The Bigger Picture (Blog #276)

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Last night my sister, brother-in-law, and I continued to work on our latest puzzle, a 2000-piece situation of Cinque Terre, a famous tourist spot in Italy. We’d all been working on it throughout the day, but really dug in after dinner. After a few hours of consistent progress, my sister and brother-in-law turned in about eleven. I, on the other hand, worked until three in the morning. I guess I got sucked in. I kept telling myself, Just one more piece. Y’all, by the time I dragged myself to bed, I’d pretty much put in a full day’s worth of work.

If only I could get paid for this.

Today I feel overwhelmed. I’ve been worrying about all my little health issues, which–honestly–are minor. Since one thing leads to another, I’ve also been worrying about when I’ll finally get a “real job” and move out of my parents house. Today marks exactly nine months since I started the blog, which means I only have three months until I hit the one-year mark, and I guess I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself for something “great” to happen by that time. I realize this isn’t a reasonable thing to do. Honestly, I just feel out of control. I could use a break.

Since today is the last day of 2017, maybe I’m simply doing a lot of reflecting. This last year has looked nothing like what I thought it would. On the outside, I didn’t work in the traditional sense. Consequently I spent the year with fewer physical possessions than planned. I only bought one pair of shoes, and I still don’t own a belt. As my therapist says, I’m basically living like a college student. Also, I spent the year lonelier, at least in the fact that I ended a longtime relationship with one of my closest friends. This is something I haven’t blogged about and don’t intend to at this point, but obviously had an effect. Much like the car wreck I had several month ago, it left its scars. Ultimately, however, it was a good thing.

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot today, the idea that experiences can be both painful and beneficial at the same time. I mean, this year has been a real kick in the pants in many respects, but I have gotten a lot out of it. This blog, for instance. For every challenge I’ve faced on the outside, this has been the place where I could work it out on the inside. And as for being lonely at times, this has been the place where I better learned to keep myself company, to be my own closet friend. Other good things have happened, of course. But today it seems that even positive changes are challenging, since they often turn your world upside down and require energy to adjust to. Maybe that’s what this last year has been–a big adjustment.

Now all I want to do is work on the puzzle. Honestly, it’s the best distraction, something that keeps me from focusing on my problems and, in the words of Emily Dickinson, going “down and down.” My sister and brother-in-law are on their way back from running around, and after we eat dinner, we plan to work on the puzzle to ring in the new year. I can’t think of a better place to be, with my family, back at the kitchen table. There I am able to focus. There I am able to be patient. There I can look at the bigger picture and trust that things are coming together, however slowly, one piece at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Abundance comes in many forms.

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Mario Kart and My Angry Liver (Blog #275)

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Yesterday I drove to Oklahoma City to pick up my aunt from my cousin’s house. Everyone kept thanking me, but I absolutely loved it. First, I adore being on the road, especially in Tom Collins (my car). Second, when I got there, my cousin fed me dinner–homemade chicken dumplings. Talk about winning. Also, I got to relive part of my childhood by playing the latest version of Mario Kart with my cousin’s oldest son, Carter. (That’s his youngest son, Garrett, above.) Y’all, I distinctly felt ancient. When I was a kid, there were only eight characters to choose from on Mario Kart, but now there are like twenty-five or thirty. (A creature of habit, I chose Princess Toadstool.) Plus, now you can pick your race car, your tires, AND your parachute. (Apparently race cars need parachutes.) Not only that, there’s a new button on the controller that acts as a camera. Carter kept saying, “Take a picture, take a picture,” but I only have so many fingers, and it took every single one of them to simply punch the gas and keep my car on the road.

When did life get so difficult?

As I’ve mentioned before, for the last few weeks I’ve been trying all sorts of over-the-counter medications, vitamins, and herbal supplements to calm down my allergies and histamine-ridden body. Well, completely frustrated, I messaged a chiropractor friend of mine yesterday, who suggested a relatively inexpensive product to cleanse my liver. Since I trust this person and they’ve recommended miracle products before, I picked the product up this morning and just started using it. We’ll see what happens–I’m hopeful.

As I tend to obsess about potential problems, I’m also paranoid and have spent the last hour on the internet gathering all the information I could from every holistic and crackpot website out there about overtaxed livers and how to clean them, the whole time thinking, Are we really going down this road again, Marcus? (Yes. Yes we are.) Now I’ve convinced myself I’m most certainly dying, so I’ve made a mental list of things I need to do: 1) Drink dandelion and milk thistle tea, 2) Eat salads with olive oil, carrots, and beets, 3) Consider coffee and apple cider vinegar enemas, and 4) Stop being so gullible. This is the battle I always wage with health information I find online, sorting out the useful from the useless.  I mean, just because you have tan-colored poop, does it really mean your liver is “tired” or “angry”?

Are body organs even allowed to have emotions?

Another health problem I’ve had for over six months is a pain between my shoulder blades, a kind of tingling sensation that won’t go away. It started one day when I was swimming, and so far no one, including my two chiropractors and three massage therapists, have been able to figure it out. Well, while reading about dirty, upset, overwhelmed livers, I learned that mid-back pain often means you have a liver “issue.” I don’t know who discovers or comes up with this information, but considering I’ve tried everything except a liver cleanse to help my back to no avail, I’m inclined to believe it. It’s at least as good as any other explanation I’ve been given. Again, we’ll see what happens.

Part of the reason I’m writing about all this is that I’m trying to talk myself down off a ledge. I’m sure this isn’t a surprise, but I really do tend to overreact when it comes to personal health problems. I start thinking, Oh my god, my liver is under pressure. (Aren’t we all?) But seriously, I’m–I’m–toxic. Quick, I’ve got to do something–anything–before I turn green. The next thing I know, I’m handing all my money over to some pachouli-wearing hippy in a health food store who swears up and down they cured their fibromyalgia with a table lamp made out of Himalayan sea salt. “Stranger things have happened,” they say. Like that’s a reasonable argument for buying a product.

“Do you take Mastercard?” I usually reply.

Granted, I guess stranger things have happened. Hell, I recently knocked out a sinus infection by sniffing fermented kimchi juice up my nose. So it’s not like the internet isn’t helpful. But I’m really working on taking everything I read with a giant grain of Himalayan sea salt. Like, even if my liver does need some help, things obviously aren’t that bad. It’s not like my skin is turning gray or anything. Plus, maybe it’s possible to simply try one product at a time and see what works, rather than doing what I normally do, which is go from taking zero to two dozen supplements overnight. The shotgun vitamin approach. As my therapist says, “All things in moderation.”

I’m telling myself that I’m doing the best I can–my liver is doing the best it can–we’re all doing the best we can. Last night when I played Mario Kart, each race was crazy. There were turtle shells flying everywhere, banana peels all over the track, bad weather and lightning bolts left and right. Carter gave me about three seconds of instructions, then I just got dropped into the middle of it. To say the least, it was a damn mess. But this is how life is, one big, chaotic mystery. Something that works for you doesn’t work for me, and vice versa. No one has all the answers. So we get up each day and we do the best we can. We try to take it easy on ourselves and we try to have a good time. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we take a few pictures along the way.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing was made to last forever.

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The Putting-Together Process (Blog #274)

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It’s Friday after Christmas, and I was just sitting at this laptop twelve hours ago. Since eight of those hours were spent sleeping, I officially have very little to say. I realize this isn’t a good way to advertise what’s going on here, sort of like a department store putting a sign in the window that says, “Come on in–nothing’s on sale.” Still, it’s honest. I mean, what happens before noon? In my world, rarely anything. But today I’m blogging even earlier than normal because I’m going out-of-town later to pick up my aunt, who’s been visiting her three grandchildren for the holidays. “I’m ready to come home,” she said.

With any luck, this will be done in less than an hour.

Last night I dreamed I was driving through one of my favorite areas of town, which was filled with new construction. There were two and three-story buildings, all in the process of being built, for blocks and blocks. My therapist says that buildings represent your physical body and your life, so I assume this dream represents all the mental, emotional, and physical changes I’ve made over the last few years, most of which have kicked into high gear since I started the blog. Since the dream didn’t involve just one house but rather an entire neighborhood, I take that to mean that I’m quite literally rebuilding my entire world.

Later in the dream a friend gave me a business card that was like a puzzle, several pieces that fit together like a game. Since I think puzzles are fun and challenging, I think this means that I need to reshape the way I look at business, which I usually associate with being overwhelming and “serious.” It’s like my subconscious is saying, “Lighten up, Marcus. It’s just another game.”

Anytime I start a project, I look forward to it being completed. If I redecorate a room, I love seeing it finished, everything in place. I can stare at it for hours. So I keep thinking about those buildings in the dream. I want them to be done. But currently my sister is working on the puzzle we recently started, and I’m reminding myself that the fun part is actually the building process, the putting-together process. That feeling of finished satisfaction that I love only comes after all the hard work has been put in. So I’m also reminding myself that this time in my life is vitally important because it’s when I’m laying my foundation and constructing a solid structure. Looking around my parents’ house, I don’t see a single two-by-four. They’ve all been covered up with sheetrock, paint and family photos. But I know they’re there, holding everything up.

You can’t build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in.

This reminds me that you can’t build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that’s going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is. In my experience, this is a long and boring process. And because you’re working on the parts that few people see or appreciate, it’s often a lonely process. So you’ve really got to believe in yourself and what you’re doing. Again, it comes down to integrity and making something solid of yourself, something that’s so well-built on the inside that it can handle any storm. This is challenging, of course–it’s meant to be challenging. But, like a puzzle, it’s also meant to be fun, something you have all the time in the world to work on and comes together one piece at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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if you're content with yourself and you're always with yourself, then what's the problem?

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Life and the Ouroboros (#273)

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This afternoon my aunt Carla and I took my nephews to Chick-fil-A. Y’all, the place was absolutely hopping. Apparently all you need is fried chicken and a kids’ play area to be the hottest family lunch spot this side of the Mississippi. There were children running everywhere. I only have two nephews, but I was doing a head count every fifteen seconds. I kept thinking, Your sister will not be happy if you lose one of her offspring. After we ate, the boys took their socks and shoes off and played in the activity zone for a while, crawling up ladders, sliding through tunnels. There were a bunch of other kids in there, all of them basically caged in behind a glass wall, their parents on the other side taking pictures. All I could think was that it was just one big germ pit, a place for toddlers to exchange cooties and challenge their immune systems.

When all that was over, we went to the Arkansas River Valley Nature Center in Fort Smith. Today was my first time there, at least the inside part, and it really was cool. They had a ton of information about wildlife and a lot of hands-on stations for learning about the outdoors. There were displays about rock formations, fossils, birds, bats, you name it. Most of the animals were fake or stuffed, but they did have several live fish and reptiles, including four poisonous snakes. We even got to watch a real “snake feeding,” which was simply a man throwing a live mouse into a snake pit, at which point one of the snakes bit the mouse then calmly waited for it to die. Talk about a cold-blooded killer. Personally, I was excited to see the snake swallow the dead mouse, but my older nephew didn’t want to stick around. He said, “I’m not a snake and don’t need to know what a mouse tastes like.”

Well shit. For the last three hours I’ve been otherwise occupied. My sister, my brother-in-law, and I started a new puzzle last night, and it keeps pulling me away from the blog. I really haven’t felt that great today, and since I tend to worry about my health, the puzzle has been the perfect thing to distract me from 1) dramatically convincing myself that I’m dying, and 2) writing about it. It’s just allergies, Marcus. A little post-nasal drip. Anyway, I worked at the puzzle until my eyes crossed, and now I’m back to blogging. It’s almost eleven in the evening, which is the latest I’ve written in the last three weeks.

Since it’s close to bedtime, I’m looking forward to wrapping this up and crawling in bed. It’ll be the warmest I’ve been all day. Plus, I started a new Netflix series a couple nights ago, and maybe I can get an episode in before I pass out. The show is called Ozark, and so far I’m four episodes in. It’s absolutely delicious. It’s about a man who moves his family to the Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri in order to launder eight million dollars for the Mexican drug lord who’s threatening to kill him if he doesn’t. Talk about someone with problems. The more I watch the show, the better my life looks by comparison. I mean, I may be unemployed and running a little low on energy, but at least no one is trying to put a cap in my ass.

That I know of, that is.

I never did get to see that snake eat that mouse today. But watching the snake bite the mouse made me think of something Joseph Campbell talks about. He says that life is a monstrous, violent affair, one thing having to die so that another can live. He says that only life exists, and it has to eat itself in order to survive. This idea is represented by many ancient symbols, the most prominent being the ouroboros, the snake that swallows its own tail. I think this is Jesus meant when he said there is no death. It’s not that mice aren’t killed by snakes, that cabbages and cows aren’t killed by humans, and that humans aren’t killed by–I don’t know–allergies, sinus infections, drug lords, and whatever. Everything that enters into the physical world eventually leaves it. But life itself continues. Having no beginning and no end, it manifests itself as everything you can think of (including me and you), and–although it appears to be changing constantly–doesn’t actually change at all.

 

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"You can't change your age, but you can change what your age means to you."

This Hazy, Gray Fog (#272)

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Last night I took two Benadryl to calm down my allergies and slept like a dream. Now it’s one-thirty in the afternoon, and I think the pills are still in my system. It’s like I’m in a fog, the world is kind of hazy. I actually like it. First, my sinuses are dryer, and my skin is less itchy. Second, although I’m sure there are a number of physical and emotional problems I could currently worry about, I can’t focus enough to remember what they are. I keep thinking, Eff allergies. Life is good. Que sera, sera. Y’all, those little pink pills are great–they’re like alcohol without the calories.

Of course, the fact that I can’t focus isn’t doing much for today’s blog, but you can’t win them all.

Yesterday I taught a dance lesson at a friend’s house. One of their sons is getting married. (Thus the dance lesson.) Anyway, when the dancing ended, we all sat around, visited, and were generally entertained by their two younger boys. I guess for Christmas the kids got a bunch of stilts, the bucket kind where you basically stand on upside-down plastic cups that stay pressed against your feet by virtue of long strings you hold in your hands. Well, there may have been whiskey involved, and before long I and some of the other adults were running around the living room with the kids, except we were hunched over because the strings were sized for toddlers and young children and not for those of us old enough to have our chiropractor on speed dial.

“This isn’t good for my lower back,” I said.

Later the boys put all the cups together and hid candy under them. Then the adults had to guess where the candy was. Y’all, I’m terrible at this sort of thing. After ten rounds, I think I walked away with two peppermints, one of which was a sympathy win. No wonder I always end up in the slow line at the grocery store and pick the wrong people to date. Whatever you do, don’t let me go to Las Vegas. Stick to blogging, Marcus. Stick to blogging.

This morning my older nephew led me in a game of treasure hunt in which he left notes or clues that led me from one location in the house to another. First I was at the refrigerator, then under one of the beds, then on the couch, and so on. This is really creative, I thought. Well, the final destination was my mom’s bathroom, where my nephew was waiting. And get this–the “treasure” I received was getting squirted in the face with a water bottle. I was dripping. My nephew couldn’t stop laughing. “He’s been reading a lot about practical jokes,” my sister said.

“Lucky me,” I replied.

Last night I started to get wrapped up in my current histamine reaction, falling down the rabbit hole of worrying and thinking, What am I going to do? But then I took a deep breath and spent a few minutes remembering all the longstanding problems my body has solved over the years, most of which it did without my help. Well, in short order, I had an entire list–warts that lasted a year, body odor that lasted at least six months, skin rashes, infections, flu viruses that dragged on and on–all things that are currently over. This is something I plan to do for at least the next week or two, make an effort to recognize the times my body has come through and won the day. Since God knows I’ve spent plenty of time pointing out my body’s failures lately, I think it’s only fair to balance the scales.

My therapist says that life isn’t black and white, but rather “a lot of gray.” My this-or-that, all-or-nothing brain doesn’t love this idea, but it seems to be correct. The truth is that just as I don’t win games all the time, I don’t lose games ALL the time either. Sure, sometimes I end up with water on my face, but, more often than not, I’m perfectly dry, nothing to complain about. Likewise, I’ve had my share of health problems, but probably no more than average. What’s more, my body has proved itself capable of restoring order on more than one occasion. I guess this is another way of talking about balance, being able to see that you win some and you lose some and that life isn’t one thing or the other. Instead, like my world on antihistamines, life itself seems to be a fog, this hazy, gray thing that creeps along, touches everything, and leaves nothing out.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All great heroes, at some point, surrender to the unknown.

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Life: Perfect As It Is (Blog #271)

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Praise the lord and all the saints–I’m feeling so much better. Pretty much all of my sinus junk is gone. That being said, my body is tired, probably from the storm it just came through or maybe from allergies. I haven’t figured out how to solve that problem yet. It bothers me that I do this, by the way, talk about my ailments so much, like an old person. Specifically it bothers me that I’ve vastly improved but am hyper-focused on what little bit still needs fixing. I’m sure this is the perfectionist in me. It’s not enough that things are “mostly working,” so I spend half the day thinking about how I can combine vitamins, herbal teas, and anti-histamines in order to produce a “complete” miracle.

I should probably get out of the house, do something to distract myself.

My own mother said, ‘Marc, you look pretty gay.’

Last night I took a nap and woke up to the conversation of my parents and sister and brother-in-law. Part of it centered around a new jacket my aunt bought for my mom, this winter wraparound situation that came from Walmart. When I came out of my room, my sister was wearing it and talking about how great it was. “Really warm, and they come in every color.” Well, before it was all said and done, I tried it on, and everyone was absolutely right. Both warm and cozy, it was like a blanket with pockets. It felt like wearing a dream. Still, it was distinctly feminine, and my own mother said, “Marc, you look pretty gay.”

“Good,” I said as I lifted my chin in the air. “I am pretty gay. Now pass me my martini.”

Currently I’m wearing the jacket, and I don’t know what it’s made out of, but I’m sure it was invented by NASA. I simply couldn’t be more comfortable. Well, I guess I could be more comfortable, that is if I had a pair of underwear and a pair of socks made out of this stuff. Hell, why don’t we just throw in a pair of pants while we’re wishing? Actually, I think a matching holiday outfit would be just the ticket, the perfect thing to carry me through until tank-top weather.

For the last day my older nephew has been bugging me to watch a video game tutorial with him online, something about Bugs Bunny. My impression is that this could take a while, and I keep telling him, “But I don’t even own a video game system.” With all the logic of a seven-year-old, he replies, “You can buy one.” Anyway, this became a big damn deal earlier. I had just started the blog, and he was all up in my business, not taking no for an answer. Eventually, my sister had to get involved. This sort of thing happens a lot with him–he’s really determined and has a strong will. These aren’t bad qualities to possess, of course, it just depends on what you apply them to. For example, I think it’s fine for me to push toward figuring out my health problems or getting this blog done every day, but there comes a point when I have to chill out and realize what’s beyond my immediate control. No wonder I get exhausted. You can’t push all the time and expect to never hit a wall.

You don’t need to change a thing in order to be happy.

I guess we all have our ideas about how life should go. We want to be healthier, we want to be warmer, we want to watch Bugs Bunny–whatever. Joseph Campbell says there are three basic types of mythologies or ways of looking at the world. The first type says life is suffering–let’s get enlightened and get out of here. The second type says there are two powers running around down here–good and evil–let’s increase the good and make the world a better place. The last type, however, which is actually the oldest of the three, affirms life exactly as it, with all its ups and downs, pluses and minuses, sufferings and exultations. It says life is perfect–period. This is a philosophy that’s tough to swallow, but it’s the one that makes the most sense to me, the one I’m trying to come around to, the idea that you don’t need to change a thing in order to be happy.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It's the holes or the spaces in our lives that give us room to breathe and room to rest in, room to contain both good and bad days, and--when the time is right--room for something else to come along.

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It’s SNOT the Holiday That Matters (Blog #270)

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Last night I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning working on the puzzle my family started yesterday. It’s the American flag made out of smaller images, and I finished the blue section. Since I’ve been feeling like crap, it was a nice distraction. This morning I may have experienced a Christmas miracle–I woke up feeling better. Not over the moon, but certainly better. I’m attributing this to a new jar of kimchi I got yesterday, only the fourth I’ve bought this week. As I understand it, kimchi can contain bacteria to help fight sinus infections, but it depends on the brand and how far along it is in the fermentation process. Since most companies don’t print the manufactured date on the jar, it’s kind of a crap shoot.

Anyway, regardless of whether it’s that, all the vitamins I’m taking, or the six-pound baby Jesus, I’m not coughing or congested today. My allergies are still acting up, and I’m paranoid because my snot is green, but I just read that green snot can actually be a sign that your white blood cells are hard at working fighting an infection. (Go get ’em, guys.) Mostly I’m trying to not overthink this but rather be grateful that for the first time in a week I’m experiencing a modicum of relief.

Obviously, today is Christmas. For the last week or two, I’ve been thinking that I’d write an essay about my experience with Christmas, about how as a child I was so meticulous about putting up lights and decorating that I really shouldn’t have had to announce my sexuality all those years later, and about how my family stopped celebrating Christmas when I was a teenager because of its pagan origins (winter solstice rituals, etc.). Anyway, at some point I’d like to process all that, but I haven’t had the energy for it lately, nor do I today. Maybe later. Still, I will say that at this point in my life, I don’t take a strong position on the celebration of holidays. I used to really enjoy them and even decorated my house a couple years ago for Christmas, but when you give up all your traditions for a decade or two, it’s hard to go back to them, especially when your family doesn’t recognize them.

To be clear, I’m not making an argument for or against anything. I understand why people celebrate Christmas, celebrate something else, or don’t celebrate anything at all. Some years I miss the magic of this season. There are years when I see families getting together, eating big meals, and exchanging gifts, and it’s just another day for me. That can be lonely. At the same time, it’s easier on my wallet. (For every down there’s an up.) But this year, even though there’s not a tree with a bunch of gifts underneath it, my family is here. We spent the day finishing the puzzle, my mom has been playing and laughing with my nephews, and now my sister and brother-in-law are getting ready to grill burgers. All things considered, it’s been a wonderful day.

The main reason my sister and her family came to visit was to see my mom before she has her mastectomy next month. Since the boys are out of school for the holidays, this was clearly a good time to do that. But I for one am glad it worked out the way it did, that whether for a holiday, an illness, or a puzzle, we’ve made a point to come together. Currently I’m sitting in a chair, and my nephews are crawling all over me. The older one took away my laptop for a while, and I just got it back and he’s swinging a sword in front of my face. (It’s actually a piece of cardboard, but he’s pretending it’s a sword.) Now it’s time for dinner, so I’m gonna go. Whatever you’re doing today, I hope it’s a good day. Mostly, I hope you know that it’s not the holiday that matters, but those with whom you spend it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Kindness is never a small thing."

This Big Jumbled Mess (Blog #269)

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Well, the whole damn family is here, and I don’t mind saying that my nephews, who are seven and three, are not quiet people. Since the last time I saw them, they’ve apparently learned to screech in such a way as to replicate the sound of a tornado siren. This, of course, is difficult to sleep through. Last night I told my sister that I’ve been trying to change my sleeping schedule, working on getting up earlier. She said, “We can help with that.” Obviously, she was right. This morning as the boys were screaming bloody murder, she yelled above them, “YOUR UNCLE IS SLEEPING!” I immediately shot out of bed.

Wasn’t that nice of her?

When I came out of my room, my nephew Christopher, the older one, gave me a hug. I thought that was sweet, but then he smelled my morning breath and pinched his nose and marched to the other side of the room. This is the same child who once pointed to my face when I asked him what wrinkles were. Talk about an angel. A real diplomat, that one. Currently he’s playing a game, but he’s spent most the day drawing characters from the cartoon Captain Underpants. Captain Underpants–this is the generation we live in. Whatever happened to Mighty Mouse?

Here’s a picture of me with my other nephew, Ander, who, in addition to be able to break crystal with his high-pitched cries, likes to hide under blankets.

When I pulled the blanket off Ander, I found him playing a game on my sister’s phone. This is how the boys, Mom, and I have spent most the day–glued to our respective electronic devices. (It’s the holidays!) Well, that’s not completely true. Earlier my dad and brother-in-law started a hundred-piece Spiderman puzzle my mom bought at the dollar store. But–honestly–they screwed it up, so my sister and I had to fix it. Really, our family never does puzzles. We’re just not “those kind of people.” You know the kind–puzzles, playing cards, and board games people. Again, we like our electronic devices.

That being said, I guess times are a-changing, since after the Spiderman puzzle my sister thought it would be “fun” to do a bigger puzzle, like one the whole family could work on. You know, bonding time. Well, as luck would have it, Dad had a thousand-piece Americana puzzle in his closet that had never been opened. So now my sister, dad, and brother-in-law are working on the puzzle at one end of the table, and I’m typing at the other. Everyone has their own idea about what needs to happen, of course, which section to start on. It’s a big jumbled mess. Ever the competitor, my brother-in-law suggested keeping score, like who can put the most pieces together. “I think you’re missing the point,” I said.

I keep getting distracted by the puzzle, wanting to join in and help figure things out. I’m still fighting the crud and am about ready to give up on the idea of ever being well, and it’d be nice to tackle a solvable problem. Earlier I was looking at all the bottles of vitamins I’ve purchased over the last month and thought, This is ridiculous, Marcus. I think this a lot about my life. I think about all the physical possessions I’ve sold, the fact that I’m living with my parents, the fact I feel like a bag of ass and yet force myself to sit down every day, every damn day, to write this blog and get nothing tangible in return. Even to me, these things often don’t add up. But that’s how things go. So here I am, here we all are, trying to put our pieces together, doing the best we can to make something out of this big jumbled mess we call life.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We all need to feel alive.

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What I’m Gaining (Blog #268)

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It’s two days before Christmas, and my sister, brother-in-law, and their two boys are on their way here from New Mexico. They’re bringing their own food because they’re healthy eaters. They actually have a food cooler that plugs into their car’s cigarette lighter. Mom’s been cleaning out our refrigerator, throwing away old deli meat and unused packets of hot sauce from Taco Bell, clearing every square inch she can in order to make room for my sister’s unhomogenized grass-fed milk and organic tortillas. The whole affair has my dad in a tizzy, a little too much change too fast. “Don’t throw that jar of pickled beans away, Judy!” And it’s only going to get better. This time tomorrow the boys will be running around underfoot, scattering Crayons and Legos all over the kitchen table and living room floor. Hell, I’ll probably find some floating in the toilet. It’s going to be glorious mess.

But don’t worry, I’m sure there’s some whiskey here somewhere.

My sinus infection/cold continues to persist. Ever the dramatic, I’ve been thinking about writing my own eulogy and preparing myself for the afterlife. I mean, if this were the Middle Ages, I’d already be a senior citizen, so I think I can say I’ve had a good run here. Yesterday I read that some people have cured sinus problems by sniffing probiotic powder. So last night I picked up a bottle of probiotic capsules from my aunt then went to The Vitamin Shoppe to pick up a different brand, just in case. But before I went into the store, I emptied the contents of a single probiotic capsule onto a sheet of paper and snorted the powder up my nose like a cocaine addict. Honestly, it wasn’t the smoothest experience. The powder kind of clumped around my nostrils. Maybe it would have gone better if I’d put the powder on a mirror and chopped it up with a credit card.

I can’t believe I’m telling this story. A thirty-seven-year-old man snorting probiotic powder in a parking lot. What would I have said if a cop had seen me? I swear, officer, it’s acidophilus!

Walking into The Vitamin Shoppe, I had so much white powder on my face it looked like I’d been eating a funnel cake with both hands tied behind my back. Paranoid, I wiped my face with my shirt, got what I needed, and got out. Chill out, Marcus, no one thinks you’re a drug user. As of this moment, I’ve tried the treatment a few times, and I can’t tell that it’s making a difference one way or the other. Maybe it’s not supposed to be an instant cure, or maybe it’s just more internet crap. Either way, I’m still sick, still coughing up junk, still as frustrated as ever.

I’ve been slowing working my way through the book I have about holistic sinus health. Last night I read the section of vitamins and minerals, and apparently I’m not taking enough to kick an infection. The book says it takes 15 supplements to do the job, not 12. But then it also says an air filter, a negative ion particle generator, a humidifier, and the Archangel Gabriel would be nice. (I made up that last part.) Regardless, there are million helpful hints, a veritable shotgun approach of ideas. And whereas I appreciate all the thorough suggestions, I can only afford so many of them. But for crying out loud, it’s not like I’m not trying over here. Seriously–mad props to this infection for being such an indestructible bastard.

Mad props means extreme support or high praise, Mom.

Now it’s three in the afternoon, and I’m considering cleaning up and running some errands when this blog is done. I need a few food items (and maybe more supplements!) and have no desire to brave the streets and stores tomorrow. Today will be bad enough, but it is what it is.

Last night as I was sniffing probiotics up my nose, I laughed at how crazy it was. At the same time, I realized that I actually enjoy this whole process of experimentation. Let me be clear, I want this thing to go away. But there’s part of my personality that enjoys digging my heels in, trying one more thing, continuing to look for an answer long after many people would have quit. To me this feels like an act of self-care, of not giving up on myself and the idea of something better. At the very least I’m gaining patience, endurance, and compassion, three things I’m finding to be hard to come by, high-priced, and, most importantly, worth whatever you have to go through to get them.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing requires letting go of that thing you can’t let go of.

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Finding a Better Version (Blog #267)

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Well here we are again, blogging. Welcome back to the world-wide web. I just finished breakfast, and up until a few minutes ago, the house was quiet. Dad was out running around. Mom and even our dog, Ella, were sleeping. But now Dad is home, shouting into the telephone, and Ella is rolling around the floor. Like they own the place. So I have my headphones in and am trying to find my happy writing place while listening to Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits, but it’s not really working. Emotionally, I’m frustrated. Physically, my skin is itching, my head is full of snot, and I’m pretty much “done with this shit” on every level.

Still, I’m trying to be pleasant.

Last night I dragged my ass out of the house to attend the musical Finding Neverland at Walton Arts Center in Fayetteville with a friend of mine. I got our tickets at the last minute, so we didn’t end up in the same row, but we did end up really close to the stage. This made the costumes, characters, and staging even more magical than they already were.

The show tells the story of how JM Barrie came to write Peter Pan and is absolutely delightful, although not completely historically accurate. (I’ve read a lot about Peter Pan.) For example, Barrie based Peter Pan on the children of the Davies family. The show says he met Mrs. Davies and her four boys after her husband died. In reality, Barrie met Mrs. Davies long before her husband passed away and wasn’t particularly liked by him. Also, there were five boys, not four. Michael, whom the character Peter Pan was most strongly based on, came to hate the association.

I don’t particularly have a problem with the fact that the show had to twist the facts in order to tell its story. Still, the commercial for the show does say it’s a true story, not based on a true story, and that’s clearly misleading. Maybe I’ve read too much about it to be objective. One of the things I love about musical theater is that it takes a messy, imperfect world and turns it into perfection. Look! Everyone’s doing a grapevine in unison! And the show certainly did that. Again, it was magical. Honestly, I like the stage version of Barrie’s life better than the one you can find on the internet. Perhaps we all deserve this–a better version of ourselves.

Today I spent some time editing my social media settings, turning off the majority of my push notifications. (Mom, push notifications are the pop-up messages that alert you, “John just liked your tweet,” “Debbie just tagged you in a photo,” or, “Jack just went to the bathroom at Western Sizzlin’.”) Additionally, I unsubscribed from a number of email lists and “unjoined” several groups on Facebook. All of this was in an effort to have fewer distractions, simplify, and spend less time in the virtual world and more time in the real one.

Now it’s five in the evening, and I’m ready to go back to bed. I’ve been debating on getting out tonight, going to a party or running to the natural health food store to try “one more thing.” But I think when this is done, I’m going to take a nap, stop trying so hard if only for a night. Even if the house can’t be quiet, maybe I can be. Chill out, Marcus. Rest. I’ve been thinking today that we’re allowed to rewrite our stories. This isn’t about changing the past, but rather about changing the future. Even if we’ve always done something one way, we can do it differently. We can spend less time online, take better care of ourselves, try to be pleasant, whatever it takes to find a better version of ourselves.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our shoulders weren’t meant to carry the weight of the world.

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