Last night, I engaged in a prolonged session of interoception, focusing specifically on the visceral sensations in my gut, voicebox, and chest. I did my best to pay concerted and sustained attention to the parts inside me that ached and felt uncomfortable. These are the tense, overworked muscles and tissues that drive anxiety and negative emotions. It led to a rather entertaining insight: I felt as though I was performing surgery from the inside.
We often view attention as a passive camera, a way to simply record what is happening. But my experience confirmed for me that attention is actually an active, remedial agent. Without lifting a finger, without invasive tools, merely paying sustained attention to the parts of me that ached and were inflamed helped bring them to peace. It was as if I had physical access with my hands to the interior of my body, massaging the soft tissues that drive negative psychological cycles.

The Scotoma of Aversion
Why do we rarely do this? Because it hurts. When we turn our attention toward our internal turmoil, the immediate sensation is aversive. Most people have very little capacity for this because the moment they notice the discomfort, they reflexively turn away. We develop a “scotoma” a blind spot—for our own internal milieu.
This avoidance is a defense mechanism. Biologically, pain signals usually tell us to withdraw. But you cannot withdraw from your own viscera. So, instead of physical withdrawal, we engage in attentional withdrawal. We ignore the signal, leaving the inflammation and tension to fester in the background, driving anxiety and stress without our conscious permission.
Attention as a Surgical Instrument
Overcoming this scotoma requires effort. Focusing on the turmoil, imagining it in space and time, and picturing it within the mind’s eye is difficult at first. However, over just a few seconds of sustained observation, the dynamic changes.
I realized that we don’t need external tests or assays to diagnose this internal state. Our somatosensory abilities already have complete access. The communication is bi-directional. When we direct high-fidelity awareness toward these areas of tension, we aren’t just listening to the complaint; we are sending a signal of safety back to the tissue. It is a non-invasive form of surgery where the “scalpel” is mirror sustained concentration.
The Clenched Fist and the Shape of Pain
During this process, I found that the turmoil had a specific texture and shape. It was an object in my perceptual field. Visualizing this shape was critical.
It is analogous to looking at your own hand. If your fist is clenched tight, you can look at it, realize it is clenched, and simply stop clutching it. You have the proprioceptive feedback and the motor control to release the tension. But inside the torso, we lack that visual feedback. The tension in the gut or chest remains “clenched” because we aren’t looking at it.
By using interoception to give that turmoil a shape, by essentially “looking” at the clenched fist of the viscera, we gain the ability to release it. We convert a subconscious physiological loop into a conscious one that we can regulate.
From Affect to Perception: The Mechanism of Granularity
A crucial detail of this experience was that the turmoil didn’t just fade away; it had a specific texture and shape before it dissolved. This distinction is biologically significant. It represents the shift from affect; a vague, sweeping feeling of “badness” or “danger,” to perception, where the sensation becomes a distinct object with dimensions and edges.
When the internal signal remains low-resolution, it acts as a general alarm, hijacking the amygdala and triggering a systemic defense response. But the moment we visualize it—giving it a geometry, a temperature, or a density in our mind’s eye, we force the brain to process it as specific sensory data rather than an existential threat. This creates a necessary distance. We are no longer in the turmoil; we are the observer looking at the turmoil. This shift recruits the insular cortex to map the signal with high fidelity, allowing the “soft tissues” that drive negative psychological cycles to finally stand down.
Starving the Reflex
This process does more than just relax us; it disrupts the reverberating neural loops that maintain chronic stress. These physiological holding patterns rely on our lack of awareness to persist. They operate in the shadows of the subconscious, reinforcing themselves through automatic reflex loops.
By holding these sensations in sustained, non-judgmental attention, we essentially “starve” the reflex. We prevent the automatic reinforcement cycle that keeps the gut churning or the chest tight. It turns out that the turmoil cannot survive direct, high-resolution scrutiny. It needs the “scotoma” to exist. When we remove the blind spot, the loop loses its momentum and dissolves.
Rehabilitation, Not Just Relief
Ultimately, this felt like more than just a momentary release; it felt like rehabilitation. Just as we might rehabilitate an injured limb through targeted physical therapy, we can rehabilitate these internal areas through targeted attentional therapy. The experience suggested that we have an innate capacity for a healing experience that is completely self-contained. We don’t need to perform assays or look for external validation. The machinery for diagnosis (interoception) and the machinery for cure (sustained concentration) are one and the same. We simply have to overcome the aversion to looking inside.
Reversing the Internal Tension
Today, after spending an hour doing this last night, I feel significantly better. The turmoil dissolved not because I fought it, and not because I ignored it, but because I examined it with the precision of a surgeon. This suggests that healing isn’t always about adding something new to the system; often, it is simply about removing the blinders and allowing our innate somatosensory loops to do what they were designed to do: communicate, regulate, and restore peace.
For more on these concepts, keep reading programpeace.com












