This Time Is a Different Kind of Pain

In my 13 years of experience as a yoga teacher, I consider the approach to pain to be one of the most essential aspects of evolution.
Whether you sit on the mat for an asana practice, a meditation session, or simply for a few minutes of Savasana (conscious relaxation), you will encounter pain—whether physical, emotional, or psychological. I’ve heard many mothers with babies who still couldn’t express themselves in words say, “If only they could talk, so I’d know what they need when they cry, it would be so much easier!” 

 

From the moment of birth, we experience pain, manifested through cries, screams, and wailing. At that stage, we can’t yet understand what’s happening, nor do we know how to express our emotions. However, as we grow, our survival instinct helps us develop coping mechanisms.

 

These defence and coping mechanisms are useful when we encounter difficulties in understanding and managing emotions, but in the long run, they can create limiting perceptions that, although valid in a certain context, do not always reflect reality. In other words, they can distort the way we perceive the world around us. This can affect our relationship with ourselves and with others, preventing us from leading a balanced and harmonious life. Ideally, as we mature, we should identify and manage these mechanisms. Everything depends on each individual’s willingness and ability to become aware of and correct these perceptions.

 

But where does pain come from?

 

Pain is the result of traumas. Trauma is any situation without resolution. The coping mechanism we develop only alleviates the suffering caused by pain. They are like a painkiller used for migraines – they relieve symptoms but do not address the underlying cause. In other words, we suppress our pain to avoid suffering, becoming experts at this process by the time we reach adulthood. From a yoga perspective, this is a form of illusion, of ignorance.

 

The bad news is that the solution to our suffering lies within the trauma we have avoided. These traumas are unintegrated information, but to reach understanding and integration of this information we need to go through pain.

 

But why is it important to integrate this information?
Even though we have powerful defence mechanisms, could we not just continue living as we are? 

 

Yes, theoretically we could. Some people choose not to take this step, others want to but cannot, either because they lack the necessary information or the ability to access these traumas. However, if you are here reading this article, it may not be a mere coincidence.

 

We are the result of our ancestors. We are part of our parents, just as they are part of their parents, and so on, from generation to generation. Just as certain traditions are passed down from one generation to another, so are traumas. If we don’t create space for these repressed traumas or pains to surface at a conscious level, not only will we perpetuate the same defence mechanisms and behavioural patterns, but we will also amplify the suffering by simply resisting and ignoring it. Suffering is directly proportional to the intensity with which we resist it. In other words, if we do not act, our children and future generations will suffer even more. 

 

From the yoga perspective, a person who reaches the age of 21 is ready to begin the process of self-discovery because, in addition to the physical and emotional body, the mental body reaches the maturity necessary to understand and manage emotions.

 

Returning to the title of this article, “This Time Is a Different Kind of Pain”, I always tell my practitioners to pay attention to what happens on the yoga mat because their experiences, approach, and reactions during the session are a reflection of their behaviour in their daily life. 

 

It took me a long time, even years, to learn to accept my pain during asana practice. To make myself as clear as possible, I’ll draw an analogy between the experience on the yoga mat and real life. The table below shows just a few essential aspects, enough to give us an idea, but the more we analyse our reactions and behaviours, the more this can expand. 

 

 

From the analysis of the table, we observe that pain is a constant presence in all cases. This is precisely the point—releasing the pain. In the first two cases, we encounter ignorance: whether we choose to flee from pain or attempt to confront it, the fear of pain underlies our reactions. Until we become aware of this fear, we cannot accept pain because our defence mechanisms are extremely strong. In the third case, when we reach acceptance, resistance decreases, and fear disappears. This acceptance connects us with our Self and provides a safe space to experience and process emotions.

 

In the first two cases, the more we resist pain, the more “bitter” it becomes. Conversely, in the third case, pain transforms into a “sweet pain,” as my teacher puts it. Sweet, because we realise that each pain can actually be our greatest treasure, as it becomes a miracle if we manage to understand and process it.

 

Personally, it was extremely difficult for me to transcend physical pain to emotional and psychological pain. Many times I believed I was in acceptance, but I wasn’t. The words of a dear friend, “It is what it is,” were words I repeated too, but I didn’t understand why they frustrated me. Although they seemingly symbolise acceptance, I realised I was using them from a completely different energy. I used these words to avoid pain, to sweep problems under the rug, saying “It is what it is, so I don’t want to deal with it or I can’t do anything about it” meaning a refusal to take responsibility.

 

Recently, I experienced a painful situation and, when I truly accepted it (not just verbally), I discovered, to my surprise, that along with the pain, I no longer felt frustration. There were no feelings of victimisation, judgement, inferiority or superiority, betrayal, abandonment, or rejection. There was no longer “I am not good enough” or “Who is to blame?” Somehow, all the questions transformed into clear, well-defined statements. What gave me the real power to release the pain was the liberation from limiting thoughts and trusting the process.

 

Authentic acceptance allowed me to see things exactly as they are, to understand both my pain and that of others, and to manifest compassion. Only the pain of waking from the illusion in which I had been lost for a while remained, but it is an increasingly sweet pain.