Practicing Pain
on depression, the fight between mind and body, and learning to stand in the tension
Happy 2024, my friend.
When I sit down to write this letter to you, I hardly ever know exactly what’s going to come out. This week I thought I’d write something related to new years, new beginnings, the gift of a moment in time where we give ourselves permission to begin again (technically every single moment holds the same opportunity, but whatevs).
Actually, what I want to talk about is high-functioning depression; a diagnosis more readily called persistent depressive disorder in the clinical world of psychiatry. There is a version of this in the kundalini yoga tradition called “cold depression,” which I like just as much as high-functioning depression and will use the terms interchangeably. I suppose you can call it whatever feels most resonant for you.
High functioning depression is like a constant pain in your body that you’re prone to ignore.
It’s the seemingly gargantuan space between thoughts and doing; a space so large and ripe with overwhelm that it shifts you over to ambivalence. This overwhelm shames you into believing that you must control everything all at once, and if you can’t, there must be something terribly wrong with you. The problem, of course, is that no one can control everything.
Yet cold depression persists. Those rules don’t apply to you. You are broken.
High functioning depression creates this binary thinking where at any given moment you could either be working very hard and suffering (even if the task itself is miniscule in scale), or you could be in bed sleeping and ordering Uber eats to your heart’s desire. When we think in such black and white ways, it feels torturous when we have to choose the former when there’s something to do, that we inevitably choose the latter at nearly every opportunity we get.
I know I’m not supposed to say this because I’m a therapist - and in our western world therapists aren’t supposed to share their feelings - but cold depression is something I know intimately. In fact, it’s a very old friend of mine.
Unbeknownst to me, cold depression decided to show up at my doorstep at the beginning of December and with no explanation abruptly left on January 1st. I’ve learned over the years not to be surprised by this unexpected visitor. What’s more, I’ve learned how I can be in relationship with cold depression in a way that doesn’t feel so insufferable.
I’ve learned how to sit with the paradoxical tension between a mind telling me I need to do more and a body paralyzed by overwhelm in a way where a third option has emerged. This has made all the difference.
Stephen Cope, author of The Great Work of Your Life and scholar-in-residence at Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health, explains a concept from famous psychoanalyst Carl Jung:
“Carl Jung created a brilliant developmental strategy for standing in paradox: One must hold both sides of paradox at the same time, he teaches, without choosing one or the other. Exiling neither. Privileging neither. In this way, we can gradually learn to tolerate living in the tension of opposites.”
When the mind and body fall out of alignment, they begin to want different things. The mind wants to do, the body wants to be. A paradox emerges that creates that feeling of cold depression described above. The tension between thoughts and doing.
It’s here where we usually privilege the needs and wants of our mind over our bodies. It’s here where we abandon our own bodies, exiling them for not keeping up with the needs of the mind. Jung urges us not to do that. We must not choose one over the other.
This feels scary and untenable, even agonizing, to a mind prone to controlling the proverbial ship that is you. The mind and body slowly become enemies on either end of the paradox.
Yet we must learn how to stand in the tension of the paradox. Stephen Cope continues:
“If we held the tension between the two opposing forces, there would emerge a third way, which would unite and transcend the two. Indeed, he [Jung] believed that this transcendent force was crucial to individuation [a higher connection to Self]. Whatever the third way is, it’s usually a surprise, because it has not penetrated our defenses until now. A hasty move to resolve tension can abort growth of the new. If we can hold conflict in the psychic utero long enough we can give birth to something new in ourselves.”
What Jung doesn’t say but what I’m telling you now is that the third way resides in our ability to stay in the body. He would argue that it resides in the unconscious mind, but actually I think it’s the same thing. Because our unconscious patterning and holding - all the memories and experiences that make us who we are - live rent free in our bodies. Our western conditioning of privileging “mind over matter” must be unlearned so we can “give birth to” a sense of embodiment where there is space for the third way to arise.
It’s when we can do this that the mind and body can become not just acquaintances that tolerate each other, but close allies.
We learn how to hold the tension of the paradox through practicing holding the tension. Practices that help us get back into the sensation of the body. Practices that help us get curious about the negative embodied stories versus what’s actually happening in the here and now.
This is the gift of the modalities I love the most. 1:1 therapy of course is an intentional space where one can practice holding the tension of life’s paradoxes with the support of a professional when it all feels like too much. Breathwork and kundalini yoga are my favorite daily practices for holding the tension (shocker, I know). What happens in these modalities is this beautiful paradox of the mind wanting desperately to stop because it’s uncomfortable and weird, while the body simultaneously wants to continue because it’s invigorating and profound.
If we can learn to gently and intentionally sit in this tension of the paradox without overwhelming the system, often what happens during and after these modalities is something that transcends the objective weirdness and the physical invigoration of the practice. All of a sudden, the mind and body are in alignment in a way that didn’t feel possible before.
I can only speak for myself here, but the transcendence I feel when my mind and body align after standing in that tension helps me to remember that my experiences in this world are, in fact, universal. I’m not alone. I am normal, whatever that means. There is nothing about me that needs fixing. It’s permission and acceptance wrapped up in a loving hug. It’s the feeling of being both insignificant and infinite at the same time.
It’s here where my third way emerges.
I read this poem by Rumi to the participants of the 15 day challenge the other day:
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
-Rumi
Through practice, I’m now able to welcome even the most unwanted visitors into my guest house when they come knocking. It’s not always perfect - there’s sometimes a battle in the doorway - but eventually I remember that these are the moments that my therapy and daily practices have trained me for.
So when cold depression returned again for a little visit last month, I maybe didn’t “meet it at the door laughing,” but I certainly didn’t shoo it away either. I returned to my practices, and I held strong in the tension as I watched all my best intended plans for the month get thrown out the window. December might not have been the month I had hoped for, but it was the month I needed. Not only that, but I was able to wholeheartedly enjoy moments of pure joy when they did arise; something an older version of myself wouldn’t have been able to do. In this way, I’m grateful.
My hope for you and for me is that we continue to practice. Practice holding the tension. Practice being in the body. Practice not always favoring the mind.
My hope is that we continue to stand in the paradox so that a new way emerges that transcends the more and more complex and binary times we find ourselves in (I speak about this in an older letter, too, called To be Okay).
My hope is that we return back to our whole Selves, again and again and again.
I’ll meet you in the practice.
Big hugs,
The part in practice
Upcoming Offerings:
ONLINE: Reclaim, a 12-week journey through owning your boundaries with energy breathwork, begins January 11th (limited spots left)
This program is specifically designed to support you in creating healthy physical, emotional, and energetic boundaries so that you can reclaim your sense of Self. Our lives are constantly pulling us in different directions and there is so much vying for our attention. Reclaim will support you in accessing healthy boundaries so you can show up more fully for the people and things you care about in your life. $444 or 3-monthly installments of $150. Learn more here.
IN PERSON event in Austin, TX: Full Moon Women’s Circle, January 26 at 6:30pm
I’m starting a monthly women’s circle for female-identifying folks who live in and around the Austin, Texas area (or are visiting for the weekend!). We’ll meet and share/hold space with ceremonial cacao, a breathwork journey, and space for reflection, sharing, and coming together in mindful community. The exchange for this is $35. I couldn’t be more excited :)
Other substacks I loved this week:
- is also apparently loving Jung lately in her 2024 declaration of exploring more of the shadow.
“It used to be considered just normal behavior to not work on the weekend. Now, not checking work-related emails or responding to work calls (also known as not working on your day off) is in the same category as staying in your pajamas all day.” Loving this article on actual rest by
2023 was one of the toughest year for me, one thing I learned is never judge someone. Especially if you don't know them, because you don't know what they're going through. And for all you know, your words could be the last thing they hear before they decide they have had enough.
Beautiful piece Eliza, so good to read.
Wow, never heard words describe what high functioning depression actually feels and looks like. I feel very seen and connected to this post very much. Definitely going to try to practice holding space for the different emotions more intentionally!! Thank you as always for writing very impactful and relatable pieces.