai, we need the wisdom of Martha and Fran!" They were away, but I was comforted knowing we would commune soon enough. 

At some point, I moved onto my lifespan of nearly fifty years; certainly there would be wisdom from experience, right? Nope, no revelations, not this time.

I settled into my go-to place of solace. Writing. I spoke while the magic of voice recognition made my words appear on the screen. This is about all of us… I need to look into the eyes of like-minded people…be part of something bigger. Community. 

As I wiped tears from my keyboard, a message from our synagogue popped up. That very evening our congregation would have an impromptu post-election gathering to debrief. Well, okay then. That night, I was reminded about the meaning of community.

Here are five ways community helps me—and can, hopefully, help all of us—with the agony of post-election blues.

1.    Ritual

At last week’s gathering, we used a “talking stone” with the word courage engraved into it. The stone sat in the center of our circle next to the lit candles (another of our rituals), available for each of us to hold if we chose to express our thoughts. It felt safe to talk, cry or sit in silence. Like the stone, ritual gives us something solid to hold onto when life feels slippery. The predictability is a soothing act of mindfulness that eases grief and anxiety. It helps our souls engage in a process of renewal that nobody with any amount of power can take away.

2.    Bearing witness 

Along with last week’s circle and sharing dyads, the subtler moments made an impact on me. I looked into the eyes of people I love and others I hardly know, exchanging empathetic expressions and raised I can’t believe this is happening eyebrows. We saw one another. When we bear witness to someone’s pain or joy, often simply by being present, we extend acceptance and support at the deepest level.

3.    Distraction 

I’m a big believer in this one for all types of pain. While we need to act, we also must take time to distance ourselves from political madness so it doesn’t consume us. Community settings offer volunteer activities, a great way to re-channel our energy. Distraction, especially activities that involve helping others, interrupts anxiety and ruminating thoughts. It gives our brains a chance to rest and refocus. 
 
4.    Belonging

Community meets one of our most primal needs, to belong. It’s right up there with oxygen and food, and the election outcome has threatened this for many. We’ve heard diabolical ramblings pushing a “You don’t belong” agenda. If we don’t fear for our own sense of security, we do for that of others. The campaign’s hateful, xenophobic rhetoric has pushed our buttons. (Who in this world doesn’t know the feeling of exclusion?) So, we create community, a place where we can plant our feet on soothing, fertile soils. Even more-so, a place to make others feel welcome and free to grow. No walls.    

5.    Inspiration 

Just as our shared values, passions, goals or identities draw us to community, our differences can inspire personal growth. Unlike Trump’s image of society, a healthy community isn’t presumptive and exclusionary; it doesn’t advocate fear and hatred toward those who are dissimilar to us. Community brings us together, and the energy can ignite motivation to rally toward political change. If we’ve been solely outwardly-focused, community can also move us to an introspective place, a springboard toward inspiration.

​Whatever your communities are comprised of— support groups, co-workers, book lovers, sports teams, religious congregants, neighbors, political activists or countless other clusters—it's a good time to delve into them. It's a good time to remember we're not alone. 

In solidarity…

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