What if time plus effort doesn’t always equal progress?
What if time plus effort doesn’t always equal progress?
There’s a longstanding assumption within rehab fields that with concerted practices, exercises, or ~work~, over a distinct period of time, change and success will flourish. A lot of this (I think) is derived from some of the pitfalls of how scientific studies work in a profit-driven society. Universities and research groups only have a certain amount of money to perform a certain set of interventions over a certain period of time. So we’re left with an assumption that these interventions and time periods are translatable to the person standing in front of us, which often robs the person of their unique complexity.
A theme that’s come up in my work with several folks lately is something we all know innately: healing is non-linear. But I want to break that down a little more to identify some of the assumptions we can make when trying to move towards goals in rehab, especially regarding pelvic pain, trauma, or any other kind of pelvic floor dysfunction.
When effort has a sympathetic charge
There’s a high correlation in pelvic pain research between anxiety and/or trauma, and pelvic floor dysfunction. What happens if/when the subject of a person’s sense of hypervigilance is their own healing? Especially in such a time-scarce culture, healing can feel like another part-time job required to feel better. There are times when I think this is can be necessary. But when our movement towards some kind of change in our bodies is driven by the same stress that contributes to the pain in our bodies, how can we reorient towards another approach?
As we have moved towards more commodified wellness industries, what are the ways our expectations of perfect health and wellness, often fueled by hyper-individudalism and ableism, reinforce a sense of fight and flight in the body? That’s why I’m so focused on accessibility in my work: how can we make this as easeful as possible? Our lives are hard and complicated enough. What is that one small, bite sized thing that you know you can commit to? How can we work towards some level of consistency, rather than only trying to do our home program when we feel like we have a full 30 minutes available?
What’s your relationship to effort? When you think of working towards a goal, does it feel all or nothing? How do you ask for support, whether through friends, therapists, or other resource, to guide you in your goals?
The body often clings to what it knows, even if it’s not serving the person, because it feels safer. How do we continue establishing safety in order to move towards something different?
Healing and Time
I’ve written about this before, but as Americans, we are obsessed with linear time. The calendar and the clock drives our actions, the way perceive change, and what we expect out of seeking help.
We have this idea that if we can apply enough effort towards our goals over time, that we will inevitably seek success or progress. But what if there are so many unpredictable factors that impact how our body integrates any change work? When I worked in early intervention, it was quite common that a family would go on vacation and suddenly see a strong growth spurt in terms of motor and language skills in their little ones. There could be so many factors influencing this, but it was a great example of how we can’t always control how and why work integrates. What does it look like to trust the non-linearity of healing? Here are some examples of “random” life changes that could positively influence a person’s pelvic healing timeline:
-An important conversation with a friend
-A small dietary change that leads to pooping more
-Moving to a different department at work
-Walking a lot on vacation
-Wearing a sleep mask
-Joining a choir
-Getting more childcare
-Taking an art class
-Weather changes
-Getting a dog
-Reading a validating book
-etc.
We don’t know and can’t say how many factors, contexts, or other influential practices could impact us. When you go to pelvic floor physical therapy or occupational therapy, the home program is just one container of healing, and your life is the rest. I’ve seen expedited changes in healing journeys come from a person moving homes, starting a new trauma therapy, changes in work/life balance, relatives coming to live with a person, a new romantic relationship, etc. We have to make room for life to unfold unpredictably so we can develop the kind of relationship with progress that doesn’t see it as something we’re entitled to, but rather something that unfurls with grace and messiness if we give it enough gentle attention.
