Why is it that
medication sometimes relieves symptoms, yet the pain keeps returning? Why do
chronic illnesses often worsen after intense stress, while deep emotional
relief can unexpectedly bring physical improvement?
People often ask me: Is
it really possible to heal physical illness by working through emotions? We
are accustomed to trusting only what can be seen, measured, or touched. That is
why the idea that physical pain may conceal unresolved emotional experiences
and emotional blocks continues to raise doubts for many people.
Yet my answer is
unequivocal: yes, it is possible.
Very often, physical
pain is not only a signal from the body but also an echo of unresolved
emotional experiences. These cannot be seen on an X-ray or detected through a
blood test, which is why the idea may seem mystical. Yet it rests on both
spiritual and psychological foundations.
Classical Judaism views
the human being as an inseparable whole, in which the soul (neshamah)
and the body (guf) are intimately connected. Our emotional state
directly affects our physical health. The Book of Proverbs (14:30) teaches, “A
tranquil heart is life to the body, but envy is rottenness to the bones.”
The Talmud (Nedarim 22a) teaches that anger brings great suffering upon a person,
while Maimonides (Rambam) wrote that persistent sadness, fear, and melancholy
weaken the body’s vital forces.
Modern science continues
to confirm this connection. Research on the placebo effect convincingly
demonstrates the mind’s influence on physiological processes. Chronic stress,
in turn, can aggravate existing illnesses and even trigger new symptoms.
Emotional blocks are
protective mechanisms of the psyche that develop in response to painful
experiences. They seem to “encapsulate” emotional pain, allowing a person to
continue functioning. Instead of processing our emotions, we often suppress
them. Wilhelm Reich, the founder of body-oriented psychotherapy, was among the
first to demonstrate that suppressed emotions can manifest as chronic muscular
tension.
Every traumatic
experience shapes our beliefs about ourselves, other people, and the world. At
the same time, the body responds biochemically: stress hormones are released,
instantly altering the body’s functioning. When emotions remain unresolved—or
when similar situations repeat themselves over many years – this response can
become ingrained and eventually manifest as chronic pain or psychosomatic
illness.
My teacher, spiritual
psychotherapist Efim Svirsky, came to a similar conclusion early in his career
as a craniosacral therapist. He observed that releasing chronic physical
tension in the body is often accompanied by the emergence of deeply buried
emotional experiences that also require healing.
During a hypnotherapy
session, while the client is in a state of deep relaxation – when the
subconscious opens access to its “library” of memories and emotions – the
person is invited to focus on an area of pain or tension and gently explore
which emotion may be connected to it. Quite often, this leads to the root of
the problem, and processing that experience is accompanied by a significant
reduction – or even the disappearance – of physical pain.
I have witnessed many
such cases in my own practice. One elderly woman, who had carried an
overwhelming sense of guilt for many years, was surprised to find that after
working through those emotions, her long-standing liver pain diminished
significantly. Another client suffered from persistent throat pain that had not
responded to conventional treatment. After addressing a deeply repressed fear
of death rooted in early childhood, her throat pain disappeared without any
additional medical intervention.
This article is by no
means suggesting that emotional work should replace medical care. On the
contrary, seeking appropriate medical attention should always remain essential.
Yet understanding the profound connection between the soul and the body allows
us to see illness from a broader perspective. Sometimes the body is not the
source of the problem, but rather the place where the soul begins to speak
after having gone unheard for far too long.
