natural detox

Sometime ago I explored how we can learn from individual bodily organs. For instance, one of the liver's main tasks is to neutralize toxicity. As I talked about this with my colleagues at the time, it became clear how the body is performing detox in many ways, all the time. The following is a partial list of strategies the uses to protects us, and examples of how we can engage them in daily life.

Blocking entry:

The brain is protected by a ‘blood-brain barrier.’ Its capillary linings differ from those elsewhere: they exclude small water-soluble molecules. Since many such substances can affect nerve transmission, they need to be screened prior to entry. Those that are necessary get picked up by special systems; the rest are kept out.

We can use this principle to screen out unhelpful comments from strangers. For the most part, people who don’t know us can’t provide valid feedback. We’re unlikely to learn anything useful from the angry driver we inadvertently cut off on the freeway. Likewise, those with clear prejudice against our ethnic group are not good sources of feedback.

Many people find it easy to deflect comments from hostile quarters, but those who are highly sensitive and caring may find it difficult. The skill’s usefulness is obvious and forms the basis of the common admonition: consider the source. Toxic and unhelpful remarks can be barred from access to our core self.

Deconstructing:

The liver screens myriad chemicals in our blood for potential hazards. When toxic ones are found, they get broken down into smaller, less dangerous pieces. Some of the resulting subunits can be used by the body; the rest are discarded.

We can employ a similar principle in daily life. If a coworker complains, “you’re always late,” we can separate the factual (I was late twice last month) from the inaccurate (the rest of the days, I was on time). We can take responsibility for our behavior without internalizing unfair criticisms. I can make amends for occasional tardiness. (I might also point out the false generalization, but it's not my responsibility to correct the errors in another's thinking; that's their business.) The useful can be addressed and the useless discarded.

Tagging:

The immune system produces antibodies that attach to bacteria, viruses, and other infectious agents. Invaders tagged with antibodies get destroyed.

We can tag comments in the same way. Profanities and insults can be labelled as such and dismissed without consideration. Remarks clearly intended to be hurtful can be similarly tagged, though it may be somewhat harder to keep them from causing pain. Even so, the very act of labelling a remark as insulting or hurtful does something to protect us from harm.

Note that sometimes input from loved ones need tagging. Exhausted spouses often feel irritable; at those times, their comments may be hurtful. It’s good policy to mentally discount such remarks with the label “my partner is tired and not thinking clearly.”

Adjusting to needs:

The intestinal lining picks up abundant vitamins less avidly than those in short supply. Adjusting uptake according to current needs is an important protection, because many essential compounds become toxic in high concentrations.

Most of us can handle constructive criticism in low doses. But too many ‘helpful’ comments discourage us. We have a right to tell those offering feedback when we’ve heard as much as we can handle. We can ask for a break to give us time to rest and reflect.

Sometimes we feel empowered, and feedback helps us do better; other times we feel vulnerable, and even gentle input stings. Sometimes we we want advice and sometimes we don’t. We can track our current capacity and needs; we can invite comments or protect ourselves accordingly.

Sequestering:

Our bones store some toxic compounds, such as lead. Keeping poisons within the body isn’t the best solution, but sometimes it’s the only one available. As bone absorbs lead, blood levels decline, and this protects the brain from harm. Unfortunately, lead may leach out later and cause damage, but at least the immediate threat is reduced.

We all carry the residue of prior toxicity that remains tucked away. When life is going smoothly, this hidden poison causes few problems. But it can surface during times of stress. As a minor example, often I’m comfortable around people, but sometimes I say the wrong thing. If I'm rested and confident, I can accept my human tendency to make mistakes. But if I'm feeling stressed, I can feel my stepmother’s voice: “You’re ugly, stupid, and weird!”

Mistreatment in childhood injects toxins that are never completely eliminated; major trauma can do the same in adulthood. Yet although these poisons of old conditioning remain with us, we can get better at managing them. We improve our ability to keep them sequestered; we learn to limit the destructiveness of their reactivation; we develop strategies for recovering more quickly after they cause problems. As years pass, our poison-control skills grow more effective.

Naturally, we’d prefer to eliminate the effects of hardship, not just manage them. Knowing that toxicity can be sequestered but not destroyed can feel discouraging when we first begin to deal with it. It’s easy to conclude, as I once did, that early trauma permanently diminishes us. Fortunately, time and growth prove otherwise.

An oyster protects itself from parasites and irritants by sequestering them in a pearl. What begins as threat ends up as beauty. Our traumas can be similarly enclosed and transformed. I believe any sincere, open-hearted desire for recovery leads toward this outcome. Whether the pearl is formed into a thing of wise beauty in our lifetime depends on factors such as social support, innate resilience, resource availability, and so on. Sadly, many people die still tormented by their pasts. But the potential for pearl formation is inherent in life.

I no longer believe myself ruined by childhood hardships; instead, I know that I was sculpted by them. Every injury prepared me for the work I do now. Loss, neglect, humiliation, and despair shaped me into a man who is simultaneously vulnerable and empowered: vulnerable because I’m sensitive and wounded; empowered because my consciousness (aka: soul, inner divinity, etc) can and does transform traumas into pearls of wisdom and compassion.