“Know yourself, control yourself, and give of yourself.”
— Jeff Petersen, The Shadow of Pain
Pain has a way of introducing us to ourselves. Whether the pain is physical, emotional, relational, or spiritual, it often exposes things we did not know were there. It reveals our fears, our habits, our strengths, our weaknesses, and sometimes our deepest beliefs about ourselves.
I the first article in the shadow of pain series, I discussed how pain can be a great teacher.
For more than forty years as a physical therapist, I have watched people respond to pain in remarkably similar ways. Some deny it. Some fear it. Some fight it. Some surrender to it. Yet those who move forward most successfully usually begin with a simple but difficult task: they learn to know themselves. The first step out of the shadow of pain is not fixing yourself. It is understanding yourself.
Pain Reveals
One of the central ideas in The Shadow of Pain is this:
“The particulars of your pain are unique to you, but the process of walking through the shadow of pain is not.”
Every person experiences pain differently, yet pain tends to ask similar questions:
- What am I feeling?
- What am I afraid of?
- What am I avoiding?
- What habits are helping me?
- What habits are hurting me?
- What is this experience teaching me?
Many of us spend years becoming experts on other people while remaining strangers to ourselves. Physical pain often reveals this quickly. A patient may insist they are “fine” while their shoulders are elevated, their breathing is shallow, and their body is guarded. Likewise, emotional pain frequently shows up physically before we recognize it emotionally.
I have learned that when I am defensive, I feel it in my throat and chest. When I am fatigued, I feel it in my back and hips. Increasing our sensitivity to these signals allows us to respond before pain becomes overwhelming.
The Johari Window
One useful model for self-awareness is the Johari Window. It divides our lives into four areas:
- Things known to ourselves and others.
- Things known to others but not to ourselves.
- Things known to us but hidden from others.
- Things unknown to everyone.
Pain often enlarges the second and fourth areas.
Sometimes the people closest to us can see our fear, anger, exhaustion, or bitterness long before we can. At other times, difficult experiences reveal parts of ourselves that neither we nor others previously recognized. This requires humility. Trusted friends, spouses, counselors, pastors, and mentors can often help us see blind spots. Their observations may not always be comfortable, but they can become valuable gifts. As I often tell patients, “You cannot change what you cannot see.”
Confession and Awareness
For me, self-awareness often begins with confession. First, confession to myself. What am I really feeling? What am I afraid of? What am I avoiding? What am I pretending not to know? Sometimes it continues with confession to another person. By acknowledging our experience honestly, we begin to remove the power of denial. This applies equally to physical pain and emotional pain.
A person recovering from a shoulder injury must admit that certain activities currently cause pain. Someone experiencing grief must admit that they are hurting. Someone carrying resentment must acknowledge it. Awareness is not weakness. It is the beginning of wisdom.
The Body Tells the Truth
Our bodies frequently reveal what our minds attempt to conceal. Stress creates tension. Fear creates guarding. Fatigue alters movement. Chronic anxiety changes breathing patterns. Emotional wounds often produce physical consequences. When suffering a physical injury, the nervous system produces a protective response. Muscles tighten. Movement patterns change. Compensation develops. The same thing often happens emotionally. People become guarded. Relationships become restricted. Fear produces avoidance. Defensive habits begin to spread into other areas of life.
As I wrote in the book: “Respond, don’t react.” The ability to pause, observe, and understand ourselves creates the space necessary for better decisions.
Scars Are Not Failure
Another lesson pain teaches is that scars do not mean we have failed. Scars tell the story of healing. Some losses remain painful. The death of my twin brother James changed my life. Other losses are more difficult to define. Certain relationships change. Some dreams end differently than we expected. Pain leaves marks. But scars can also become evidence that we survived. Knowing ourselves means accepting both our strengths and our wounds.
The Courage to Look Honestly
The hardest person to see clearly is often ourselves. We all possess blind spots, defenses, and habits that protect us from discomfort. Yet growth almost always begins with honest observation. What behaviors repeatedly hurt me? What fears drive my decisions? What beliefs limit me? What relationships bring life? What practices restore me? Asking these questions requires courage.
The goal is not self-criticism. The goal is self-understanding.
Because once we know ourselves, we can begin to control ourselves. And once we learn to control ourselves, we become increasingly capable of giving ourselves to others. Pain may introduce us to ourselves, but it does not have to define us. It can become, as I often say, a poor warning system but an excellent teacher. And perhaps the first lesson it teaches is simply this: Know yourself.
