The Mindful Migraine

As I was walking the dogs at dawn yesterday, the silence was broken by the sound of two women jogging up behind me.  Even before they got close, I could hear their conversation.  The first woman was saying something to the effect of “I’ve been running for years, but she’s been at it 6 months and now she wants to tell me what shoes to wear and how to stretch and and…”  The friend either knew to let the lady blow off steam, or else she was out of breath.  Either way, she just grunted a few times in response.

Later that day I saw a post on Twitter-X from a lady who was suffering from chronic pain and about to undergo an operation.  Her post ended with something like, “please keep your unsolicited feedback to yourself – if I need advice, I’ll ask for it.”

It got me thinking.  Is my ‘good’ advice always well received?  Do I always want to receive advice from others?  How many times have I had to hide an eye-roll or bite my tongue when someone tells me to “drink more water” or how a friend’s friend got headaches until they were cured by this-that-or-the-other?  I decided there’s a slippery slope at play here (and yes, I’m absolutely aware of the irony of giving advice about receiving advice).

If you turn up at a dinner table, or a social media site, and say – “my shoulder’s sore, any clues on what I can do to make it better?” – you’re basically opening the door and laying out a welcome mat for feedback.  You asked for advice and the universe is going to provide it.  The advice you get might be super-scientific, pseudo-scientific, ancient wisdom, or something that sounds like hocus-pocus-black-magic.  It will mostly come from empathetic well-wishers, and perhaps a few lonely people who are oversharing in an attempt to find their tribe.  Very occasionally, you’ll get feedback from a scoundrel who is attempting to make you look ‘weak and stupid’ so they can feel ‘strong and wise’.  You smile, take it all in, mull it over and choose what works for you. 

Alternatively, if you never mention your shoulder injury, then you’ve closed the door, rolled up the mat, slung a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the doorhandle, and stayed inside with your secrets.  No conversation, no pain, but also no gain.

Where it gets tricky, is in the middle ground.  If you rock up to the same table-site and say, “ugh – my shoulder hurts” then you’ve opened that door again.  Sure, there’s no welcome mat, but you’ve invited others into a conversation.  You don’t really get to put a “No Junk Mail” sticker on your letterbox after the event.  There’s a limit to how much feedback you can deflect without being rude.

My (un)solicited advice on this matter is to resort to metaphorical thinking.  Imagine yourself as either a ‘spongey-camel’ or a ‘colander-duck’.  If the advice comes rolling in and you’re feeling open-minded and curious; soak it all up, take it all in, hold onto it for use now or later.  On the other hand, if you’re feeling tired and overwhelmed, and the advice is still coming at you, then let it flow over or through you, out and away.

And don’t forget you can be both types of creatures, one after the other.  When I wrote about ‘finding the I in Linda’ I mentioned both attitudes.  At first, when my neurologist was explaining to me the list of holistic remedies I should do to get well, I was overwrought with disappointment he wasn’t delivering me a magic pill.  My defences went up, and the information he was offering in good faith went literally in one ear and out the other.  Later that night, a more relaxed version of me went back over what he had said and formulated a self-help strategy that would eventually evolve into The Mindful Migraine Blog.

I’ll leave it with you – but perhaps ask yourself; what am I today as I read these words of (un)solicited advice; a spongey-camel or a colander-duck? 

(PS – I get Botox for my migraines tomorrow, and I have a university deadline coming up, so I’ll probably be off for a few days… enjoy the advice-free respite!)

Take care, Linda.