The absolute presence of pain

Want to know one of the big epiphanies I had as a participant on a Zen Judaism retreat this past weekend in Israel?

When I have a migraine, I am completely present.

My mind is nowhere but on the experience of the migraine.

The flashing zigzaggy lights I see before the crushing headache.

The loss of clear vision.

The understanding of exactly what is going on in this very moment.

And the understanding of what needs to be done…right now.

I am not thinking about the laundry. Or about my kid’s homework. I am not thinking about my finances or that obnoxious girl at work.

I am not obsessing over that stupid comment I made to my boss or the thing my husband said to me at dinner or the fight I had with my mother.

I am just with the migraine.

Do you ever notice how present you are to pain?

And then do you notice how not present you are to pleasure?

I do. Now.

I’ve been struggling again with migraines since I moved to Israel 11 months ago. Before I moved here, I had managed to be migraine-free for about three years (which I attributed to being completely dairy free).

Why are my migraines are back? Is it the dairy? I’m only eating a little. Is it the full-time office job? The people are nice there. Is it the sleepless nights (thanks to three little kids)? Or is it the fact that I just made a major international move to a conflict-torn country whose national language is not English?

I don’t have the answer. Not for lack of trying.

I thought I knew my migraine triggers: lack of sleep, stress, particular foods, bright flashing lights.

But I wonder now if my migraines aren’t also my body’s way of triggering something in me.

The need to be more present. The need to stop. The need to slow down. The need to be with me.

If I could somehow manage to be more present, would the other migraine triggers simply just fall away and disappear?

Would my body finally say “Thank you for noticing” and give up the migraines?