OMG, it’s like a solid hour of being in a tunnel with a million little jack hammers pounding your body. The only thing missing was the “hi ho, hi ho.”

I have a problem with tiny places, experiencing new things in my body, strange noises, and being confined in any way. Needless to say, going into this experience, I was a mess.

The techs were wonderful. Walking me through the whole process. Showing me how I could disengage the latch on the helmet-like device that encircled my head. Showing me how to squeeze the call button to signal them if I needed a quick escape. Placing a line in my arm for the contrast material and not batting an eye when I fell apart.

Several years ago, I had also attempted an MRI. Total fail. They gave me Valium (this was before I knew about my paradoxical reactions to anxiety meds), which only served to make the anxiety worse. The panic set in and the game was over before it even started.

Yesterday, dread with a capital “D” as I faced the same situation, sans Valium, but ready to try again.

But this time, I had a secret weapon. Something I’ve been working on for several years. It has worked in the dental chair (sans anesthetic) so I was hoping it would get me through this latest challenge.

Let me explain.

Your mind is like a wheel, with a hub, spokes and a rim. If you can learn to place yourself firmly within the hub, ground yourself in awareness of something stable within you, you can observe from that hub, the workings of your own mind.

You can mentally follow the spokes out to the rim where all the activity is happening. The emotions, the thoughts, even the body sensations become experiences on the rim that you can observe from this calm and objective place.

So while the seven dwarfs were pounding away at my body, I was (mostly) calm within the hub of my own mind. I was in my “safe place” where I could observe, but not blend with the experience.

If you haven’t already made the leap into how this relates to trauma, here it is:

A mind that has been thrown into chaos, experiencing left over thoughts, emotions, and body sensations, those horrible and dreaded flashbacks, doesn’t know how to orient itself to something stable until you teach it how.

With practice, you can learn to observe the workings of your own mind and integrate those left over experiences. Because you have taken a step back and instead of merely “blending” with the past trauma (ergo not resolving anything) you have become your own “internal therapist” and can now work through the chaos.

Yesterday, as the tiny miners did their work, I had to call on every ninja skill I had to stay within that hub. To be aware of the pull of the anxiety, the urge to open my eyes, the voices telling me I couldn’t stand another 5 minutes of the pounding (let alone an hour!) but to not engage with any of that.

When it got rough, I simply dug deeper into my experience of practiced calm. At one point, if the din hadn’t been so confounded loud, I could almost have fallen asleep.

That’s how well I’ve trained my mind and body to relax and remain calm in the face of distress.

Over time, I’ve brought that peace and calm repeatedly into the chaos of my subconscious mind, integrating and resolving the traumatic experiences of my past. With the help of this awareness and my own internal therapist, I’ve healed my life.

If you’re interested in developing these ninja skills, I can teach you.

Visit www.annemarck.com/scripts-playlists to learn more about developing this skill.

Until next time,

Anne