This Powerful Ocean (Blog #833)

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Hum. Since waking up this morning, I’ve felt generally blah. Mostly, I think, because of my sinuses and the fact that I didn’t get much sleep last night. I stayed up visiting friends, then got up early to have a nick in my windshield repaired. Apparently they don’t repair well during the heat of the day. Ugh, today was the day of spending money, first on the windshield, then on new brake pads. And whereas neither of these things was TOO expensive, the mechanic who replaced my brake pads said, “Crap. One of your struts is leaking. But don’t worry–I can fix it for $420.”

I can’t tell you how much I hate this news.

The last time I talked to my therapist about my financial concerns, she said, “I know it feels like you’re taking one step forward just to take two steps back, but hang in there. I’ve been exactly where you are and I promise–it won’t always be this way.”

This is my new mantra. It won’t always be this way.

In the past when I’ve been overwhelmed by money or anything else, my therapist has suggested self-care–crying, spending time with friends, anything I can do to let go and relax. So this evening, for the first time in a long time, I laced up my tennis shoes and went for walk. And whereas it didn’t solve any of my immediate problems, it did feel good to move. Hell, I even skipped part of the way. Might as well do some knee rehab, I thought. Also, although I didn’t cry, I did have one tender moment when I passed a particular evergreen tree that reminded me of several from my childhood. They were all in a row on the playground of the school I attended in first and second grade, and I remember crawling in between them to read a book or hide during hide-and-seek. Memories like this one always get me, I guess because they remind me of a time when I felt free.

This evening I started reading a book called Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth by Robert A. Johnson. I’m only about fifty pages in, but so far I’m riveted. The book quotes Jung, stating that our personality (our ego) is like a cork floating in the ocean, and our unconscious is the ocean. In other words, you’re probably not aware of the vast majority of you. The good news, the book says, is that our unconscious self daily makes an effort to communicate with our conscious self and give it information it needs. Through dreams, for example, which use SYMBOLS to convey important information that we’re not aware of in our waking state.

Several times before I’ve mentioned Internal Family Systems, a psychological model that sees each of us as made up of different parts, like the Inner Critic, the Inner Child, and others. Well, Johnson says the same thing, that our unconscious is made up of different energetic patterns (thoughts, emotions, beliefs) or personalities, and that it’s these patterns or personalties that clothe themselves in the images (or symbols) of our dreams. This is why if you dream about someone you think is a real bitch (or, on the other hand, a real class act), the dream isn’t about that honest-to-god person. Rather, it’s about the real bitch in you, the real class act in you.

Another point the book makes is that if you don’t learn to work with your unconscious consciously, it’s still going to reveal itself to you–through “psychosomatic symptoms, compulsions, depressions, and neuroses.” In other words, you’d better learn how to swim or you’ll end up drowning in your own ocean.

I said recently that there’s a theory that our needs (problems, challenges) arise because something bigger than our needs is wanting to emerge from within us. Along these lines, I’m encouraged by the idea of having an unconscious that’s so much bigger than my conscious personality. Granted, my conscious personality is what I’m used to. Hi, I’m Marcus. I teach dance. I’m a nice guy, a damn fine fella. Still, my conscious personalty doesn’t have the answers to a lot of my problems. Indeed, it worries about money and gets in quite the twist when things don’t go its way. So I’m really coming around to this idea of the unconscious, this powerful ocean inside of me, this powerful ocean that is me, full of answers and resources and–above all else–free.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Bodies are so mysterious, much more complicated than car doors. They take more patience to understand and work with. They require more than a couple hours to repair.

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The Best Way to Heal (Blog #832)

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Earlier today I started a new 1,000-piece puzzle–a Van Gogh painting. I’m almost done with the border. While working on the puzzle, I listened to a lecture about healing trauma by a hypnotherapist (Isa Gucciardi) in California. One of her contentions was that our symptoms (addictions, relationship issues, and even some physical symptoms) are our teachers, that if listened to can lead us to the heart of our problems.

For example, one woman who couldn’t (and didn’t really want to) quit smoking knew that she used smoking as a form of escape. Her life was busy–she had a bunch of kids–and smoking gave her a break and acted as a boundary that kept others away. What she realized in hypnosis, however, was that her desire for both escape and boundaries began when she was molested as a child. One man realized in hypnosis that he used chewing tobacco as a way to “be quiet,” a message he’d gotten as a teenager from his mother. For both people, once their root issue was recognized with compassion, they were able to give up their addiction (or symptom).

Based on everything I’ve read and studied, compassion for every part of yourself is a huge component in healing. There’s an idea in shamanism that when we experience trauma (which we all do and can take the form of something dramatic and physical or seemingly ordinary and psychological), parts of our soul splinter off because they can’t take the stress. Like, Deuces! However, thankfully, the can be coaxed back into the fold–with compassion. By listening to their story of what they went through (what YOU went through) and assuring them that you’ll take care of them (of yourself) from now on, they’ll gladly integrate.

This was a point the hypnotherapist made, that there isn’t a part of your personality or soul that doesn’t want to integrate. According to Jung, wholeness is the goal. Not because anyone can truly put Humpty Dumpty (all your broken pieces) back together again, but because the deepest, most true part of you, your soul, isn’t capable of being broken in the first place. In other words, that’s a part of you that’s ALREADY WHOLE and that knows how to heal, that knows how to gather up all your scattered pieces and get them working together again.

This, it seems, is the journey of a lifetime. Also, like the putting together of a puzzle, it’s apparently something that can’t be rushed. Personally, I get really eager for projects (including myself if I can rightfully refer to myself as a project) to be completed. I think, Let’s heal–today! Let’s solve all our issues this afternoon. But my therapist says I or anyone else would go nuts if their subconscious unleashed all its secrets at once. “You’d crack up,” she says. And so it seems that the best way to heal is a little bit here, a little bit there. One piece at at time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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For I am a universe–large–like you are, and there is room here for all that we contain. An ego, of course, is small, and it is disgusted and humiliated by the smallest of things. But a universe is bigger than that, much too big to judge itself or another, much too big to ever question how bright it is shining.

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On Breaking Through (Blog #831)

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Today has worn me out. This morning I woke up with (more) sinus junk. Then, after getting a good report from my knee surgeon (keep doing what I’m doing, things will continue to heal), I found out my insurance didn’t cover one of my physical therapy appointments (it’s a long story), so–no big deal–I owe about three hundred dollars. Ugh. I hate unexpected expenses, especially on a week like this one when I’m having my car’s brake pads replaced and windshield repaired.

When it rains, it pours.

This money thing really has distressed me today. This evening my aunt told me that she recently had to have both her freezers and her air conditioner repaired (and none of it was cheap), so I get that shit happens to all of us. I get that the thing with my insurance wasn’t personal and–quite frankly–probably wouldn’t have happened if I’d been more on top of things in terms of understanding the limitations of my policy. That being said, it did happen, and I refuse to beat myself up about not knowing because this is the first time in my life that I’ve HAD insurance and am still learning the ropes. Still, the last few years have been rough physically and financially, so anytime there’s an unanticipated blow in terms of illness or money, it just feels like getting knocked down all over again.

Like, maybe I should just stay down here.

I don’t mean to sound all woe-is-me. Rather, I intend to sound honest. This afternoon and evening I read a book, mowed my parents’ lawn, and went to the library. Today hasn’t been all bad. But I’ve nonetheless felt discouraged. I wish this were different. I wish I could chalk today’s financial setback–any financial setback–up to “shit happens” and “don’t worry–there’s more where that came from.” And yet I haven’t been able to do this. Granted, I’ve felt more at peace about the matter this evening. Tonight I went for a walk, and my ankles got absolutely eaten up by mosquitoes. For thirty solid minutes they itched, itched, itched, but now I can barely feel any irritation. Maybe our fears and emotions are like this. They just need time to calm down.

My therapist says to be patient with myself, that I was “poisoned” with the idea of scarcity and that it will take time to get it out of my system. Deep-seeded beliefs don’t change overnight. The book I read this afternoon, The Laws of Manifestation by David Spangler, says it’s not embarrassing to have a need (a bill to pay or illness to heal, for example) and that, in fact, our needs exist because something within us wants come out. That is, some people believe that manifestation is about getting more stuff, more money, that it’s about ATTRACTING something external TO you. But the book says true manifestation is about evoking something FROM you and that, in order to do this, you yourself (as your consciousness) must BECOME that which you believe is missing from your life–vibrant health, abundance, whatever.

Said succinctly, if you want something to change in your external world, the best way to go about it to change you internal one.

This includes changing your beliefs.

To me this means that I could win the lottery tomorrow but unless I change who I am and what I believe, I’m still going to feel there’s not enough. (What, ONLY thirty million?) Again, the book says needs arise because something within wants to come out–because something inside us wants us TO CHANGE. According to this theory, this means that the reason I’m currently experiencing scarcity is because abundance exists within me as a potential and wants to emerge. Think of the seed of a tree that wants so badly to grow that it’s willing to bust through concrete. This is how our subconscious works–it’s willing to destroy everything you’ve ever worked for–take every dollar you have–if everything you’ve ever worked for is no longer serving you. It’s willing to–again and again–bring up every fear you have so that you can finally face them, finally face yourself. So that you can break through that which has held you back, and grow.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It's never a small thing to open your home or heart to another person.

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Persistence, Persistence Ever (Blog #830)

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I spent this last weekend out-of-town and sick with a sinus infection. Since I’d left my probiotics (which usually help my sinuses) at home, Friday afternoon I went to a local Asian market (called Grace, which I thought was auspicious) and bought some homemade kimchi. (Kimchi sometimes, not always, contains the probiotic that helps my sinus infections.) Then, because I like the shotgun approach to healing, that night I went to a health food store and bought more kimchi (a retail brand), as well as regular probiotics.

Unfortunately, none of this helped. I woke up Saturday sicker than I was Friday. So that morning I went to another Asian market (called Lucky, which I hoped I would be) and bought more kimchi, this time a brand I’ve had good results with back home. Alas, after using that kimchi all day Saturday, I woke up Sunday (yesterday) still stick.

Talk about frustrating.

About ready to give up and be sick, I decided to try again. So off I went to another Asian market. This one had an unremarkable name, but it did, however, have a case of coconut water labeled CoCo (my nickname on this site) sitting right at the front door. Maybe it’s a sign, I thought. Anyway, I bought MORE kimchi, this time a brand that prints the production date on their labels. (The helpful probiotic in kimchi is only alive for so long after production, which is why using kimchi to help your sinuses is sort of a crap shoot based on brand, ingredients, and the age of the product.)

THANKFULLY, this bottle seemed to do the trick. Last night my friend Matt and I went swing dancing, and mid-way through the dance I started feeling like myself again–more energetic, less blah. Y’all, I really had the best time. This was my first occasion Lindy Hopping since my knee injury seven months ago, and I was in absolute heaven. Not only did I get to see some old friends, but I got to Lindy Hop. I love Lindy Hopping. Now–granted–my left knee didn’t perform like it used to, but it didn’t “act up” and it didn’t cause me any pain either. So it’s just going to be a process–a process of learning how to dance again.

This morning I woke up at 5:30 to drive back home, go to therapy, and run some errands. Then I unpacked, took a nap, and spent five hours reading a book I picked up this afternoon (The Call of the Phoenix) while running around. Now I’m trying to knock out tonight’s blog so I can go back to bed because I’m getting up early tomorrow for my six-month follow up with my knee surgeon. Talk about a journey. I know I still have progress to make, but I really have come a long way.

The word on my mind today is persistence. The book I read tonight said, “Persistence, persistence ever.” This weekend I bought four jars of kimchi and one bottle of probiotics in an attempt to cure my sinus infection. That’s four grocery stores and forty to fifty bucks, which to my mind is better than going to the doctor and using antibiotics, but the whole ordeal was nonetheless a pain the ass. Sinus infections are a pain in MY ass. But boy am I sure glad I persisted and went looking for that fourth jar. Still, for all I know, I could wake up sick tomorrow and be back to the drawing board. But in my experience, this is life. We dance. We fall down. However slowly, we get back up. We insist on dancing again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We always have more support than we realize.

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Less Perfection, More Joy (Blog #829)

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Currently I’m out-of-town. This morning, again, I woke up with a sinus infection. Color me not impressed. Oh well. This isn’t my first sinus infection rodeo, so I’ll continue to try various home remedies until something works. Historically, something has always worked, so fingers crossed. In the meantime, I’m taking it easy. This afternoon I finished reading a book about headaches that said headache sufferers are usually perfectionists and people pleasers. Check and check. These are things I’ve been working on–loosening up on myself, not giving a fuck what other people think.

Last night, Saturday, I attended the wedding of the couple I’ve been teaching the Dirty Dancing routine to. Y’all, this has been a journey. We had our final practice Friday night, and parts of it were still rough. A few times they successfully completed the big lift at the end of the dance, but a few times they didn’t. So yesterday I was a nervous wreck. My friend Matt attended the wedding with me, and I told him, “I honestly have no idea how this is going to go.” Eventually, the big moment came. After the ceremony happened and the room was flipped for the ceremony, the couple was announced and made their way to dance floor. First they did a traditional (high school prom style) first dance, then the music from Dirty Dancing started.

As their friends and family began cheering, the couple proceeded through their routine. Was it perfect? No. They weren’t always on beat. But was it fun to watch, enjoyable for both them and (I’m assuming) everyone in the room? Yes.

Absolutely.

Just before the big lift moment, something happened I didn’t know was going to. The groom’s best man and groomsmen, seven guys altogether, made their way to the floor and crouched down behind the groom in order to catch the bride if the lift didn’t go well. Later the groom told me, “I wanted her to feel safe and have extra confidence when jumping.” Perfect, I thought. It really was the cutest thing. And the best part? She didn’t even need the extra support. The couple totally nailed the lift, better than they ever have before. Phew. Talk about a cause for celebration.

Personally, I couldn’t have been prouder. As for the couple–and yes, I’m about to go there–they had the time of their lives.

Matt said he’s seen videos online of couples doing that lift who really screwed it up–brides who fell into their own wedding cakes and shit like that. Talk about embarrassing. So after “my” couple hit their mark, the rest of the evening was a breeze for me. Matt and I sat with some friends of mine from Fort Smith, and we laughed, laughed, laughed. Then when the dance floor was opened to the general public, Matt and I cut a rug to several west coast swing songs. This completely made my night, especially since this was my first time dancing, really dancing, since my knee surgery six months ago. Even better? My knee performed beautifully and isn’t in any pain today.

Woot.

As for the rest of today, I plan to go swing dancing tonight. Granted, I could drive back home and try to take care of my sinuses, but they aren’t the worst ever, and dancing is a real stress reliever for me. I could use this relief. I think about my students last night and how, even though their routine wasn’t perfect, they had so much fun and experienced so much joy. This is what I want for my life. Less pressure, more fun. Less perfection, more joy.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Who’s to say that one experience is better than another?

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We Could Use a Little Help Here (Blog #828)

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Well gross. I’m out-of-town for the wedding of some dance students and woke up sick morning. Sinus crap. I’ve been fighting it all week. I thought I was on top of it, but it appears to be on top of me. I hate that. Anyway, it’s 11:30 in the morning, and despite the fact that I haven’t left the place where I’m staying or done anything today, I’m blogging now because–come hell or high water–I’m attending that wedding this evening and don’t want to force my body to stay up late in order to blog. This is what I’ve realized, that even though I can’t immediately solve my sinus infection problem, I can do little things to support my body and decrease how much we suffer from it.

Down with suffering.

I said I haven’t done anything today, but that’s not exactly true. That’s never exactly true. Even if you lie in bed and snore all day, that’s SOMETHING. Well, after I got up an hour and a half ago, I ate breakfast (a protein bar and fruit), then read about thirty pages in a book I recently started about headaches. Today I learned that tension headaches (which I have) can be triggered by stress, anxiety (defined as fear without an object), and depression, as well as certain foods (often nitrate-containing) or liquids (alcohol, caffeine, or the withdrawal of caffeine).

The book said that for those of us who experience tension headaches it’s important to remove triggers. Granted, if your job is stressful, you may not be able to remove your job (or punch your boss in the face), but you can work at how you respond to your job or boss. For example, you could go for a walk or try meditation. Serenity now! For Type A personalities, the book suggested scheduling in time to relax. Like, make yourself shut off your phone, lie down, and stare at the ceiling fan. Or listen to the birds chirping. Or pet your dog or cat.

Another suggestion was to tense your major muscle groups (biceps, calves, quads, butt, back, shoulders, and neck) one-by-one and then relax them. The idea being that–if you do this enough–they get the message that if and when they get tense, the next thing they should do is relax. This theory made sense to me, so I tried it. (I let go a little. It was nice.) Once I heard someone say that just like you speak English (or whatever), your muscles speak a language too, a language they’ve been taught. So if your body is constantly tensed and stressed and you want it to behave or feel differently, you have to teach it how. You have to teach it a new language. You have to take time to say, Sweetheart, there’s nothing to worry about. You can let your guard down now.

I’m working on all of this, although it’s often overwhelming to think about and do when I’m sick. That is, when I feel like crap from a sinus infection AND have a headache (or even just tight muscles), I want to throw in the towel. More than that, I want to yell and scream at my body, Get yourself together. I get so impatient with myself. And yet when I don’t feel well, this is exactly the time that patience for myself is needed–because my body is clearly communicating that it’s had enough of the push, push, pushing, and the go, go, going. It’s clearly saying, We could use a little help here. We could use a little understanding.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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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.

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On False Emergencies (Blog #827)

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Last night I hung out with several friends for the Fourth of July. I snapped the above picture of me, my friend Kate, and her son at the party–because all three of us had holiday-inspired shirts on. (No one else did. Lame.) Mine said, “Tastes Like Freedom,” Kate’s said, “Firewerks,” and Kate’s son’s said, “I’m here for the hot dogs.” (Me too, kid, me too.) Anyway, we had a blast (get it, a blast?), but I didn’t get home and crawl in bed until after midnight. And whereas going to bed late isn’t unusual for me, since I also had to get up early this morning to go out-of-town for a wedding, I’ve been dragging ass all day.

The dragging ass part may have to do with my sinuses. Last Sunday I woke up with an infection but ended up kicking it in the butt earlier this week thanks to my adventures in probiotics (that is, sniffing probiotics up my nose). Really, I felt so much better mid-week. Still, I may not have completely turned the corner, since my energy has been low today and I’ve been a little snotty. I’m trying not to worry about it. Things could be worse, I keep telling myself. It’s not the end of the world. Nonetheless, since I don’t travel with my (refrigerated) probiotics, I hit the health food stores this afternoon to buy more supplies. Just to be safe.

We’ll see what happens. Only time will tell.

Other than the probiotics run, I’ve spent most of my out-of-town day going to bookstores. Believe it or not, I only bought one book–about gargoyles. I started to pick up a couple others, but searched the internet and found out I could read them for free through an online library I’m a member of. This is one way I’ve learned to save both money, physical space (in my room), and time (dusting)–using libraries. What a miracle! That being said, I’m currently maxed out the number of books I can check out online, and there’s all this pressure for me to read my butt off this next week so I can return the books completely read. This pressure, of course, is self-induced and what I call a False Emergency. Because the truth is nobody gives a damn if I read those books or not. The earth will keep spinning no matter what I do.

Speaking of False Emergencies, let’s talk about the couple who’s getting married tomorrow. They’re the ones who have been taking dance from me for a while, learning a routine. This evening we met for their final lesson before tomorrow’s performance. And whereas they got all parts of the routine “down,” they didn’t get them all down at at once (in one run-through). Granted, they’ve come a LONG way since they started a few months ago, and they look good. But, like I told them tonight, routines are inherently a funny thing–sometimes you nail them and sometimes you screw them up. Who’s to say what’s going to happen tomorrow? Anyway, that’s my point–I could worry about it, they could worry about it–but regardless, whatever will be, will be.

So don’t worry, be happy right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Love stands at the front door and says, “You don’t have to change a thing about yourself to come inside.”

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On Freedom (Blog #826)

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Two years ago on July 1 I was in a car accident. It was the death of my Honda Civic Polly. And whereas it wasn’t the death of me, it certainly left it’s mark. (I was rear-ended in the worst way. That’s a sex joke, Mom.) For one thing, my neck continues to hurt. It feels permanently braced. I get a lot of headaches. And whereas I’m working on healing, it’s a process. A process, that’s what the entire accident ordeal was–a process of seeing doctors, talking to insurance agents, and buying a new car.

The new car part is why I’m blogging about all of this now, on July 4th, because it was precisely two years ago today when I first saw, met, and test drove my now car, Tom Collins, whom I love and adore greatly. I remember it like it was yesterday. I pulled up at the car lot on America’s birthday thinking I was about to test drive a different car (a Ford Focus–ick), but the lot owner said, “The SUV we talked about yesterday came in a day early.” Indeed, there on in the middle of the lot sat a Hyundai Sante Fe, doors open, sparkling clean, and blaring one of my favorite songs on the radio–Africa by Toto. Well, I hopped in to go for a spin, and the rest is history. Before I got three blocks away, I knew This is it. Later my dad said, “Marcus, bite the bullet. You won’t be satisfied with anything else.”

Boy was he right. Two years down the road (haha), Tom Collins and I couldn’t be happier. Well, he’d probably be happier if he had new brake pads, but I should be able to take care of that next week. And by “I” I mean my mechanic. But seriously, I enjoy Tom Collins now as much as ever. I absolutely adore his heated seats, power windows, sunroof, and tons of storage space. He’s continues to be simply perfect for me.

All of this to say that earlier today I was contemplating whether or not I was happy or grateful that I was in that car accident, since without it I wouldn’t have acquired Tom Collins, the car that’s taken me to San Francisco and back, to Colorado and back. The car that’s taken me to therapy for the last two years. I thought, Am I GLAD that guy slammed into my bumper and gave me a seemingly permanent crick in my neck? Hum. That’s a good question.

So here’s what I came up with. In addition to giving me Tom Collins, that accident provided me several opportunities. For one thing, it gave me a chance to face my scarcity and talking-about-money issues by dealing with the insurance company of the guy who hit me. (They were asshats, by the way, although very “nice” about it.) For another, it allowed me to accept help from my doctors and caregivers, as well as from my insurance company, who, oddly enough, started covering me the very day of the accident. So, even thought it might sounds like a weird thing to say, yeah, I’m glad I was in that car accident.

Not that I want to repeat it.

It’s weird how we’re often so reluctant to say we’re glad something “bad” happened. It’s like we think we’re inviting trouble, more of the same, if we see the positive side to a difficult situation, so we say things like “not that I want to repeat it” in order to clarify–Hey, Universe, no more car wrecks. I don’t approve of this sort of thing. All of this is superstition. Being grateful for difficult circumstances (or even difficult people) that bring out the best in you doesn’t make them right or wrong or pleasant or fun. It simply means that you rose to an occasion and are happy you were given an occasion to rise to. For me, it’s becoming less and less of a question of whether or not I’m GLAD for the shit things that happen in my life. Why? Because it doesn’t matter whether I’m glad about them or not. Either way, they happen. Except it DOES matter whether or not I’m glad–to me. That is, in this moment I can bitch and moan about that terrible day two years ago and enslave myself. Or I can be glad and set myself free. It’s that simple. I choose to be free.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s not where you are, it’s whom you are there with.

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Good Help Is Good Hope (Blog #825)

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This morning I woke up with a screaming headache and tried every trick I know (mindfulness, acceptance, cursing) to get it to go away. Alas, nothing helped, so I took drugs, which sort of helped. Yesterday I saw my primary care physician, and she suggested a few things–muscle relaxers, a TENS unit, botox injections, learning not to carry my stress in my shoulders. “I’m for anything that will help,” I said. “I’m done with being in constant pain.” So after breakfast today I made some calls and ended up at a local pharmacy that had a TENS unit and–even better–could bill my insurance for it. And whereas it took thirty minutes for everything to happen, I got the unit, and it didn’t cost me a thing.

Praise the lord.

Thirty minutes. That’s my theme today. This afternoon I was supposed to teach an hour-long dance lesson, but when I got to the studio space, I realized I’d forgotten my key. Anyway, my student and I came up with an alternate location, but, because they had to get back to work, we could only do a thirty-minute session. Oh well.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

That’s what I’m hoping now, that I can pound out an entire blog in thirty minutes, since I have dinner plans soon and would really like to enjoy the evening without having the thought of writing on my mind. Before my dance lesson today I started reading a book about headaches and learned that migraines are often linked to perfectionist personalities. You know the type–go, go, go–nothing is every good enough. And whereas I don’t have migraines, I get it, that feeling of constant stress. Hell, with this blog alone, I’ve pushed, pushed, pushed myself to write when tired or headachey  so many times it’s not even funny. So I’m trying to give myself a break (instead of a breakdown). I’m doing everything I can to let up on myself, to take the pressure off both in my inner and outer worlds.

I’ll say it again.

I’m doing the best I can.

My therapist says she works with a lot of business owners/professionals–the driven kind–and that they almost all carry tension and pain in their bodies. “Especially the ones who believe in scarcity,” she says. I think this is fascinating, the way the body can and does mirror the mind. I definitely get the scarcity thing. It’s like there’s this desperation, this grasping. Not just with money, but with finding answers to health problems. My therapist refers to this desperation (nothing every works) as “a profound hopelessness.” That’s how my headaches and other health challenges always feel–hopeless. But–the good news is–I really do think this situation is getting better for me. Last week I set an intention to heal my headaches, to find an answer. And get this shit. In a week’s time, I’ve had three different people (two randomly and unsolicited) tell me about specific pillows they use that have helped their necks. Then I saw my doctor, and she was FULL of suggestions. I got the TENS unit.

The phrase that keeps coming to my mind today is “good help is good hope.” That is, today I’ve been encouraged that I’m not alone, “all is not lost,” and that, although I’ve explored many different options to relieve the tension in my life, there are others yet to explore. Also I’m encouraged that a lot can happen in a short amount of time (a lot can happen in thirty minutes), that a problem can hang around for years and go away in weeks, months.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s not where you are, it’s whom you are there with.

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Tits Up (Blog #824)

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Sometime yesterday I (apparently) found the magic probiotic/kimchi combination to heal my sinus infection. Last night after I blogged, my energy level kicked up, and I couldn’t fall asleep. Oh well, I’ll take being tired over being sick any day. Tired–that’s what I’ve been today, since I got up early to teach a dance lesson. Again, I’m fine with this. It’s nice to be employed. Did you hear that, Universe? I’m grateful for both feeling better and having work to do.

So please let’s keep this up.

Currently it’s one-forty-two in the afternoon, and I’m blogging now because I have a doctor’s appointment shortly and then the short-story writing class I’ve been attending for the last month. Earlier today, after my dance lesson, I went to Kinko’s and printed off a dozen copies of the story I finished yesterday, so everyone in the class can have one to either criticize or praise. Or both. Or remain silent.

I’m preparing myself for all reactions.

During this morning’s dance lesson, the wedding couple I’ve been working with practiced one of their stunts. You know that little moment at the end of Dirty Dancing when Patrick Swayze lifts Jennifer Grey over his head, like, no big deal. Well, it’s been going–um–okay, but today it just wasn’t happening. The groom’s arms were tired. His knees hurt (because another part of the dance requires his spinning on his knees). The bride was nervous. Ugh. It’s a big deal to trust someone else to hold you above their frickin’ head. There’s a part of the lift that requires the girl to push off the guy’s shoulders and immediately go into that “light as a feather” pose, and she kept hanging on.

Girl, I get it.

It’s hard to let go.

Earlier at Kinko’s I forgot to hit the “collate” option, and my pages printed like this–page 1, page 1, page 1–page 2, page 2, page 2. Anyway, I had to sort them myself by hand on an empty counter–page 1, page 2, page 3–page 1, page 2, page 3–and when the manager came over to see if I needed any staples or paper clips, I imagined that he saw the first page of my short story, then I got embarrassed because–What will he think? What will anyone think? Maybe it’s a bit of what I felt like when I started this blog. Here I am world, this is me.

In the Netflix serious The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, the main character is a standup comedian, and her manager–a real dude of a lady–always has the same encouragement for her client before she goes on stage–“Tits up.” This has become “a thing” with me and some of my friends, and I’ve started using it with my dance students, even though they haven’t seen the series. It means–stand up straight, lift your head (don’t look at the ground!), and BE PROUD. In all areas of my life, I’m working on this, on not shrinking or shying away or feeling ashamed, but rather being comfortable and confident in my skin and in my work, however much I weigh, however I happen to feel, and regardless of what others think.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We all need to feel alive.

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