The Water Wouldn’t Let Me Worry (Blog #935)

What a delightful day. This afternoon I helped a friend work on their deck for two and a half hours, and that was it. By 3:15 I was a free man. And whereas the old me would have gone to a coffee shop and read a book, the new me grabbed a smoothie and headed to Natural Dam.

I’ll explain.

Yesterday I wrote about my taking a 10-day online class with Wim Hof, who promotes deep breathing and cold exposure as ways to tap into your potential, reset and exercise your nervous and cardiovascular systems, relieve stress, and heal. Today was day eight of the class, and the suggested assignment was 1) spend thirty minutes walking in nature, preferably barefoot, and 2) if possible, go for a swim in cold water. Since Wim suggests doing all this in a pair of shorts (fewer clothes means more cold exposure and more vitamin D), today was the perfect day for it–it was 66 degrees outside. Any less and this self-avowed cold hater may not have been on board.

Something that’s come across my radar screen the last few months is the idea that being in nature is good for us. I know, I know, it makes sense, fresh air and whatever. Wim points out that we exhale carbon dioxide, and trees inhale carbon dioxide. Conversely, trees exhale oxygen, and we inhale oxygen. So no wonder being in nature feels good. We are one system. Tonight I watched a documentary called Heal for Free about the benefits of grounding or earthing, physically connecting with the earth by walking barefoot or touching a tree. And whereas I can’t say anything about the science behind it, I do know it feels good. This afternoon I walked the trails at Natural Dam for half an hour, and it was absolutely fabulous.

Of course, I had to be careful while walking barefoot. There were plenty of hard rocks and sharp stickers along the way. That being said, I simply watched where I was going and moved slowly. Perhaps this is one of the benefits of walking barefoot–it forces you to be mindful. Plus, there’s something about literally touching the earth that feels good. There’s something primal about it.

Will I feel this way when it’s 42 degrees outside? I doubt it, but I’m open to the idea.

As good as walking in nature felt, what felt even better–and yes I’m being serious–was slipping into the cold waters of Mountain Fork Creek (the creek that feeds Natural Dam). That’s right, I did it, I got in. And whereas I don’t know how cold the water was, I know it was certainly chilly. Still, once I took a few deep breaths and submerged myself to my neck (I had to lie flat because I apparently picked a shallow spot to climb in), I was okay. Granted, I never got warm, but I did stop shivering and actually relaxed. And whereas it wasn’t deep enough to swim, I did kick my legs around and managed to stay in for–I’m guessing–five minutes.

Believe it or not, I can’t wait to do it again. For those five minutes–and this is the point of cold exposure–I was absolutely present, just enjoying the sensations, taking in the gorgeous sights. (Have you ever lay in a running creek and really looked at a tree overheard or stared at the horizon?!) Seriously, when you’re in cold water, you’re too busy breathing to think about your bills. I tried, but the water wouldn’t let me worry. What’s more, when it was over, I was left with a natural high, a sense of being truly alive, like I was bigger, stronger than I was before.

I’ve never gotten this feeling from watching Netflix.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Growth and getting far in life have nothing to do with where you’re physically standing.

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Capable (Blog #934)

Five weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating between noon and 8 PM) and eating healthier (mostly paleo). When I weighed in a week ago, I’d lost 9.8 pounds (woowho). When I weighed today I was up a pound (boo). Still, this is a total loss of 8.8 pounds, and that’s not too shabby, especially considering I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for the last three weeks and haven’t done much exercising. Thankfully, the junk seems to be (finally) clearing out, so forgetting that which is behind, I press forward toward the mark of getting into my own pants (since I can’t get into anyone else’s).

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

Since I began intermittent fasting, a number of people including my therapist have suggested I try fasting for at least a day because fasting for longer periods of time gives your body a break (from digesting) and allows it to focus on healing. So in the spirit of trying new things for the sake of my health (and waistline), starting last night at 9:30 (after I ate a piece of pumpkin pie), I fasted for 23 hours. And whereas I was definitely hungry, it wasn’t terrible. In fact, today was kind of the perfect day. I slept in, spent six hours watching Season 3 of The Deuce, and went for a hourlong walk. Then at 8:30 I had dinner (thanks, Mom). And whereas I ate two helpings, I didn’t go crazy. Now it’s 9:55 and I feel fine–not hungry, not full.

For me the hardest part about not eating for almost 24 hours was deciding I could do it. It’s weird how attached you can get to the idea of food. You think, I’ve got to have it. Last night and this morning (before I’d fully committed to doing this thing) I thought, I’m not sure if I can skip two meals. What if I die? Of course, I didn’t really think of fasting as a matter of life and death, but I did wonder the same thing I’ve always wondered when I’ve quit cigarettes–What if I’m not strong enough? But having quit cigarettes and now having fasted for just under a day, I know I am strong enough. In both cases, it was just a matter of deciding I was going to do it.

And then doing it.

Something else I’ve recently decided to do is take cold showers. This last February I listened to a podcast about the benefits of cold exposure, and although the idea of exercising your cardiovascular system by subjecting it to varied (cold) temperatures made sense to me, I didn’t do much with it. However, last week I signed up for a free 10-day online class with The Iceman, Wim Hof, who’s a huge proponent of cold therapy and deep breathing. Wim has been awarded 26 world records, including one for climbing Mt. Everest in a pair of shorts. Anyway, I figured if he could do that, I could take a two-minute cold shower, which I did today. And whereas it was shocking at first, like the fasting it wasn’t terrible. Once I started breathing deeply (which your body does instinctively if you don’t hold your breath), it was fine. Not pleasant, not cozy, but fine.

As a self-professed cold hater, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but taking a cold shower was actually fun. At least it was fun when it was over. Wim says your body releases cannabinoids and opioids when exposed to cold temperatures, so maybe that was it. Regardless, I did feel euphoric, more alive.

Having struggled with sinus issues most of my life, there’s a part of me that always feels weak. Like I could fall ill at any moment. Consequently, I often don’t trust my body. I get invited to do things, go on long trips, and I think, What if I can’t? What if I get sick? And whereas I don’t have all the health answers I’d like to have (who does?), one of the positive things that’s come out of my journey the last few years is that I’m beginning to trust my body more. Last year I went through a battery of tests that basically said I was healthy as a horse. My immune system is stellar. I don’t have allergies. Granted, I still get some crud now and then, but little by little, I’m coming around to the idea that my body isn’t broken. At the very least I’m learning that I’m stronger than I thought I was. I can fast. I can handle the cold. I can write every day for over two and a half years. Now this is what I’m convinced of–that we are all capable of more than we realize.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Go easier on yourself.

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On Slowing Down and Acceptance (Blog #933)

Today I’ve been thinking about slowing down. I’ve been thinking about slowing down a lot lately, but today I’ve been thinking about slowing down and being okay with it. Like really being okay with it, not just saying I am. This has been on my mind because a couple weeks ago I came down with some sinus crud, and it’s seriously put the brakes on my being constantly productive. For example, I haven’t felt much like reading, writing, or going to the gym. What have I felt like doing? Sleeping, sleeping, and watching television, the things I judge myself the most for. Still, I can’t imagine forcing myself to work would help me heal any faster, so I’m left with what one of my friends says is the most difficult thing in all of self-help and spirituality–acceptance.

For me acceptance means being at peace with the way things are in this moment. Yesterday I weighed myself and discovered I’d gained a pound this week. Maybe because I haven’t exercised. Regardless, I can hate this fact (and I kind of do) or I can accept it. And whereas accepting something you don’t like may feel like a resignation, it’s actually an act of empowerment. In denial (my weight is fine, my job is fine, my relationships are fine), we become children who cover our eyes and ears. We cut ourselves off from reality. But in acceptance (my weight is a problem, my job is a problem, my relationships are a problem), we become adults who see and hear clearly and are therefore able to act clearly.

Not that any of this is fun. Tonight I had dinner with a friend who suggested I should date a local celebrity. For a moment, I got excited. But then I looked at his social media and found out he was already dating someone–a girl. Just like that, the fantasy was over. Acceptance. Alas, more than once I’ve put myself through hell wanting someone to be who they weren’t–gay, available, smart, kind, interested. My therapist says she’s done the same thing. Now whenever she finds herself falling for her fatal-attraction type (we all have one), she reminds herself, Do I really want to go down this road again?

What a great question. Experience has taught me what certain people are like in relationships. Likewise, experience has taught me what happens when I eat a certain way, when I don’t exercise my body. I can wish til the cows come home that twenty-two year old twinks were fabulous conversationalists and chocolate cake were a metabolism booster, but these wishes will never come true (no offense, twinks). So at some point (like now), it becomes incumbent upon me to stop wishing things were different than they and–here’s an idea–make responsible choices accordingly.

Like an adult.

Getting back to the idea of slowing down and being okay with it, I’ve talked before about how nothing that really matters happens fast. For example, I’ve grown tremendously through therapy and this blog, but therapy has taken five and a half years, and this blog has taken two and a half. I’ve seen good results from one month of intermittent fasting and eating mostly paleo, but it’s not realistic to think I’m going to lose two pounds a week for the next year. If that were the case, I’d end up weighing eighty pounds. No, there are going to be ups and downs, little setbacks here and there. Our fast-food society would have us believe otherwise, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Likewise, healthy bodies, jobs, and relationships aren’t built in a day either.

Last month was the fall equinox. This means that until the winter solstice, there will be increasingly more darkness and less light each day (at least for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere). Accordingly, there will be less heat. And whereas I normally despise the cold, this year I’m okay with it. I won’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to this season because it means slowing down, staying inside, and being more introspective. I’m excited about reading more and working on puzzles, about letting the story of my life unfold one page at a time, one piece at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If life can create a problem, it can also provide an answer.

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Tonight I Shall Be a Commoner (Blog #932)

Last night I blogged about how I was going to start listening to my body, how I was going to rest more. This morning, true to my word, I slept in as late as possible. About 10:30. Then I rested for an hour. And whereas I don’t think I’m completely healed from my two-week-long sinus crud, I am feeling better. Things are less–gross. All in all, it’s been a lovely day. This afternoon I went on a photo assignment and met a nice old lady who gave me candy. I know, I know, don’t take candy from strangers, but this lady was a professional candy maker. Plus, my dad told me that if she offered me candy and I turned it down, I shouldn’t even bother coming home.

“Don’t give her that bullshit about being on a diet,” he said.

Far be it from me to disobey my father.

After the photo assignment, I caught up with an old friend over coffee. Now it’s 6:22, and I’m hoping to finish blogging super quick, eat dinner, then head out of town for a swing dance. Part of me (my perfectionist) is dying because I’m used to blogging more, blogging longer, but blogging shorter is another way for me to listen to my body, to rest. Plus, it gives me an opportunity to dance, and dancing meets several of the goals I set as part of my one-year-to-forty makeover that started several weeks ago–have fun, move more, burn some freaking calories. A dancing friend says, “If you’re not sweating, you’re not swing dancing.” Today my coffee friend said, “Sweating is so common.” Alas, tonight I shall be a commoner.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be more discriminating.

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Something I’m Real Shitty at (Blog #931)

Last night I worked backstage at Beautiful: The Carole King Musical until 2:30 in the morning. Guess who didn’t feel beautiful by the time it was over? That’s right, this guy. And probably everyone else who was there too. Yesterday morning we started load-in at 7:45 and didn’t finish until 4:15. Well, what went up in over six hours (we had a lunch break) came down in four or five. You should have seen it. As soon as the show ended, everyone started moving, packing up props, stashing away hair, makeup, and costumes, and taking down lights, backdrops, and speakers (they seriously bring all their own stuff). Slowly but surely, everything that was taken off the four semi-trailers was put back on, except perhaps several pieces of gaffer tape still stuck to the stage floor.

By the time I got home, it was three in the morning. I promptly crashed. And whereas I woke up at ten, I went back to sleep until noon (just in time for breakfast). I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for over two weeks now, and I thought, My body could the rest. That being said, I haven’t exactly taken today easy. After breakfast I ran to Fort Smith for a quick meeting and what I thought would be a short handyman project. Alas, it turned into a long handyman project and ended up taking most the early evening, until I had a dance lesson. Granted, I slowed down after my lesson, but I also frittered away a lot of time scrolling through my phone, which means it’s now past eleven and I’m still up writing.

My writing late at night isn’t unusual, of course. But today I’ve been thinking about something my therapist said recently–“Marcus, you’re real shitty at listening to your body when it needs a break. You’re real good at doing plenty of things, but you’re real shitty at that.”

I didn’t disagree with her.

This conversation started because of my recent and longterm struggle with sinus infections. I told my therapist, “I have a lot of goals, writing and personal projects. Recently I started dieting and getting back to the gym, and then this crud happened. So I don’t know if I’m supposed to slow down or push myself.” Well, my therapist did NOT recommend pushing myself. “Your body IS talking to you,” she said.

“Well, I know that,” I said. “I just don’t like what’s it saying.”

“Like, take a nap?” she offered.

“Yeah, like that.”

I’m going to try to do better about this. Normally when I see a free moment or day on my horizon, I fill it up. Or allow it to be filled up. But after I get through the next couple of days, my schedule looks free, and I intend to keep it that way. I plan to lie around the house, watch television. In a word, rest. Even if this doesn’t heal me, it can only help me. Like most Americans, I’m hung up on being productive, but my therapist says some of the healthiest countries in the world are the least productive by our standards. “They work an average of four hours a day,” she says. “What do you think about that?”

This concept, of course, is tough for me to wrap my mind around. I know I don’t have a regular nine to five, but I’m so used to being busy, go-go-going even when my body doesn’t feel like it. Because I think I should. Because I think I have to. Because–quite honestly–I’m in the habit of doing so. But I am determined to (gently) slow down. I’m determined to listen to my body, even if means working less, even if it means lying in bed for a week, a month, or more. I’m convinced–like packing a semi-trailer, healing takes time. It can’t–and won’t–be rushed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds. A dove appears--the storm is over.

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Beautiful (Blog #930)

5:30 AM

I wake up, even though my alarm isn’t set to go off until 6:45.

6:45 AM

After lying awake for over an hour, I finally roll out of bed, ready to face the day. Having been sick with a sinus infection for over two weeks, I do a quick assessment of things once I’m vertical. I decide I’m still sick, but things could be a lot worse (a lot worse), especially considering I have to work all day. Last night I prayed for a miracle. Maybe I got a small one. As if there is such a thing.

7:45 AM

I arrive at the Alma Performing Arts Center, ready to be a backstage bitch (local help) for the national tour of Beautiful: The Carole King Musical. Before getting out of the car I have a pep talk with myself. Be ready for anything, Marcus. Try to be helpful. Try to be kind. Above all, be yourself.

12:30 PM

For the last few hours me and dozens of other people have been unloading the semi-trailers, rolling carts and containers every which way through the theater. Some people are assigned to electrical, some to sound. I’m on props, which as far as I can tell is a catch-all group. We lay the Marley on the floor, unpack a grand piano. At 12:30 on the dot we break for lunch (it’s a union thing). I eat a pita bread sandwich, some gluten-free chips, and a date. This is the first date I’ve had in months (ha).

1:25 PM

I have a coughing fit.

1:30 PM

We go back to work.

4:15 PM

Most everyone, including me, is cut for the afternoon. Some of us have to return at 6:15 to work the show. The rest, including me, don’t HAVE to be back until after the show, about 9:30. And whereas I was initially disappointed about not working the full day (because it means less money and less experience), I’m delighted about it now. For one thing, I get to watch the show for free. (Have I mentioned I love a good musical?) For another, not working gives me an opportunity to blog and to rest. And since I have been asking Jesus for over a week now to help me physically get through today, well, far be it from me to NOT see this as an answer to prayer.

Thanks, J.

5:00 PM

I eat supper (my second meal of the day) at home and continue blogging (I started earlier on lunch break). Currently it’s 5:28, and I’m in bed horizontal. I’d really like to get a nap in, since most likely we’ll be packing up the trucks until two in the morning (phew). I keep thinking about how amazing this process is. Four semi-trailers full of costumes, wigs, props, lights, curtains–everything you need for a full-fledged Broadway musical–get unloaded, unpacked, and set up. Then there’s the show. Then everything is torn down, packed back up, and reloaded. All in the same day! As someone who doesn’t typically play well with others (I like to be in charge), it amazes me what a group of dedicated, talented people can accomplish working together.

Talk about beautiful.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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In this moment, we are all okay.

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Moment by Moment (Blog #929)

Well crap, I’m still sick. I promise one day I’ll get better and talk about something else. But when you’re sick, it consumes your thoughts. At least it does mine. Mostly I’ve been concerned about tomorrow because I’m supposed to work all day. Like from the buttcrack of dawn until after midnight. And whereas I’m not concerned about the work itself, I am concerned about being able to be fully present. I want to do a good job. I want to have a fun day. I want to feel good.

Dear lord, I’m ready for a miracle.

Alas, what I want and what the lord wants are often two different things. (Ain’t that the truth, Ruth?) I wanted to wake up feeling better today, but I didn’t. That being said, once I got up and around, things went all right. This afternoon my mom and I went grocery shopping, then I went to see my chiropractor, then I bought a pair of tennis shoes. Then I came home, ate dinner (thanks, Mom and Dad), did laundry, and packed a healthy lunch and snacks for tomorrow. That is one “good” thing about being sick–I’m all the more conscious about what I eat. Granted, my eating well never dramatically improvs my sinus infections, but it does help me feel better in general.

At this point, I’ll take what I can get.

Whenever someone faces a chronic problem, I think they inevitably have to wrestle with worthiness. What I mean is that I think we often settle for whatever shitty thing is happening in our lives because we don’t believe we are worthy of better–better health, better finances, better relationships. We grow up being asked, “Who do you think you are?” like all we deserve is what’s left over, which–let’s face it–is usually crap. But I like Oprah’s answer to that question–“I’m a child of God.” I don’t think that means we should all be millionaires, but I do think it means we should raise our standards.

There’s this funny thing about taking what you can get. On the one hand, acceptance is a thing. That is, if you’re sick or broke or in a terrible relationship, you have to accept it first. In terms of my present condition, it’s my job to make peace with the fact that sinus infections are my longterm and current struggle. No amount of whining will change this. But just because you accept something doesn’t mean you have to accept it forever. Said another say, it doesn’t mean you can’t hope for and work toward something better. I know that daily I’m racking my brain in order to find an answer to these infections. I’m approaching them physically, spiritually, and emotionally. Because I do think I’m worthy of feeling good on a daily basis.

Even if they don’t go away, these infections have become my teacher. For one thing, I’ve learned a lot about my body, a lot about healing. For another, I’ve learned a lot about patience, about being in the moment. For example, when I’m sick, the worst parts of my day are normally when I go to bed and when I first wake up. That’s when I hack and cough up all sorts of colorful junk. Historically, I’ve let that colorful junk set the tone for my day. If the junk is gross, for the rest of the day I constantly remind myself how sick I am. But the truth is the majority of my day is bearable. I cough a little. I’m a little low on energy. It’s not awful in reality, just in my head.

As I’m thinking about it now, I’m reminded that–somehow–I’ve made it through the last two weeks. I’ve gotten up, gone to work, run errands, whatever. I’ve made tomorrow out to be a big damn deal because it’s a longer day than normal, but I’ll make it–I know I will–the same way I’ve made it the last two weeks. The same way we all get through life. Day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s never too late to be your own friend.

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Around the Bend (Blog #928)

Well crap. This almost never happens. I have writer’s block. For the last thirty minutes I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. Twice I’ve written half a paragraph then deleted it. Nothing that’s happened today seems interesting enough to share. I went to Lowe’s to have three keys made. Then because they could only make two of them, I went to Walmart to have one key made. Then I got stuck in traffic at a railroad crossing. For five minutes I watched the longest train in the world choo-choo on by. The whole time I wondered which car would be the last. If only the cars were numbered in reverse order, I thought. Then you would know–fifty-two cars cars to go, seven more cars til the end.

I guess waiting’s easier when you know how long you have to do it. Maybe that’s why restaurants tell you, “It’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes before we can seat you.” It’s about expectations. If that vibrating coaster they hand you goes off any sooner, you feel like you’ve won the lottery. Any later and you are p-i-s-s-e-d, pissed.

Two weeks ago today I came down with a sinus infection. And whereas I had a pretty good attitude about it for a week, ever since it’s really gotten on my nerves and caused me to worry. A week, that’s about how long I like waiting–to get well, to get over a boy, to get into my smallest pair of pants. Of course, these things usually require more time. Not to mention hard work. This is something I’ve learned over and over again the last few years. Anything worth having–a healthy body, a healthy mind, a healthy waistline–is worth working for and waiting for.

In terms of my sinus infection, I do think it’s better today. This afternoon and evening I taught three dance lessons and never once felt drained or miserable. Granted, I’m still coughing and somewhat lethargic, but I can just tell things are on the mend. Sure, I could wake up sick tomorrow, but with any luck at all, this will NOT turn into another three-month-long ordeal like the one I had two years ago. That’s the main thing I’m wanting to avoid–being sick indefinitely. Not knowing how long I’ll have to wait to feel like a human again. Two weeks? I can handle two weeks.

Hell, I can handle more if I have to.

The truth is none of us know how long we’ll have to wait–to heal, to feel human again, to die. Our days are like railroad cars whooshing by. Until we live them, we don’t know what they contain or which one will be our last. When we’re hurting we can hope that the end of our particular suffering is coming soon, but who can say until–one day–our suffering stops. The last car passes. Then there’s room for something else to come along. A new train. Perhaps a better one. More and more I believe that no one waits in vain, that patience is a gift we give ourselves, and that good things are around the bend.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes you have to give up wanting something before you can have it.

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You Don’t Have to Be Perfect (Blog #927)

Two weeks ago tomorrow I came down with a sinus infection. And whereas I’ve been trying all my tricks to get it to go away, it hasn’t. This morning the junk I coughed up was as colorful as ever, worse than the last few days. And whereas being sick is frustrating, I’ve realized the worst part about being sick is not the actual sickness, but rather my fear associated with it. For example, today I lay in bed and watched Season 2 of Pose, and this wasn’t difficult at all. What was difficult was imaging how awful the rest of the week will be if I don’t get better. I kept thinking, On Wednesday I have to work from sunrise until (probably) after midnight, and it’s just going to be hell. Never mind the fact that I COULD get better before then.

It’s funny how we sell ourselves on the worst possible scenario. As I’ve been struggling with this sinus infection for the last two weeks, I’ve all but convinced myself it’s going to turn into another three-month-long deal like the one I had almost two years ago. Thus all my horrible what-if scenarios. But hell, what if I am sick on Wednesday? I’ve worked all day with a sinus infection–and a fever!–before. It’s not something I want to repeat, of course, but it is something I know I can survive (because I have). The truth is we can survive almost anything if we simply take it one moment at a time.

I’ve realized lately just how much I tell myself I’m special–but not in a good way. What I mean is that whenever I get ANOTHER sinus infection–or chronic body oder or upset stomach–I tell myself that I’m the exception to the rule, that everyone else can heal but I can’t, that my body is an unsolvable mystery. But the truth is this thinking is a bunch of bullshit. I’m not THAT special. As Caroline Myss says, “Healing isn’t personal.” It’s something that’s available–at least possible–for everyone. If other people can find answers, I can find answers. You can find answers.

Forcing myself to hope rather than despair, this morning I went back to the website where I originally learned about the probiotic that has–up until this point–been so helpful for my sinuses. For over an hour I read about the author’s experience overcoming chronic sinusitis, as well as the questions asked and comments made by people just like me. First of all, I was reminded that I’m not alone; a lot of people struggle with their sinuses (or SOMETHING). No one gets through life without challenges. Second of all, I was reminded that “less is more.”

When trying to treat my sinus infection, my approach, however, has been “more is better.” That is, two or three times a day I’ve tried two or three different probiotics. But the website said this may be overkill. “Try one thing once or twice a day and see what happens,” it said. “It’s all self-experimentation.” So that’s what I did this morning–I tried one thing, one time. And whereas I can’t say for sure, I do think I’ve felt better as the day has gone on. I have more energy. I’m less overwhelmed. I’m not coughing as much.

Naturally, I hope things are on the mend. I’ll know more tomorrow. But even if I wake up hacking and coughing again, I’m convinced you don’t have to use a sledgehammer where a regular hammer will do. Four weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating only between noon and 8 PM) and eating mostly paleo, and although I’ve been a hard ass about it, I haven’t been a complete hard ass about it; I haven’t been a perfectionist. Yesterday I ate a full breakfast at 9 AM and didn’t stop eating until 9 PM. For the last three weeks I’ve eaten a fair amount of cheddar cheese (which isn’t paleo at all). But get this shit–this morning I weighed in and found out I’ve lost 9.8 pounds in the last 27 days. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. (I can’t tell you how thrilled the elastic in my underwear is.) But my point is that it’s possible to see results with smaller, consistently taken actions. You don’t have to go all-or-nothing. You don’t have to be perfect to heal.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Patting yourself on the back is better than beating yourself over the head.

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Time to Slow Down (Blog #926)

Last night I went dancing in Tulsa. And whereas it wasn’t my best night–I felt crummy, and my dancing was rough–it was good to get out of the house, move a little, and see friends. One friend I was not happy to see was Old Man Winter, who apparently showed up uninvited while the rest of us were dancing. When I left the dance, my car said it was forty-six degrees outside. I can’t tell you how unimpressed I was. But what can you do?

You can put on a coat.

Today, like every other day for the last week, I woke up hacking and coughing. Again, I was unimpressed. Despite my best efforts, this junk is not getting better. At the same time, it’s not getting worse. My energy level is a consistent “blah to medium well,” and I’m able to get around. I keep terrifying myself thinking I’ll have a three-month-long sinus infection like I did over a year ago, but I also keep reminding myself that I made it once before and can make it again if I have to. It’s how I feel about winter. Somehow I will survive.

Me and Gloria Gaynor.

I’m always amazed at how life continues even when you’re sick. No matter how bad things are, you can almost always manage to get yourself dressed, talk to the people you love, go to the bathroom. Maybe not in that order. This morning I met my aunt, my cousins, and their significant others for breakfast. And whereas I was subdued, it was delightful. Much better than staying in bed blowing my nose. Along those lines–everyone, I’m sorry for that one time I coughed on the table. I couldn’t help it.

After breakfast my aunt and I visited back at her house, then I hit the road. Well, first I stopped for more probiotics to hopefully help my sinus junk. Honestly, I’m about to get tired of trying things, but my experience has taught me that this crud doesn’t go away on its own. Of course, I’m open to being surprised. If anyone with any authority is listening, I’m down for a miracle.

One of the things my aunt and I discussed was the ways therapy and daily blogging have benefitted me for the better. And whereas I could go on and on (and often do) about how much my life has been positively transformed by both of these things, suffice it to say that–in a nutshell, I’m kinder to myself. What I mean is that when I got that mother of a sinus infection over a year ago, on some level, I blamed myself. I thought I should be able to fix it, if I were good enough, smart enough. Thankfully, this time around, a lot of that is gone. Is it gone completely? Of course not. Old patterns die hard. But consistent self-reflection and self-soothing does make a difference. This evening I’ve been tired, overwhelmed, and irritated, and I don’t blame myself for any of that. My body is sick. It can’t help it. The air is getting colder. It’s time to slow down.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Things are only important because we think they are.

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