Re-calibrating my Gut

I’m a feeler, but I’m also a thinker. There have been times in my life where I experience life more in one mode than the other, but I also don’t see myself all-too detached from either.

When I’ve taken the Myers-Briggs, I have always landed on the “F” side of the third dichotomy. This means I’m more prone to “feeling” my way through decision-making. My relationships and values will factor into how I choose to interact with the world and dominate my decision-making. (In contrast, a more “T”/thinking person will gather facts, logic, and strive to objectively analyze a situation to help them make a decision.)

I pay attention to the world around me through my senses, but I also lean on my intuition. When I took the Myers-Briggs earlier in life, I always scored on the “N” scale – or intuitive. This implies leaning on intuition and imagination to understand situations. Though I haven’t taken the test in at least 8 or 9 years, I find myself curious if I would still score there. It’s not that I see myself as wholly leaning on my five senses (as an “S”/sensing scorer would) in the present moment to understand life, but…

…. I also feel really out of touch with my “gut.”

Call it what you will: My highest wisdom. My intuition. My compass. My knowing. My still, small voice. Gladys.

I tend to go with “gut”, so despite potential confusion related to digestion/immune systems (also a popular topic!), I will in this post.

I think our culture puts a lot of emphasis on knowing your gut and checking in with yourself and letting it be your guide. I know I’ve always admired people who just know their needs, their concerns, their sense, their reservations about any given situation.

I want to be them when I grow up, pretty much.

Make of it what you will, but I’m…. gah… I’m a little embarrassed about my above admission.

I like to see myself as someone with a sense of just …. just knowing. It’s a secure, comfortable idea to just be able to read your own gauge and know what you need to move toward (or away from).

(…Especially as a therapist, who wants to bring that inspiring inner wisdom and confidence into sessions and moments of struggle.)

But truth be told, I’ve always enjoyed a good “pros and cons” list. I’ve generally appreciated input from others. I’ve often checked in with myself to see if I’m leaning on the crutch of an idea or a stereotype or looking for an easy way out.

Because sometimes, honestly, I hear people reference their “gut” and I think their gut sounds like it lives in an anxious, traumatized, potentially racist (yes, I went there) place.

If we’ve been through a lot, we can definitely find ourselves in need of re-calibration… something like a gut alignment job.

And man oh man, do I ever believe that we (especially we white folks) need to examine our go-to impressions and ideas and discomforts. The work – the unlearning – never ends, people.

But all that said, even checking in with myself, sometimes I want to do the “right thing” and uphold my values of openness and giving … and I make a decision that bites me in the butt.

I end up getting used, taken advantage of, let down, frustrated.

And that’s not the end of the world, but it can take a toll and really make you question what you know.

Being uncomfortable can be such a confusing and disorienting thing.

An important life lesson for me, and for many, is likely that you’re stronger than you have ever realized; that the discomfort you’ve endured and held fast through ultimately shows you how truly resilient you are.

And there are times in life when that discomfort is a signal, flashing in the dark: Saying that things are broken, or well on their way to being so. Or that things need to change. Or that it’s time for a departure or to try something new.

Therapists are big on discomfort helping to motivate their clients into new directions, aren’t they? 😉

So which is it? Is discomfort what makes us, forms us? Or is it what propels us? To quote the timeless bop, should we stay or should we go now?

Is it both?

This is where the gut (and all it’s innate wisdom and guidance and amazingness) should likely come in, I guess, and helps guide us to what we ultimately need to understand.

Does that sound ungracious?

Perhaps it is.

Perhaps it points to this disconnect I’m feeling to my own sense of intuition.

For better or worse, and much like a Myers-Briggs “S”, these days I am more grounded in the present, in my five senses. Parenting four kids through a pandemic finds comfort in routines, answers, rituals, knowing.

Maybe intuition – my gut – is a little atrophied.

(It wouldn’t be the only part of me that’s, ahem, out of shape. But I digress. Self-compassion, don’t fail me now!)

Reflecting on it now, some of the times I’m most tuned in to my gut and going with it, have been when I’m doing that therapy gig. I’ve been away from it for almost 4 years, which really does stun me some days. But in those conversations, in connecting, in deep work – I often have found I move in a fluid, inspired, confident way. In a way that honors that intuitive on-point gut.

(Don’t get me wrong, there are stilted, challenging sessions too. But again, with the digressing.)

I’ll tell you a funny little story about my day… and tuning in…

I woke up after a crap night of “sleep” (up many times with an inconsolable toddler who would only be consoled by much nursing his toddler-sized bunk). Not only was I exhausted, but sore. Sure there were some significant menstrual cramps kicking as well, but … ugh.

As the day went on, my back was aching, hurting. I was feeling that “Is this what happens to you when you’re 40?” thing that my friend-of-a-certain-age keep lamenting about on facebook.

Back pain is a bitch, people. I find it often leads me to a quasi-nauseated place. I truly don’t know how people in chronic back pain deal with it, God bless ’em.

It hurt while I drove. It hurt while I showered. It hurt while I played with the kids, and read. I found myself dreaming of a massage, an adjustment, or just even a quality back cracking.

It got worse this evening while I laid down, putting the aforementioned 2yo to sleep, in his toddler bed. Tight, distinct, almost squeezing… leading any bit of my anxious self into trying to remember the unique signs of heart attacks in women. Or cancer. Or at a minimum, mastitis?

It had hurt all day and now, it was definitely feeling more intense.

Was this discomfort a signal of my impending doom, my demise? Or was it just a bad day (after a bad night of sleep) for my 42yo back, ultimately reminding me of my resilience?

Or was it… that distinct squeezing… right around my bra line?

The little guy nodded off. I changed into pajama pants, took off my bra, and ….

Ahh. Blessed relief.

Significant relief.

I mean, there’s still back pain. But it’s not “I might be dying and I need to get my affairs in order and should I go to the ER now and risk going into over-the-top medical debt to be told I have gas pain” uncomfortable or worrisome anymore.

It may not have been my gut that helped me out of the situation, but there is something to be said for taking stock of the here and now, and trouble shooting.

Those are valuable skills for anyone to possess, let alone someone who aspires to be a wise, confident counselor (…who also needs the gentle reminder that it’s okay not to know, and to be uncomfortable).

So sure, in my case, there’s re-calibrating to do, gut-wise. But there’s also recognizing I’m not broken (outside my back) and acceptance that there’s goodness to be found whether I’m thinking or feeling, sensing or intuiting.

Sometimes you just need to assess the present, tune into the moment… and take off your damn bra.