I want to tell you something I used to do constantly during the many years I was in chronic pain and not managing it well.
I fixated on my pain all day long. My thoughts sounded like this: I can’t do this anymore. How bad is this going to get? What should I try next? I think I’ve tried everything. Why is this still happening? Is this going to go on forever? What if I’m doing something to make it worse?
Can you identify with that?
I wasn’t trying to be dramatic. I was scared. And when you’re scared and in pain, constantly monitoring it makes sense, or at least I thought it did.
But here’s what I didn’t understand at the time. The more I focused on my pain, the louder it got. The longer it lasted. The more intense it felt. It became overwhelming, and it felt unending.
Attention Works Like a Flashlight
What I eventually learned became one of the very first tools that helped me on my recovery journey, and it’s simple: attention works like a flashlight, and where you point it matters.
Imagine you’re standing in a dark room holding a flashlight. Wherever you point it, that’s what becomes brighter. When I was living in hyperfocus mode, my flashlight was glued to my pain. All I could see was pain.
And when your brain sees something over and over, it starts to believe this must be very important, this must be dangerous, and I should monitor it closely. So it turns the volume of pain up. Not because you’re weak. Not because you’re imagining it. Your pain is real. It happens because your brain thinks it’s being helpful.
When I lived in that cycle of “I can’t do this, what should I try next, am I making things worse,” I was unintentionally sending my nervous system one message: you’re in danger.
And when the nervous system believes it’s in danger, things change in your body. Muscles tighten. Breathing changes. Sleep suffers. Thoughts race. And pain intensifies.
The problem was, I didn’t know I could actually move my flashlight.
The First Time I Felt Real Hope
Learning about the flashlight principle was one of the first moments I felt genuine hope. Not false hope. Not “I think I’m cured, this is the silver bullet.” It was simply, “You know what? I have more influence here than I thought.”
The purpose was never to eliminate the pain. I didn’t have to pretend it wasn’t there. I just had to practice widening my attention.
The first time I tried it, I remember thinking, “This feels too simple. This can’t be helpful.” But simple doesn’t mean ineffective. When I intentionally shifted my focus, even for a minute, something started to change. The pain didn’t disappear, but it stopped being the only thing that mattered.
I was amazed that by not fixating on the pain with all that fear and concern, I actually felt better.
This Is Not Ignoring Your Pain
This is important. Moving your attention doesn’t mean ignoring your pain or suppressing it. It means noticing that yes, pain is here, but so are other things. You’re changing your perspective, not denying reality.
You might shift your focus to noticing your breathing. To calling a friend or having a conversation with someone you enjoy. To music, or a favorite show, or a hobby you love.
And if you can’t do those things right now, even thinking about or planning something enjoyable for the future can help.
Here’s another good one. There are other people out there who are hurting. Is there someone who could use some encouragement? Could you send them a text or give them a call? That helps remind you that you’re not alone.
There are many ways to point the flashlight somewhere else. The purpose isn’t to escape. It’s to rebalance.
Because when pain is the only thing lit up, it feels enormous. When your attention widens, it can feel more manageable. Not gone, just not center stage.
I Still Use This Every Day
I still use the flashlight every single day. Not because I’m avoiding pain, but because my attention naturally drifts back to it. When pain is present, that’s normal, so be patient with yourself. I just gently move the flashlight. Not with frustration. Intentionally. I look to see where else I could put my attention.
When I work with clients, this is often one of the first tools we practice, because it’s easy. It doesn’t require equipment. It doesn’t even require a perfect mindset. It just requires awareness that we have the ability to refocus, and that awareness can be trained.
Is This Just Distraction?
Sometimes people worry that this is just distraction. Here’s how I see it.
Avoidance says, “Oh no, this is dangerous. Run. Pay attention. Do something. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Redirection says, “I’m choosing where my focus goes. The pain is there, but I’m choosing where to put my attention.”
There’s a real difference. You’re not pretending the pain isn’t real. You’re choosing not to let it be in charge. That’s not denial. That’s learning a new skill.
How to Practice It
The next time you notice yourself spiraling into “I can’t do this,” or “how much worse is this going to get,” or “I feel like I’ve tried everything,” pause. Take a breath.
Acknowledge that there is pain. Then gently ask, “What else is here?” Not to minimize the pain. Just to widen the focus.
Look around the room. What colors do you see? What sounds do you hear? What’s the temperature? What do you feel? Can you feel the surface of your chair, whether it’s hard or soft?
Even doing that for a little while counts, because over time that repetition teaches your brain something important: pain is here, but it’s not an emergency. And that can change things.
Your Attention Is Powerful
I understand what it’s like to be in pain all the time, every day, and I hope none of this feels invalidating. I just want you to know that your attention is powerful.
When pain becomes the only thing you’re focused on, it feels overwhelming. But when you teach your attention to widen, pain can move out of the center of your focus.
This was one of the first tools I tried, and it’s still one I use every day. I don’t do it perfectly, but I do it intentionally.
You don’t have to eliminate pain in order to influence it. Sometimes you just have to move the flashlight.
Be gentle with yourself. You’re learning a skill, and that matters.
