How I Visualise — Pursuing a Cure for Persistent Pain

Nearly two weeks ago I began practising a form of “neuroplastic brain training” designed for people suffering persistent pain. This was in an attempt to resolve neck, head and at times whole-body pain that I’ve been experiencing since being hit from behind by a bus while driving in 2012 (there were two subsequent cases of whiplash and a concussion after that, which have likely contributed to the pain getting worse and not better).

Today I’ll try and explain how I practice the technique every day. Hopefully you’ll see that, despite the seemingly complex theory behind it all, the visualisation is actually quite simple, and even rather beautiful if you use the suggestions in here. There is also plenty of freedom to engage your own creativity when coming up with your own visualisation — in fact, that’s encouraged!

When I first started this technique thirteen days ago I didn’t have a lot of material about it. I had read of the benefits and some pretty useful discussions about attitude in Doidge’s book [2]. But there were no actual images of what to be picturing in my mind. Instead, for visual specifics, all I really had to go on was a single paragraph:

“[Moskowitz] visualised the very brain maps he had drawn, to remind himself that the brain can really change, so he’d stay motivated. First he would vbisualise his picture of the brain in chronic pain — and observed how much the map in chronic pain had expanded neuroplastically. Then he would imagine the areas shrinking, so that they looked like the brain when there was no pain.” [4]

Not willingly idle while awaiting Moskowitz’s book from Amazon USA, I went ahead anyway and did it kiwi style, as the first ever entry in this Chronic Pain diary explains. [1]

I figured, “well, I’ve seen pictures of fMRI scans online. I’ll just Google some of those and play around with them visually.”

I knew from Norman Doidge’s book [2] that it doesn’t matter at all what you visualise. The whole point is, that by visualising anything — anything at all — we engage brain regions that are involved in both pain processing and visual imagination. By bigging up the visual imagery, we dampen down the pain, goes the logic. Eventually, through thought stimulation, we rebuild the anatomy in those regions (hello, neuroplasticity) to focus less on pain. Eventually, we can leave out the visualising altogether and go on about our lives, only occasionally making recourse to the technique whenever pain spikes recur (but that apparently becomes a rare event — bring that shit on).

So far, nearly two weeks in, I’ve found all the information I could have needed in Doidge’s book, by reading the relevant chapter a few times and relying on my own imagination when coming up with the visual images. Moskowitz’s book is definitely worth having too, and although pricey, you can’t fault the shipping which had it to my door from the US within a week!

Moskowitz, the creator of the technique, suggests to visualise brain maps shrinking, because it probably helps with motivation to relate it directly to the intended goal, but if I was feeling facetious I’d suggest it’s also because he’s spent a lot of time looking at such things in his professional life. From what I understand you could just as well be visualising Tibetan deities (an interesting thought, considering how important that practice is within the Tibetan tradition). There could well be advantages to coming up with your own imagery, as this will engage more regions of your brainware than just memorising the images that Moskowitz uses.

Having said that, I went with the “brain maps” idea, and I’ve found it solid.

Whenever a pain spike intrudes on consciousness, I gotta say my first instinct is to ignore it, and hope it’ll go away. Next tactic is, to rearrange my body — to “twitch” it into a shape where the pain is lessened. I’m a slow learner.

Eventually, I remember that I’m doing that other thing now, that visualisation stuff. I don’t have to live with this persistent pain shit any longer. For real! OK, wake up from distraction.

Feel the pain. Recognise it. And then I do my best to get motivated by remembering that the pain isn’t actually in my neck — not really. Pain is only experienced when neural signals are interpreted at “the thinking parts of [my] brain” [5]. I remember that once acute pain develops into persistent pain, the number of neurons dedicated to processing it increase five-fold [6].

Set the Intention: to return the brain to its original pain processing configuration, freeing up those neurons to do other jobs, and freeing my mind from the constant bracing against discomfort.

After all that talk, the visualisation is actually a simple three-step process:

  1. Establish mentally that the location of pain is actually inside my head, not in my body.
  2. Visualise the pain as glowing “starburst” regions — it doesn’t, in fact, matter at all where one puts them or how they’re shaped. I find that there are certain locations in my imaginary skull cavity that my mind naturally puts them, so I just go with it.
  3. Shrink them, using whatever imagery comes to mind — but I make it quite a long animation. Not just two frames, I shrink them progressively. I think about colour, and I change the colour of the regions as they shrink, cycling through all the rainbow (remember Roy G. Biv?).

Using Moskowitz’s “pain maps” suggestion a) helps remind me that the pain only exists if I allow my brain to reinforce those neural pain pathways. But b) it’s also my understanding that associating the visualisation with a particular location in my body engages the “posterior parietal lobe”, which, as well as being a pain-processing region, can be targeted neuroplastically by generating an “internal location of stimuli” [5].

I continually remind myself to visualise the shapes inside my actual skull where it is sitting now, not in some imaginary simulation of my skull out in front of or beside my actual body.

And that’s it! I repeat three times for strong pain, or until the pain diminishes, whatever is sooner. Whenever I feel pain.

It takes patience to interrupt what I’m doing and visualise, especially when I’m pressed for time. That’s probably the most challenging (and crucially important) aspect of the whole technique. R for Relentlessness.

But other than that, the visualisation itself is rather simple and even quite pretty, if you go for the colourful approach.

[1] Here in NZ, there is a bit of mythology around “making do” without necessarily having access to all the latest tools or materials. Number 8 wire and some tape will repair most things. That kind of thing.
[2] Doidge, Norman. The Brain’s Way of Healing, Penguin Books.
[3] ibid. pp19
[4] ibid. pp15
[5] ibid. pp14
[6] Moskowitz, Michael, MD. Neuroplastic Transformation Workbook pp4,
[7] ibid. pp10

Neuroplastic Brain Hacking for Chronic Pain: Day 12

I was going to write a bit much more in depth update, but then Saturday night happened.

Oh, but this arrived! I ordered it on Amazon only a few days ago, astonished to see it on my doorstep.

Much Excite.
Much Excite.

Psychological Responses to Neuroplastic Visualisations for Chronic Pain: Day 11

Intensity of pain relates directly (and negatively) to level of concentration. When the pain is just moderate (5/10, most days for me), the visualisation itself is easier to focus on and I’m less likely to get pulled into distraction. The imagery is more vivid and less broken up. I’m working on a theory that this equates to the early stages of vipassana insight.

But when the pain is more severe — 7 or 8/10, like the day before yesterday — then I’ve noticed that the visualisation suffers. Despite repeatedly trying, the visualisation regions just won’t engage for any length of time. My stream of consciousness goes something like: images of red blobs … pain … distraction into some other conundrum. Wait while spinning in distraction for a few breaths, then repeat. Additionally there is a sense of desperation that goes along with that — as though the visualisation will spare me pain if only I can get it “perfect”. This feeling doesn’t occur on days when the pain is only 4-5/10. On those days, I’m far more laissez-faire about how the visualisation unfolds — almost preferring it to be asymmetrical, random. Messy, chaotic, wild and arty. Intuitive, like life. The desperation, perfectionism, rigidity around the visualisation being “good enough” the intensity to “get it right” are strictly phenomena from the realms of 7/10 and above.

Those thoughts do crop up even on days of moderate pain, but they’re easily laughed off, soothed with feelings of balance, and intuition that (in the words of the Desiderata) “no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should”. Executive function and intuition, from the prefrontal area, the final brain region to mature in our early twenties. The adult shrug at misfortune that is frequently the only thing we have left to teach our teenage offspring.

Being swamped by that striving for perfection, that rigid feeling of the visualisation not being good enough, seems distinctly an artifact of strong pain.

“Damn it, I wasn’t seeing a whole half of that pain map, I forgot to transition through blue and violet, FML!” That kind of desperation arises because of seeking relief from the pain. This is ironic because, as Moskowitz writes “If focus is merely on immediate pain control, positive results will be fleeting and frustrating. Immediate pain control is definitely part of the program, but the real reward is to disconnect excessively wired pain networks and restore more balanced brain function in these pain processing regions of the brain.” [1]

Desperation to perfect the visualisation, out of fear of pain continuing, then turns that very fear into reality, creating what’s often termed a “self-fulfilling prophecy”. The act of predicting a result creates the result. I wonder how many irrational thought patterns, these kind of self-fulfilling prophecies, are frequently side effects of chronic pain flare ups in many people, both diagnosed and otherwise?

How does neural sensitivity (in physically compressed brain stem, hypersensitised pain circuits) relate to mental health and anxiety? And what other brain regions aside from pain processing may be involved in similar fashion with the manifestation of anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, learning disabilities… ?

Further research required on my part, as I’m sure there are much more learned minds than my own who have thought of this already and pursued it beyond a mere thought experiment.

[1] Michael Moskowitz, Neuroplastic Transformation Workbook,

The MIRROR Acronym for Neuroplastic Visualisations

Moskowitz[1] uses the MIRROR acronym to describe six qualities of a successful neuroplastic intervention.

Here is a brief run down of what these letters stand for:

M — motivation. The motivation part refers to being motivated to change the pain pattern. Active visualisation, an active role in our own treatment, in the face of inevitable setbacks.
I — intention. The intention is to not necessarily to remove pain (which is not the experience for the first week or so). The intention is “focus the mind to rewire the brain”. More on this below.
R — relentlessness. Again, more on this below. Briefly: we must be utterly ruthless with our visualisation and be more relentless than the pain.
R — reliability. Cultivating a reminder that the brain is not an enemy, and it is doing something it has evolved over millions of years to do. In most cases, the very mechanism at play in chronic pain is the same mechanism that we can use to unwind it.
O — opportunity. Somewhat pathologically optimistic this one, but it’s good to get in the habit of trying to see each pain spike not as a threatening event but an opportunity to learn new ways to untangle ourselves from these eruptions. Mentally re-framing our experience like this reduces the panic of each spike onset.
R — restoration. We are not trying to mask the pain but to restore normal brain function.

Today I’m a bit confused about two of these qualities — ‘I’ for Intention and ‘R’ for Relentlessness. So what are these concepts all about anyway?


The Intention aspect is a reminder of why we are doing the technique. Surprisingly, this “is not to get rid of pain — it is to focus the mind”.[2] By focusing on the visualisation, we are engaging a part of our brain that would otherwise be processing pain and encouraging it (Relentlessly) to process visual imagery. If we instead focus on pain, or on getting rid of it, we engage other thinking regions of our brain that are not involved in the pain cycle, and so the results will be different.


Relentlessness is all about intensity of focus. Any pain “intruding into consciousness is the signal to push back. When the pain is just beginning to act up, (we) may think perhaps it will be enough to tolerate the pain or distract (ourselves) … casual distraction must be resisted, because it allows the pain to run unopposed … Relentlessness means, every time pain is detected, push back, with full focus and the Intention to rewire the brain back to what it was before the chronic pain began. No exceptions. No negotiations with pain.”[2]


My question is, what about long-running stubborn pain, i.e., that lingers for minutes or hours even with visualisation? These two aspects seem to be in conflict then.


Say I drive to the supermarket nearby. Halfway there I feel a spreading pain and tightness from the base of my head into my shoulders and down my arms. This is a classic repeat symptom for me, so I pull over and run through the pain maps in my mind. No relief. All good, I’ll run through it again. No relief.

According to Doidge, a helpful internal dialogue at this point would go “I got a pain attack and used it as an opportunity to exercise mental effort and develop new connections in my brain, which will help me in the long run.”[2]

But that runs counter to the aspect of Relentlessness, which says to push back every time pain “intrudes on consciousness”.


Until I learn otherwise, I’ve set myself an arbitrary maximum of three times through the visualisation. That way I’m not falling short of strong focus (after all, Three Is a Magic Number). But in keeping with the Intention, I am also not trying to calculate whether the pain has relinquished its hold. If the pain melts away in less than three iterations, then I will smilingly carry on my way to the supie. Freedom is its own reward, to paraphrase Ghandi.

[2] Doidge, Norman. The Brain’s Way of Healing, Penguin Books. pp19-20.

Neuroplastic Visualisations for Chronic Pain: Day 9

Today I’m doing the best I can. That’s about all I can say of it.

What is Neuroplastic Visualisation for Chronic Pain?

Today I’m going to try and describe the theory behind this neuroplastic technique in my own words (mostly)* in the hopes that someone finds it interesting. Hopefully, nobody finds it useful! Because although that would mean my writing was not in vain, one more person with chronic pain is one too many.

The visualisation I’m doing involves imagining the boundaries of the brain regions that process pain and then making them shrink in your “mind’s eye”. But what are these regions? And how does that help?

There are (at least) sixteen brain regions involved in processing pain

According to Michael Moskowitz, quoted in Norman Doidge’s book, there are many different regions involved in processing a single incident of pain. Without having done my own research to verify these, I won’t go into specifics of which areas he mentions (they all have funny names like ‘hippocampus’). But what is worth knowing is that pain is processed in many parts of the brain.

When not processing pain, these regions do other stuff

When an acute (new and intense) pain signal is generated somewhere in our bodies, those sixteen brain regions light up on brain scans. But in fact, even before the pain signal, those regions are not dormant. They do other stuff too. They just light up even more once the pain signal arrives. Before the interruption, these sub-networks do things like (quoting from Doidge again) “sense pressure, position, vibrations. [They] detect conflict … solve problems [that are presented to them], plan movement sequences, process and retrieve emotional memories. [They] connect emotion with bodily sensations, empathise with others, retrieve autobiographical memories” [1]

And finally, the posterior parietal lobe “processes visual perception [and] internal location of stimuli”. The prefrontal area is involved in “executive function, creativity, intuition, emotional balance”. And the posterior cingulate processes “visuospatial cognition”. [1]

Those last three are where the visualisation comes in.

Chronic pain is neuroplasticity gone wild

When those regions process acute pain, only about five percent of the neurons in each area are dedicated to processing the pain signal, leaving about ninety-five percent to carry out the other important tasks they are involved with.

What Doidge reports is that Moskowitz discovered that in chronic pain, the number of neurons processing pain has grown to between fifteen and twenty-five percent. This leaves a shortfall in the number of neurons that can carry out other jobs.

Essentially, the constant ongoing signals of alarm and damage have rewired the brains of people (like me!) with chronic pain, so that the neural networks no longer function like they used to. That is neuroplasticity — but not in a good way.

Incidentally, to me this seems to explain why those of us with chronic pain can seem to lack concentration or struggle to form sentences, solve problems or recall facts. We may have trouble empathising with others or controlling emotion. Our own brain is being appropriated by excessive signals from our peripheral nerves.

Our posture comes to reflect a defensiveness that is nothing to do with how we feel about the world, but has everything to do with how much finesse and fidelity has been lost in our actual cognitive experience.

Disconnecting is harder than connecting

Making new connections between things in our minds is relatively easy — just repeat it a few times and soon you’ll have no trouble remembering the way to a friend’s house, or how to tie a shoe. But have you ever tried to unlearn something? That’s not so easy. Many of us have nights we’d rather forget 😉 But how many of us have managed to intentionally ditch those unpleasant scenes? Or once we hear a song that we detest and it’s going round in our head, how do you stop it?

That’s essentially what we’re doing with the visualisation technique. We focus our mind and use thoughts themselves (visual images) to literally force our brains into using the neurons for their original purpose — visual perception, internal location of stimuli, creativity, intuition, visuospatial cognition. Visualisation involves all these functions and more. By doing this, we are unlearning a pattern of neural behaviour that has become so ingrained that we were until now unable to break free in any meaningful way, as the neurons became more and more tightly connected. That is why we need to bring such seemingly unreasonable levels of conscious determination to the situation. Relentlessness, as Moskowitz calls it. We must be more relentless than the pain, or else we stand no chance of disconnecting a network that has become progressively more deeply wired over time.

A final point

Eventually, the goal is to use the mind to return our brains largely to the same state they were in before they began producing the experience of chronic pain. When that has been achieved, the visualisation is no longer necessary and we can go about our lives with more normal pain-processing neurology.

We will still receive normal pain signals. The five percent of neurons that are dedicated pain processors will still do their jobs. And the injuries or limitations in our bodies will remain — they will need to be treated in their own way.

An as-yet unanswered question

Although there are sixteen brain regions responsible for processing pain, Moskowitz’s technique only targets three of them. Despite this, anecdotally it seems to have had remarkable success. Why is this? Are these three more central to the experience of pain?

[1] Doidge, Norman. The Brain’s Way of Healing. Penguin Books 2015. pp13-14

  • Note that this is not a systematic scholarly review of the latest research. My list of sources is minuscule. There may well be errors or mistakes compared to the latest neuroscience. I’m just trying to present the basic gist of what I’m doing so people can do their own reading about it if they choose.

Neuroplastic Visualisation for Chronic Pain: Day 7

One week in, and today I have let go of meditation. Anyone who knows me knows what a huge statement that is. I don’t just skip that part of the day though — I still sit down as if I were to meditate. But rather than traditional shamatha-vipashyana, instead I’m reallocating the time for dedicated visualisation. The pain is bound to interrupt a meditation practice of any decent length anyway. I mustn’t let meditation distract me from the technique. I must be more relentless than the pain.

Focused visualisation for a good thirty minutes helps prime the pump. I’ve been unable to sit quietly today at times, despite feeling a pain spike, but I’ve found that I can bring to mind the visualisations even when e.g. in a conversation. It’s a good sign if I can do both at once. To me it seems as if the practice is maybe — just maybe — starting to get a subconscious foothold. Why? Well, I don’t think I can discount the simple fact I’ve been doing it for a week now. But I also attribute it to the focused practice that I began the day with.

The pain relief is also noticeable today, which is welcome, and even better is a sense (whether a sign of neuroplastic change or other side effect) that the relief is lasting longer. Today, whenever I run through the full practice, I get a good few minutes pain-free.

Having said that, I’m still very unsure if I’m doing enough to make permanent change in my neural anatomy. For this reason, I dug deep into my wellbeing fund and ordered a copy of Moskowitz’s Neuroplastic Transformation Workbook (see for some links to that book and other resources I am using).

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
Frank Herbert, Dune

Neuroplastic Visualisations for Chronic Pain: Day 6

I have found this the most challenging day so far. I haven’t had a day with this many pain spikes since I started. Because of the frequency of eruptions, the “Relentlessness” aspect of the technique interferes with everything! The only thing I don’t interrupt is yoga teaching — both arriving on time to teach, and the teaching itself. Everything else is fair game — appointments, meetings with friends, housework. When I become aware of a pain spike, I drop everything and focus on the pain maps. Even during mindfulness practice. Normally, meditation gives a cumulative benefit, but I have to let go of it in order to maintain the relentlessness of the neuroplastic technique. I miss it, but need to remember that this is a time-limited thing. The neuroplastic retraining takes 6 — 8 weeks. After that it should no longer be necessary.

Neuroplastics for Chronic Pain: Day 5

This is my fifth day of using Michael Moskowitz’s visualisations for chronic pain. The relaxation response is starting to become ingrained. In Day One I noticed that when I stopped whatever I was doing, closed my eyes and went through all the steps (establishing intention, crafting a visual map of my brain’s pain system, and then shrinking them in my mind’s eye) that I became more calm. In response to this, the pain, always in my peripheral awareness, eased to 1-2/10 and my whole body, but especially neck, shoulders and core, relaxed. Today, it seems all I need to do is start the process, even visualising with my eyes open and the relaxation starts to take place — not, perhaps, to the same degree, but subjectively still very noticeable.

Two things from this. Firstly, an observation and some speculating. On Day One, the relaxation response was so pronounced that, as I said, the pain all but disappeared and this disappearance was accompanied by feelings of freedom and blissful breathing that I’ve hardly experienced all these years since the accident (June 2012). Since then I’ve been able to access this level of pain relief only a half dozen or so times in total across the four days.

Could it be that my body-mind is accustomed to the new level of comfort, and though the relaxation response is actually occurring to the same degree, my experience of relief has faded? Or is there some objective difference between the way I was visualizing and the effect it had on Day One vs the way and effect of subsequent days? Perhaps some inhibitory response has begun taking place alongside the visualisation that wasn’t present on Day One but is now having a dampening effect?

Perhaps (and this seems most likely to me) the newness of the practice and the novelty on Day One stimulated my brain to higher levels of concentration and this, combined with early placebo effects, led to greater temporary relief than in the days since?

Regardless, the practice does not actually rely on achieving a certain level of temporary relief in each session. The aim is to reassign the duties of certain networks of the brain that also happen to process pain input (the posterior parietal lobe and the posterior cingulate as well as the prefrontal area which is involved with creativity). By relentlessly coaxing these systems to work with stimuli other than pain, we make structural changes in these areas so that the neurons are less dedicated to pain processing. So, while I suspect that having a greater sense of temporary relief equates to stronger motivation, deeper concentration and therefore more vivid visualisation and greater engagement of the above brain regions, which we could assume would lead to faster progress, in the long run, repeated effort will still create the desired result — it may just take a week or two longer. Still worth it.

Secondly: a cautionary realization that I must follow the full practice through each time, from setting intention to creating visual maps to shrinking them, and not simply stopping when I feel the realaxation. While that may be tempting, such a method skips the step of engaging the specific brain areas mentioned, so will not lead to the kind of neuroplastic change that this technique is designed to engender. Instead, I’ll become reliant on the temporary relief of relaxation through visualisation, which although real and beneficial, is in the end just like any other form of pain relief in that when stopped, the pain returns.

The ‘I’ in MIRROR stands for Intention and the intention is this: to focus the mind, in order to change the brain.

“Mental efforts help build new circuits and weaken the pain networks.” Norman Doidge, The Brain’s Way of Healing

“If focus is merely on immediate pain control, positive results will be fleeting and frustrating. Immediate pain control is definitely poart of the program, but the real reward is to disconnect excessively wired pain networks and to restore more balanced brain function these pain processing regions of the brain.” Michael Moskowitz, Neuroplastic Transformations Workbook

Visualization for Chronic Pain

I have begun reading The Brain’s Way of Healing by Dr. Norman Doidge. It details case histories in the new medical field of neuroplasticity (the ability of the brain to change itself), and was recommended by my GP at Helios Medical Centre. It appears to be well researched, and is endorsed by neurologists, psychiatrists and physicians from institutions like the University of California, Boston School of Medicine, Harvard Medical School…

Bless Doidge for putting chronic pain as the subject of chapter one.

In that chapter, Doidge reports a way of retraining the pain circuitry in our brains that was discovered by a pain specialist in the United States named Michael Moskowitz. Not wanting to necessarily wait on a copy of Moskowitz’s “Neuroplastic Transformation Workbook” to arrive from Amazon, I will be undertaking that mental rewiring programme at home here in Christchurch, kiwi-style. I will be using as motivation and further study all the blogs and websites I can find of people doing the same. I’ll also be using that single chapter by Doidge, while continuing to inhale the rest of his book. And I’ll write a brief post each day about my findings, and changes or setbacks I notice.

There are likely to be plenty of the latter over the next six to eight weeks, which is the timeframe Dr. Moskowitz suggests before results are truly signs of neuroplastic change, and not just placebo and the result of temporary distractions from the pain. Hopefully I already have some useful experience from my seven-years-since, daily meditations.

Eventually, the visualizations and constant relentless effort of retraining the circuitry should be pretty much unnecessary, and my pain circuitry will have returned more or less to what it was before the chronic feedback cycle set in.

So, the preliminaries.

May all beings be happy. May all beings be free. May all beings share my good fortune.

Days One — 3

I’m currently on Day 5 — here are my brief catchup notes for the previous four days.

Day 1: elated. Probably mostly due to the placebo effect and the simple fact that, when in pain, anything that takes your mind off it is going to have a relaxing effect. Went to the park with my partner and her toddlers. Because of the elation, I probably overdid things. Lots of monkeying around — shoulders and neck!

Day 2: confused about the technique. Setback in terms of pain — possibly caused by trying to keep up with toddlers yesterday! Lots of questions — do I have to interrupt what I’m doing at any time of the day when I feel pain, and visualize? I am in almost constant pain sometimes for hours. Should I continue visualizing all that time? Feeling as though I can’t guarantee I’ll be on time for things if I need to keep stopping all the time. Even visiting friends was tricky today. Don’t seem to be getting any relief from the technique at all today.

Day 3: Moskowitz uses the MIRROR acronym to describe how to apply the technique. The first ‘R’ is for ‘Relentless’. So, in answer to yesterday’s questions — yes. All of that. “Anytime pain intrudes on consciousness”, writes Moskowitz, “it is greeted with visualization.”

Which seems intimidating — and yes, it’s hard to be that consistently motivated. But, reading about the experiences of others helps. Learning about the science behind the technique is motivating for me. And I’m also learning to do the visuals “on the fly” — closing my eyes at red lights to imagine the brain maps. Sometimes the visualization is bringing relief from the pain. Other times, I’m working on accepting that sometimes the visualization will be feeble or feel ineffective.

Day 4: elation returned. Feel emboldened to continue with the technique. Visualizations more vivid. Relaxation more pronounced than last two days. Quite significant relief from the pain if I stay focussed, fades as soon as I stop visualizing though. And still nothing like as much relief as Day One.

There! All caught up. From now on I will post each day separately.

Further Reading

This blog post has a reasonable summary (if you squint past the typos):

Here is Dr. Moskowitz’s book on Amazon:

And The Brain’s Way of Healing on Norman Doidge’s website: