Living Spinefully

Hello Friends,

Over the past week, I have tried to be more aware of moments when my mind is engaging in unhelpful comparisons or hypothetical “what-ifs” in my process of grieving. Through this, I realized just how much of a default mode these comparisons are for me. In these moments, I tried to practice a mindfulness exercise called “soften, soothe, and allow.” Softening the language I am using with myself, soothing the emotional pain of the loss, and allowing whatever emotions to be there, just as they are. If you are interested, there is a good youtube audio of this meditation here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbTyPgHf8z4&t=83s

Clinging to Identities

This week’s mindfulness attitude is letting go vs clinging. Buddhist philosophies on clinging teach that when something arises, we often become fixated on it being a certain way – either trying to push away the bad or trying to hold onto the good. This clinging or attachment exists despite the ever-changing nature of life and as a results, ultimately causes suffering. “Letting go” or “letting be” is therefore the attitude of allowing things to be as they are, without attaching to them.

When thinking about clinging in the context of my scoliosis journey, I was reminded of the ways that I have struggled with clinging to the extremes of my own physical capability, and how that shapes my perception of my identity. I often face the false dichotomy I have created in my head that I am either a healthy, fit, and active person or I am an unwell, chronically pained, and disabled individual. When I cling to either narrative, I ignore my own truth. When I cling to fitness, I ignore my body, its capacity, limits, and pains, and typically end up pushing myself too far and too fast. I then swing to the other extreme, clinging to my pain and my disease, resulting in defining not only my physical health but all parts of my ability to engage in a meaningful life by my scoliosis. I think in general, labels provide a lot of comfort, solidarity, advocacy, and community, especially for minority groups. However clinging to labels reduces our capacity to see each other and ourselves as multi-faceted, nuanced, and intersectional human beings.

I don’t want to speak for other people, but I would imagine there are others with invisible illnesses who at times, like me, feel they have to cling to their illness identity because of the fear of being perceived as “faking it,” and then not getting their needs met. But at least for me, I realize that when I cling to the identity of scoliosis and see myself only through this lens, I ignore all the other parts of myself that make me who I am. I am a white, bisexual, cisgender, middle class woman. I am a social worker, a daughter, a sister, a friend. A millenial/Gen Z cusp-er with the anxiety characteristic of both. I am a Midwesterner, a mindfulness practitioner, a bilingual travel enthusiast, and animal lover, and so much more. Living with chronic pain is one of my identities, and admittedly one that frequently demands my attention. However when I look through only that lens, I lose the ability to appreciate 1. my privilege – how some of my other identities fundamentally shape the support and resources accessible to me in my journey with pain and 2. how much more there is to me as a person. I start to see myself as only a victim of scoliosis. And, as a previous therapist said to me years ago (when I was clinging to my identity as a person with mental illness,) “you are not Laura Yuck. There is so much more to you than the ‘yuck’ you are facing.”

So my practice this week is to notice moments when I’m defining my past, present, and future by scoliosis and to try to remind myself how many other parts of me there are that shape my experience of the world.

As always, thank you so much for reading. Please feel free to leave a comment or send me a DM on instagram. I love to hear from you all and your experiences of these topics.

Laura