Going with the Flow: Take a Vacation from Pain

 

 

Sitting in the Queen Anne’s chair by the window, a sleeping cat at my feet, I sigh and start reading Jo Beverly’s newest novel. The phone rings. Startled, I realize three hours have passed. My world has become Regency England, and while I am there, I’m no longer in pain. Instead, I’ve been in flow.

 

Fibromyalgia pain has been my constant companion for 15 years, at my side during each massage, on every walk, refusing to go away even when I’m taking prescription painkillers. Sometimes it’s just the feeling that everything that touches my skin, including the softest silk, is uncomfortable. The worst pain is what I have named "the ice pick": an acute deep muscle pain that radiates through the surrounding muscles, as if someone had cooled an ice pick in dry ice, then stuck it in a trigger point. But I’ve found a way to take a vacation from pain: I found out about flow.

 

When you are completely absorbed in something you love doing, when time ceases to exist, you are in flow. You could be reading a book; gardening; woodworking; playing a musical instrument; practicing aikido; dancing; playing bridge; making love; playing soccer; visiting with a friend; or, for the fortunate, working.

 

Flow is a state of mind characterized by a harmony of thought, desire, and feeling, when you are neither bored nor anxious, your skills almost meet the level of your challenges, and you can immediately judge your progress. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, who coined the term, has studied flow for decades, and has found it to be the defining characteristic of happiness and fulfillment. Another term he uses is "optimal experience." Whatever you are doing, if you are at one with it, in the zone, having a peak experience, grooving with the music, entranced, or following your bliss, you are probably in flow.

 

My favorite days are ones spent sewing. Climbing the stairs, I can feel each ache and pain, from calf muscles that are too tight to that place under my left shoulder blade where the ice pick seems to be lodged. I turn off the phone, open the windows, and perhaps turn on some music. Reaching for the quilt blocks I finished last week, I contemplate their arrangement in the quilt, whether or not to set them on point, if sashing is needed, border possibilities, and color choices. The challenges of putting the blocks together are just beyond my skills, but I’m determined to finish the quilt. Soon I’m immersed in fabric, surrounded by music and purring cats, oblivious to anything that doesn’t pertain to finishing the quilt. I’m in flow.

 

In flow, I don’t worry about the strange noise my car has started making. I miss lunch because I’m not aware of being hungry. Not once do I think about what I’m wearing or whether my hair needs coloring. Time ceases to exist. Even finishing the quilt becomes secondary: my enjoyment comes from the process. And, best of all, I no longer realize that I’m in pain, not because the pain has ceased, but because my attention is so focused I ignore it automatically.

 

Now I structure my life to increase my chances for experiencing flow, and actively pursue it as a means of pain management and relief. I set an alarm clock rather than wear my watch, so I’m not distracted by what time I have to start dinner. (Setting the alarm clock also prevents me from exhausting myself by working too long.) I turn off the phone to avoid interruptions. I ask my boyfriend not to distract me. I play familiar music to block out noise. Often it’s the same CD over and over, since my focus isn’t listening to the music.

 

In his book, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience (1), Dr. Csikszentmihalyi notes that almost any activity can become a flow activity. An engaging conversation, driving a car, a long walk, and rocking a baby to sleep can all become optimal experiences. People use flow to survive unbearable isolation. Prisoners survive by devising internal games to play or challenges to meet. Assembly line workers do the same, integrating flow into their workday. Addictive behavior can arise from a desire to recapture the feeling of flow one can find in gambling or shopping. A thief may continue to commit crimes for the joy of being in flow, rather than for wealth. One person may hate public speaking or being on stage, while another revels in front of a crowd, fully in flow.

 

If you want to forget your pain for a few hours, cultivate activities that foster flow. According to Dr. Csikszentmihalyi, the steps you need to take are (2):

  • Have a clear set of goals to strive for, recognize the challenges, develop skills, and pay attention to the feedback.
  • Become immersed and deeply involved in the activity.
  • Pay attention to what is happening, but don’t be self-conscious.
  • Learn to enjoy immediate experiences.

The next time you wish you could take a vacation from pain, pick up a good book or work on a favorite hobby. Eliminate distractions and throw yourself into it. As you enter flow you’ll forget your pain and worries, and return feeling fulfilled and less overwhelmed by your fibromyalgia symptoms.

  1. Other books he has written on this topic include Finding Flow: The Psychology of Engagement in Everyday Life, and Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention.
  2. These points, with further explanation, are taken from Chapter 9 of Flow, "Cheating Chaos."
 
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