Alive At The Edge: Field Notes From An Endangered Species
by Jamie McHugh
Mechanisms for intervening and collaborating with our immune
systems . . . unused and forgotten, they can restore the rhythm
of life.
"Health can be viewed as the capacity of the organism to
regulate its own behavior and physiology, and produce appropriate
coordinated response patterns to a challenge. When an individual
cannot regulate his/her own behavior and physiology, regulatory
disturbances may take place that, in turn, may lead to disease
under certain conditions."1 What does it mean, to regulate
our behavior and physiology? We can look to the dance of the immune
system to give us an image of biological self-regulation. The
body functions within a certain normality, a homeostasis, a balance.
When a threat in the form of a virus or bacteria intrudes, the
body "amps up" with increased immune activity (cyotoxic
cells, phagocytes, etc.) as a response. When the danger has passed,
another "team" takes over to turn off this action and
return us to organismic homeostasis.
We see a similar phenomena at work in the autonomic nervous system,
which fluctuates between the sympathetic, or fight-or-flight,
response and the parasympathetic, or relaxation, response. The
trauma of HIV infection sets in motion an overactive immune response
without cessation and the body is not capable of turning off the
immune activation. This constant stimulation of the activating
immune mechanisms without a corresponding resting phase wears
out this function. And during this activation phase, the receptor
sites on the lymphocytes are open, making them continually vulnerable
to further HIV infection and destruction. Other auto-immune diseases,
such as lupus and rheumatoid arthritis, are situations where the
body is at war with itself as the organism cannot discriminate
self from non-self, an essential state of inappropriate or confused
identity. Looking at these conditions metaphorically, I am struck
by existential human conditions being reflected on a biological
level.
Vasquez, at the University of Texas, has indicated that the cellular
and psychological responses to threat go through the same developmental
stages: Recognition; Mobilization; Transformation; and Cessation.
We can think of the biological trauma of HIV as being analogous
to other forms of bodily and psychic trauma: abandonment, sexual
abuse, betrayal. States of trauma create a dissociation, a certain
shock, like the startle reflex, that temporarily inhibits the
fluency and movement of the self. When the trauma/stressor is
not adequately processed, transformed and resolved, the body/mind
cannot return to optimal balance. And very often the shock of
trauma backfires into a silence, a speechlessness, a lack of expression
that "freezes" the organism and interferes with the
full articulation of rhythmicity, potentially distorting the mechanisms
of communication and self-regulation in the body.
"People who feel emotions but actively inhibit their expression
(inhibitors) and people who report not feeling emotions but who,
in fact, express them to others through non-verbal channels (repressive
copers or those with illusory mental health) are the very people
at greatest risk for illness and probably have the worst prognosis
for healing."2 We live in a culture which is uncomfortable
with the life of feeling and expression. We have neglected the
education of what Daniel Goleman refers to as "emotional
intelligence", and to neglect this capacity only furthers
our estrangement from ourselves. As the soul is encapsulated in
a body in this lifetime, it is our task to truly take birth by
fire, to live and understand the feeling life of the self, in
all its permutations and nuances. The chemistry and movement of
feelings is vital for our cellular well-being as well as for tasting
the depths of our experience.
"McCraty et al, (1995) in their research on the effects of
emotions on heart rate variability, found that the elicitation
of positive emotions (such as appreciation) are associated with
increased parasympathetic activity, whereas the elicitation of
negative emotions (such as anger), are associated with increased
sympathetic activity."3
Very often this type of research is misconstrued as indicating
that one should only have positive emotions, and supports people
in the repression of uncomfortable feelings. Thus, it supports
our wishful thinking to not suffer and only have happiness, love
and light. Many Westerners have adopted Eastern spiritual paths
as a way to avoid or transcend the navigation of difficult life
experiences and the working through of painful memories. This
abdication of present reality is also reflected in the Christian
mythology of Heaven, a place of peace and no suffering. Thich
Nhat Hanh speaks of the Buddhist notion of inter-being, that the
garbage of our negative thoughts and experiences is the compost
which grows roses, that both are necessary and that it is a matter
of looking deeply into the garbage to see that the roses are already
there.
"Don't wish for, don't wait for, don't expect happiness:
just be it in the present moment. We need to know how to make
peace and joy out of suffering as the quest for no-suffering is
illusion, and creates more suffering: if you abandon suffering,
you abandon happiness. The material of our suffering is the same
as the material of our happiness. And the practice of mindfulness,
the attention to the breath, the satisfaction with ourselves,
allows us to heal this duality."4
What is crucial is that we can experience and express the full
spectrum of feelings, recognizing that each state of being has
valuable information for the organism. When we begin to judge
and differentiate feelings, sensations and thoughts as good or
bad, we limit input into consciousness and diminish our choices
and adaptability. There is speculation at this point that each
feeling state and its expression reflects a natural pharmacoepia
within the body that regulates its functioning. So we have within
us one of the natural mechanisms of healing, that of the chemistry
of expression. Sympathetic activity generates arousal and stimulates
the production of the hormones of fear and excitement. These hormones
of fear/distress have been shown by research studies to impair
aspects of cellular immunity in vitro. Yet as Fritz Perls pointed
out so eloquently, "Fear is excitement without the breath."
And the exhale, the expression of feelings in action/words, can
change a potentially unhealthy chemistry into a life-affirming
one.
"Primary emotions like anger, fear and sadness do not have
any harmful effects on our bodies. They alter our physiology,
but so does every biological function. It's only when we habitually
block feelings that they become the "toxic" states associated
with weakened immunity: anger becomes resentment or chronic depression;
fear turns into panic; sadness yields to hopelessness."5
Because the chemistry of the autonomic nervous system interacts
so intimately with our perception and cognition, one triggering
the other, it is important to know the mechanisms by which we
can intervene and collaborate with our immune systems. Whereas
it is virtually impossible to intervene directly with our immune
systems and its biochemistry, we do have the power to change our
insight and our responses, which alters our chemistry of feeling
and perception. Very often this cognitive reframing happens through
the meaning we give to our life experiences and the contexts for
meaning, such as philosophical and spiritual teachings, that guide
our perspective.
Psychological research on long-term survivors of AIDS has indicated
the correlation between enhanced immunity and healthy self-care;
maintaining connectedness; having a sense of meaning or purpose
in life; and maintaining perspective.6 Each of these criteria
overlaps and informs the other. By focusing on why we want
to live, there is the potential for a corresponding shift in the
how of life. This translation of intention into behavior
is the greatest challenge for humans, yet it is also the greatest
transformation. We can be reborn in this life by reincarnating
ourselves through insight and action, through reorganizing ourselves
somatically and psychologically.
This restoring of rythmicity to ourselves is a somatic task as
well as a psychological one, something that very often is neglected
in our thinking.
For feelings are not just psychic constructs but something we
feel as the tissue of our being, various sensations, a substantial
presence in our guts.
In fact, the inhibition of feelings is also the inhibition of
movement, and vice-versa, which we can observe in incongruence
between words and facial expressions, for example, or the steadfast
refusal in some people to cry. And yet the movement of feelings
very often is the motivation for movement in life.
"When we are angry, we're moved to correct an unfair or threatening
situation. When we're sad, we're moved to find comfort and contact.
When we're afraid, we're moved to deal with or escape the source
of danger.
"Emotions are the bridge between mind and body, stimulus
and action. When we chronically deny, split off, or repress emotions,
we're destroying this bridge."7
Bringing our attention back to movement and the life of the biological
self without the interference of the conditioned mind assists
in the cultivation of our aliveness, and our connection to other
life forms. The self-identification and proprioceptive feedback
of movement expression can create a base of support internally
for experiencing and exploring our feelings, relating to them
not as the monsters we may have imagined them to be, but as bodily
experiences of life.
"Feelings are energies which are given to the body and then
consciously experienced. They are not ours any more than the air
we breathe is ours. We cannot control them. We can only say yes...feelings
are part of the rhythmic flow, the stream of life. We don't make
demands on our feelings. We simply give them the space they need.
We attend, allow and respect. Turning the attention to the body
is the beginning of the process of compassionate self-care."8
Our abilities to care for ourselves through reflection, action/expression,
connection, and involvement can be seen as valuable ingredients
in health care -- perhaps even the most important. One could make
an analogy between the cessation response/the parasympathetic
activity with the ability to psychologically surrender to our
own inner movement. At a certain point, we all need to believe
that the war is over, that we can let down our guard and trust
the spaciousness of being which includes the full range of feelings.
And yet to trust is not a simple task as we make ourselves vulnerable
to betrayal.
The "betrayal" of balance is one of the strongest dramas
of human existence.
When we've been betrayed, especially by someone we are very close
to, it feels crazy making, like can we even trust that the sun
will rise tomorrow?
When we are diagnosed with a disease, the shock of the body's
betrayal very often drives us further away from our own center.
This realization that security, life, love are not guaranteed
traumatizes the innocent self and can have devastating consequences.
The inherent dangers of betrayal are responding with the dark
side of human behavior: denial, revenge, cynicism, paranoia and
self-betrayal.
I wonder how the "somatic betrayal" of illness affects
the implicit will to live -- as it is easy to imagine ourselves
as the perpetrator, the saboteur of our own lives, accumulating
all the wounds of a lifetime and projecting them onto this cellular
act. Either this profound wound can deflate us into a certain
state of hopelessness, or into a state of openness and reformation.
James Hillman, the Jungian psychologist, has referred to betrayal
in mythological terms as the end of innocence, the expulsion from
the Garden of Eden, the mortification of Christ on the cross.
This "sacred wound" has within it the inherent gift
of spiritual growth.
"It may well be that betrayal has no other positive outcome
but forgiveness, and that experience of forgiveness is only possible
if one has been betrayed.
Such forgiveness is a forgiving which is not a forgetting, but
the remembrance of wrong transformed within a wider context, or
as Jung has put it, the salt of bitterness transformed into the
salt of wisdom...Just as trust has within it the seed of betrayal,
so betrayal has within it the seed of forgiveness. Neither trust
nor forgiveness could be fully realized without betrayal."9
Our personal engagement with our own process on many levels is
at the heart of efforts to restore balance in the traumatized
organism that we refer to as self, this movement towards self-regulation
and organismic integrity. At a certain point, we are called upon
to forgive our betrayers . . . the virus or tumor, our parents,
abandoning lovers, society, even God. And in this forgiveness
is the seed of mature love which permeates our entire being, energetically,
psychologically, and perhaps even biologically. As Buddha said,
"You could look the whole world over and not find another
being more deserving of love than yourself." We can turn
the spotlight of compassion, awareness, and caring onto our own
being and act from that orientation. And perhaps this lesson of
self-love is the greatest opportunity we are given in living with
a life-threatening disease.
1 Kemeny, M., Solomon,G. et al, Psychoneuroimmunology
2 Davison, K. and Pennebaker, J., Emotions, Thoughts and Healing:
After Dafter in Advances, Vol. 12, No. 2 (1996) (This issue of
Advances is devoted to "Why Negative Emotions can sometimes
be Positive", a fascinating discussion on current research
and considerations.)
3 Ironson, G., Solomon, G., Cruess, D., Barroso, J., and Stivers,
M., Psychosocial Factors Related to Long-Term Survival with HIV/AIDS
in Clinical Psychology and Psychotherapy, Vol. 2, No. 4 (1995)
4 Thich Nhat Hanh, Dharma Talk, Plum Village, France, January
25, 1997
5 Temoshok, Lydia and Dreher, Henry, The Type C connection: The
Mind-Body Link to Cancer and your Health (New York: Random House,
1992) pg. 265
6 Ironson, G. et al (1995)
7 Temoshok, L. and Dreher, H. (1992) pg. 266
8 Schwartz, Stephen, Compassionate Self-Care, in The Sun
9 Hillman, James, Betrayal, in A Blue Fire: Selected Writings
(New York: Harper Collins, 1989)
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