Two Types of Pain: Signal and Noise

I first encountered Martha Beck's concept of "clean and dirty pain" a few years ago, and it transformed how I understand suffering. She calls it clean and dirty, but I like to think of it as signal and noise.

Pain arrives in two distinct varieties.

There's signal pain, or what Martha calls "clean pain." The sharp sting when hammer meets thumb. It's immediate, intense, and instructive. This pain carries a message worth receiving: be more careful next time.

But then comes the noise, or Martha’s “dirty pain.” It’s the unnecessary commentary track that follows: “I'm so clumsy. I always mess up. What kind of idiot hits their own thumb?" The initial pain was instructive; this secondary suffering teaches us nothing.

When a relationship ends, signal pain arrives as waves of grief that knock us off our feet. The birthday when they're not there to celebrate. The instinct to call them with news before remembering they're gone. These moments hurt terribly, but they also connect us to the truth: what breaks your heart reveals what matters to it. There would be no grief if there had been no love.

But then comes noise: "If only I'd been more attractive. I'll never find someone as perfect. This proves I'm unlovable.” This pain teaches nothing new. It keeps us trapped in a spiral of imagined inadequacies and self-punishment.

Signal pain connects us to reality. It's the universe's feedback mechanism, sometimes harsh but always honest. Noise pain disconnects us. It's the mind spinning stories, creating hypotheticals, reinforcing limitations we've constructed for ourselves. 

The difference matters because one type moves us forward while the other holds us back. Next time pain arrives, ask: Is this signal or noise? Is this teaching me something true about the world, or just replaying my greatest insecurity hits?

Make space for the signal. Let the noise fade.