It Is Joy That Heals
An Interview with Tanvi Kulkarni
I remember stumbling across Tanvi's Instagram page sometime at the start of 2022, and I, also remember being humbled to the core of my heart. Her candid posting about her experience with Irritable Bowel Syndrome and Sepsis and how she wakes up to love the world every morning, in spite of how much the pain wrecks, brought a rush of courage to my insides. I knew I would be talking to her some day. And I did.
Tanvi Kulkarni, currently a twenty-three year-old SEL (Social & Emotional Learning) facilitator from Mumbai, meets me on a video call with a plate of idli-sambhar and an ebullient smile. We're not exactly here to talk about IBS, but rather, a baffling love for the world despite IBS's crushing pain. I ask her how she sees herself. As she talks, I conjure up an image of a little girl running through a garden. She’s always been a fan of the outdoors, and a lover of being under the sky. She also tells me about a life full of art- be it music, painting, cinema or literature, month-long pain flare-ups, an innate love for the world and about exploring her own sensitivity. Which is what brought her to help young children understand their emotions and reflect on them, with the help of art and expression.
I tell her that I’m not going to ask or expect her to elaborate on the technicalities of the ache, but rather her psychological and emotional experience through it. But in spite of that, we need a ground to begin walking on. I need her to tell me what her physical illness is and how it affects her. She nods.
She tells me her story of the first ache, the first flare up. She’s had a long history of night stomach aches, so when she got one in the middle of May 2020, she didn’t question it at all. For a month. My eyes widen. She pretty much convinced herself that she was making it up in her head until it got out of hand. I am so sure this is my story but I keep my relating laugh to myself.
The symptoms were treated but the cause was not. How she came to a self-diagnosis and proceeded to verify and turn it into a clinical one. This is a story I've read and heard (and lived) at least a few times. I nod as the common ground between us widens and widens.
We talk about how we approach our pain, and talk to it. The talking is crucial. “I just kinda gaslight myself and push myself into the doing. Most of the time it works.” she lets out a small laugh and somewhere I can see sadness lurking behind it.
“But I disagree with your approach there!” I find myself bursting out— “what we can do better (and to serve us better) is emotional regulation. To notice the pain, and our distress because of it, and slowly soothe ourselves with self-talk and get to the work or task. Similar process, entirely different results. Because one suppresses your pain but the other acknowledges it. See!”— My psychology student self rushes in to explain this like a technical concept. She nods, and I cannot help but smile back because she’s smiling so vividly. I’m going to remember this for a long long time.
I ask her about camouflaging physical pain and showing up amongst people in spite of being clearly unable to at times. “We don’t want to scare them away now, do we?” she laughs. “As people with chronic conditions, we often have to wear a mask that says ‘I’m okay’ even if that’s a lie. I try to show up with a smile whenever possible, and it helps knowing that even if I’m having a flare-up or I am in pain, my friends are still going to want to hangout with me. And I cannot stop them. And that’s the best part.”
Does it help not being able to?
“Sometimes.”
I’m aching to ask a serious question, and I look at my list to see what to ask first. My eyes hover across and rest on this one.
“Very often, in chronic illness and pain, the very emotional validation of our experience that can get us moving is absent, even from our loved ones” she’s nodding, “how do you suggest one keep going in such a situation?” I ask.
“The ultimate thing is self-validation. You have to listen to your own emotion and validate its existence and presence, and be gentle with yourself as you do it. The ultimate validation comes from within, and once you have it, you can stop seeking it on the outside.” This is wisdom.
I follow up— “What keeps you going?”
“It is the realization that everything keeps moving even if you stop. Ultimately, the world will go on and so will life. Also, you sometimes create things that keep you going,” she says, “it could be finding your motivations and affirming them to yourself, finding art that aligns with your dreams— anything. Keeping going is a voluntary act, and we do it for ourselves, and we can do it without much external support by finding things that drive us on.
“I have been blessed to always have been naturally hopeful as a person, and that always helped. There is practice needed in reminding yourself you are worthy, and that your emotions have value that needs to be heard. Since childhood, my emotions were often larger than me, and I have slowly learnt how to make space for other things in my life by understanding that these emotions must be acknowledged and allowed. Beautiful experience, in spite of how difficult it is.”
“You mention hope,” I begin to ask, “how do you find positive things in the midst of pain or under the pall of intrusive thoughts that it brings along?”
“I’ve always prioritized joy. It just comes to me! Be it in any form, it has always been a priority. And I’ve also learned that joy is not alien to pain, it can coexist with it”, she says “I realize that my pain has power over me sometimes, but so does my joy. I know that taking a run could probably trigger my pain, but I’m still going to do it for the joy it brings me. The key is to find as many ways as possible to bring joy to yourself and immerse yourself in it.
“When you condition yourself to look for joy even in pain, your body, with consistent practice, will begin to find it itself. As I said, it comes with practice and looking for joy in little things is a beautiful skill, and it comes with the practice of little steps. You could maybe start with one joyful thing in your day, and it expands from there.”
We begin to talk about how joy so surreally mitigates pain, and how wondrous that phenomenon even is, and I say “Joy seemingly heals. Have you ever experienced something like that in your life?”
She says “I live this life for art! I’ve so often depended on art for a sense of joy, be it gaining company from a thick book, being moved by music or a podcast, or simply in being audience to art— it has sometimes been as if the art almost made the pain go away. Being on the giving and receiving end both, for all forms of art, and handing over control to the process by not expecting it to be a certain way and letting it take me where it wants to, has been the key. It is also mostly about making use of the things around you which bring you joy, and allowing yourself their experience.”
“What has your work with children taught you about your own pain and its awareness and about coping with it?” I ask, curious about that aspect of her life.
“Kids are relentless! They find joy in the most tragic of situations and things. I’ve had students who’ve had an ill mother and an alcoholic father and have come to class and read poems that made us all laugh holding our bellies. Being around kids made me unlearn “good” art and that has been humbling. We often don’t believe how art saves our life, or at least we underestimate it. Pain’s power is nearly never as big is that of joy, or that of art. I have also found how deeply scarce the access to such a commonplace thing as art is for most people, especially children and it has become my mission of sorts to change that.”
I ask her “what does courage mean to you?” and she takes a second to answer. I am waiting for my next amazing quote-able sentence, and the response is so simple it surprises me.
“Doing your thing in spite the fear. Doing what you love, irrespective of how it’ll end up. That’s courage to me,” she says “It surprises me how much you can do for yourself once you start to. Everyone has something that keeps them going.
“Resilience builds up just by keeping going, and one must remember that you’re showing up for yourself, not anybody else.”
“Wow! Thank you so much! This was so wholesome and such a simply accurate answer.”
I can barely shut up about how good this conversation has been for me, and she’s laughing. We are both thankful for this experience, and chit chat for a few minutes.
In the end, she reassures me that I’ll do a good job of writing out this interview, as I mention how nervous I am, and my heart is fuller than ever before. As they say, one good conversation and you can believe in the whole world. I hope I see Tanvi again some day. Till then, these memories. Thank you for reading!
Post-interview Suggestions:
I hope you liked reading through this. For me, this conversation will always be a beacon of light for me in the sense that there can always be joy with pain, and there can always be choice in the seemingly darkest of hopelessness. This is why this is my first article/interview/piece. There is courage in growing and living with chronic illness and pain, and we’re all witness to it everyday, within ourselves. Consider this my gentle nudge to you to allow more joy to enter your daily experience of life by the exercise of this choice and allow it to add to your strength as an individual. Also, this is strictly limited to and by where you are in your journey with your illness. The idea is, do what you can. If a walk is not possible, stroll around your room. If 10 minutes is too long, start with 3. You get the point. Start with what you can, and let your body take it up from there.
See this as your green slip to make little little choices that redefine your experience of your illness and create wellbeing for you in various psycho-emotional ways or even interpersonal ways. Some suggestions are:
Make a pain relief playlist or mood board for relief- Around last year, when I used to experience my worst pain flare-ups of the pain disorder, I collated a list of songs that soothed me as I laid down. You get the idea?
Make a pain awareness/mindfulness playlist- Similar, but different. This playlist makes you notice your sensations more actively and it can comprise of instrumentals, meditative music, anything you like— as long as you are being mindfully aware of your pain.
Go on a slow, intentional walk/run/dance- This is subject to how much pain you are in, but can be a game-changer. Move your body, mindfully (it can be very difficult to notice the pain without judging it, but start small), in any way you can, be it walking, yoga or dancing, and let the release of energy bring you joy and peace as you exhale. Notice what your senses are taking in, and let the thoughts come and go. If you get distracted, gently bring your attention back to your sensations, your senses and your breath.
Insert things you love to do in tiny packets in your day, in time slots that are manageable and accessible to you. Do what you love in 5-7-10 minute slots (or even lesser!)- let go of your attachment to the degree/intensity of pleasure that you derive from it and just start small. Allow yourself to mindfully experience what you’re doing.
Allow yourself pleasure in daily activities and daily conversations. Dance as you wash the dishes, sing as you fold the laundry— you get the hint.
Meditate on the things that give you joy and visualize them often. Make a list of, and record yourself talking about your dreams or hobbies and close your eyes and play that record as you visualize doing those things.
Do a Yoga Nidra meditation to allow more pleasure to be sensed by your body, as it is proven to enhance the pleasure sensation received by your brain.
Make space and time for a vulnerable conversation with someone you deeply trust, if not someone you know then a therapist or counsellor, and if not that then the page- do a free write. Write down whatever comes to your mind in a free-flowing stream-of-consciousness way, and let the dump be released completely. Give yourself this release for at least 15-20 minutes.
May we all be healthy! <3
P. S. Tanvi Kulkarni can be found on Instagram at @tomatopickle and her Substack is linked here.