These Hundreds of Thousands of Words (Blog #1094)

Leave a comment

Phew. All day I’ve been tired, sad. And whereas I could blame lack of sleep and a number of other things, the fact is I’ve already begun to grieve the loss of this blog. Including tonight, I only have three more posts to go. I don’t know. It’s weird. Just like when a person dies you go through all those stages–denial, anger, grief, acceptance, bargaining–I’m going through those with this. Denial because, has it really been three years? Anger because of what hasn’t happened, hopes and expectations that haven’t been met. Ugh. All the feelings. The good news being that, so much more than three years ago, I’m open to all the feelings and what they have to teach me. Sweetheart, letting go is never easy.

At times throughout this process I’ve imagined that I’d, I guess, somehow be perfectly healed, or just perfect, on the other side of this thing. And that one of my final posts would be like, here’s how I did it. And how you can too for three easy payments of $127. Alas, if anyone ever pitches you such a deal, run don’t walk away. Because the fact is that no matter what a person learns, they are always and forever still growing. Still a work in progress. As much as people like me may hate it, there is no perfect to get to. If it does exist, perfection is like the casserole I made for dinner tonight. A little bit of everything. One big delicious mess.

With cheese.

This being said, I would like to take this blog as an opportunity to “sum up” what I’ve learned or how I’ve grown as a direct result of this project. My idea being that, although I despise numbered lists and bulleted sub-headings, I’ll go through my blog “categories” one by one and write a few sentences or paragraphs about each one. As these categories became self-evident early on and new ones haven’t been added in maybe a year and a half, I’ve come to see them as themes, or what this time in my life has been all about. The lessons I’ve been learning and doing my best to embody.

So here we go. I’m just going to shoot from the hip. And I’ll try to be brief. (Yeah right, Marcus.)

1. Abundance

Ugh. Does this have to be the first one? This has been a toughy for me, since, as a result of my traumas, I grew up believing that if you love something, just wait, it’ll be taken away from you. And yet my therapist, who has a real hard on for abundance, has shoved it down my throat. Yes, things leave, but other things come around. Thankfully, I have made progress. For one thing, money isn’t terrifying to me anymore. Even though I don’t have much of it. Although now I imagine if I did I wouldn’t be scared of it. It’s just paper. The most important thing being, however, that I really do believe deep down that I’ve been given an abundance of talent, love, help, knowledge, wisdom, and resources (both internal and external) with which to make my way through life. Creatively, I’ve been given an abundance of ideas. This is what counts. I know it’s rough when your bank account is strapped, but don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

2. Affirmations

A lot of self-help books are huge on affirmations, looking in the mirror and saying, “I’m beautiful, rich, and forgiving.” Or whatever. And whereas I’ve tried this shit more times than I care to admit, it hasn’t been what’s worked for me. Instead, the affirmations that have turned my life around, rather than being forced into me, have come out of me. That’s what this blog has been about. Sweetheart, be patient. I’m here for you. So if you like the idea of affirmations, go for it. But don’t open a book to find them. Open your heart.

3. Archetypes and Personalities

More and more I see the world through the lenses of “we’re all different” and “we’re all the same.” And whereas I don’t subscribe to one particular personality system, it’s helped me to be able to label people with archetypes (diva, drama queen, addict, pimp), since it allows me to get impersonal about their behavior. Or even mine. (Of course I’m worried about my outfit; I’m an artist!) Additionally, the more personality systems I study, the more I realize that every archetype and personality type is not only neutral (although it can be animated positively or negatively), but also necessary. God knows we don’t need everyone to an anal-retentive control freak. But God also knows the world would be a much sloppier place without those of us who are. (Wash your damn hands.)

4. Authenticity

This is a buzz word these days, and one my therapist actually dislikes because it’s so “hip.” To me it equates to being honest, even and especially if that honesty looks like anger, sadness, or confusion. You know, the emotions we hide behind our masks. Alas, it doesn’t seem to be something we can achieve every minute of every day (certain niceties are required in a polite society), but it is something we can strive toward. Being real. Being ourselves. My only other thought about it is that I’ve often been as surprised as anyone else when I’ve been able to be assertive or–here’s another word my therapist hates–vulnerable. Like when I cry in public or admit my faults (which, I agree with my therapist, isn’t being vulnerable, it’s being honest). Meaning we often don’t know what our authentic selves look like until they reveal themselves to us.

5. Balance

Is required and looks different for everyone. How do you know you’re out of balance in any area of your life? Your body will tell you. Learn to listen to its subtle and not-so-subtle messages. Additionally, pay attention to your relationships. If they’re full of drama, contention, or anything but an underlying peace, something is out of whack. Chances are you’ll never be able to hold the center point forever, so just keep your eyes on the middle. The rest will take care of itself.

6. Boundaries

My therapist calls boundaries the Holy Grail of personal growth. And whereas I used to think I had them, I realized I didn’t. Pro tip: if you can’t say no or if you tell the most personal details of your life to complete strangers (or vice versa), you don’t either. So get some. Learn to not only say no, but hell no. Figure out what you’re worth and don’t settle for less. Get in touch with your soul, do whatever it says, and never, under any circumstances, sell it. For one thing, it’s not yours to sell. For another, you’ll always regret it. How do you do these things? By learning to say no, hell no. And don’t worry if you “mess up.” Life will, without a doubt, give you another opportunity to excel. As with all things, having good boundaries is a process.

7. Coco’s Favorites

These blogs are my personal favorites. Many are already tagged as such, but I’ll be adding others as I work my way through reading all my old posts.

8. Creativity

People say they’re not creative, but I’m convinced we all are, even if it’s just in the way we make up a story about how we’re not creative, or what someone did that ruined our lives, or how awful things are (when they’re really not). Of course, creativity is better expressed through writing, dancing, knitting, planting, decorating, or whatever, and I’m certain our souls MUST, somehow, expand themselves through creating. So first stop and notice WHAT you’re creating (dinner, drama, dissent), then think about what you’d LIKE to be creating (an encouraging environment, a business, a hilarious blog). Then CHOOSE something different.

9. Dancing

Is good for a hundred reasons. Do it. Even if you don’t like it, consider that you were made to move. Some way, somehow. Your very heart BEATS. Tune into the rhythm of your life. If you ARE willing to give dancing a try, remember what my mentor Maggie tells her students. “Let dancing love you.” If not dancing, then let something, someone. Please, open your heart.

10. Dream Interpretation

I wish I were a master at this or had some of the experiences the people who write all those books about dreams do. Lucid dreaming, predicting the future, and whatnot. I don’t know, my therapist says I have the “most auspicious dreams,” so maybe it’s just easy to think someone else’s life is better or more fabulous than yours. Regardless, I do believe our subconscious/inner wisdom speaks to us a thousand different ways. Through dreams, synchronicities, hunches, bodily sensations, feelings, emotions, and even thoughts. So it’s whatever floats your boat, whatever you’re willing to listen to. Just know that it’s not all as random as it seems. Know that you can trust yourself. You’re wiser than you realize.

11. Emotions

Are not something you primarily think about. They’re something you primarily feel. Also, I hate to break it to you, they’re not something that go away when you shove them down. Like, they just hang out in the shadows. In your shadow. And whereas I wish I had a surefire way for coaxing them out, I’ve learned they come up when they’re ready. The best thing we can do is to listen. Be curious. Love, or at least make space for, whatever arises. Including frustration, anger, grief, sadness, and anything else that gives you snot bubbles. Because that’s your inner wisdom talking. For example, anger often means “get some damn boundaries.” (See above.)

12. Encouragement

Whatever you’re going through, I promise you’re not alone. Yes, your situation is unique to you and is your cross to bear, but it’s not the first time it’s ever happened. In Alcoholics Anonymous they say, “You’re only as sick as you are isolated.” Meaning that a burden is automatically lifted when you stop trying to carry it yourself. So please know that people love you and are rooting for you. Granted, they don’t always know what to say, but I guarantee there are people who would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. People who will cry at your funeral and feel that something important, something they liked, is missing from their lives when you’re gone.

13. Facebook Live

This is where I’ve put the few live videos I’ve done and where I’ve read, out loud, other stories I’ve written. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll do at least one more when this is over.

14. Gratitude

Is often something those self-help books try to force. Don’t worry, be happy. Alas, I’ve found that gratitude, like an affirmation, works best when it springs naturally from the heart. A humbling voice, it says, “Sweetheart, you have everything you could ever need and more.” What’s more, I’m convinced this voice is always there, available even when we are most down. It says, “Life sucks, but we’ve been given this breath, and with this breath we will make it to our next. Or make it home.” So again, listen to your heart. (Not your head.)

15. Growing Up

Involves letting go of the need to blame, being your own parent most of the time, taking responsibility for your life and choices, and sucks. But is absolutely necessary. Also, it’s natural. Stop fighting it.

16. Hope

As stated in The Shawshank Redemption, “is a good thing, maybe the best of things.” So please, please, please allow as much room as is humanly or even divinely possible that even your most challenging circumstance can turn around for the better. On a dime if heaven so sees fit. Along these lines, pray for miracles and expect them to show up.

17. Improv Comedy

Is worth trying or at least taking note of. Because, like life, it requires that you think on your feet, play well with others, and not look back. Audiences may not be forgiving, but improv teaches you to be. So what if the show didn’t go well? It’s over. (Everything in your life is over.) Why is this a good thing? Because now we can play another game.

18. Letting Go

Is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. Because we like what we like and we want it last. Our relationships, our stuff, our identities, our stories and judgments about ourselves and others. Our blogs. But nothing lasts. We don’t get to keep a thing. So work on enjoying whatever it is while it’s here, then letting it go. The way the sun sets, the way a storm ceases. With grace.

19. Myths and Fairy Tales

Aren’t just cute little stories. Rather, within them are embedded the mysteries of life, our personalities, and our struggles. Best thing I ever heard on this topic was that your three favorite movies reveal the path your life is on, and I believe this more and more. Recently through EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) I realized one of my favorite movie characters (for almost twenty years now) was not only hung up on integrity (like I am) but was also embarrassed by his station in life (like I used to be). The idea being that you’re drawn to these characters and their stories for a reason. Your inner wisdom is nudging you forward, giving you a template for what’s possible. Be willing to take the trip.

20. Patience

Is almost harder than letting go. But is one of the most useful traits you could ever hope to develop. Because although the universe is capable of turning on a dime, it rarely does. What’s more, it rarely does what you want it to, when you want it to. Pro tip: the less you insist on having everything your way, the more patient you’ll be. So, in the words of Nancy Byrd Turner, “learn to labor and to wait.” Give yourself the gift of time. To grow. To heal. Nature does not proceed in leaps, and neither do we.

21. Perspective

If I could give everyone one gift, it would be the gift of perspective, the gift of being able to perceive whatever it is thats bothering you (including yourself) in a different way. Alas, since I can’t, go see a therapist. This is what they get paid for. But seriously, what if you could put on a pair of mystical glasses that allowed you to see everything in your life, even the rotten stuff, as heaven’s gift to you? What if you could turn your viewpoint upside down and really see that there’s nothing in your life by accident and that–if it’s there–it’s there for a reason? To challenge you, to grow you, to change you, and maybe even the world, for the better? What if you could look at the mountain you’re facing and, rather than asking God to remove it, absolutely know you were meant to climb it? And then put your boots on. This is my encouragement. Pick up a book, go to church, or bang your head against the wall, not until your circumstances shift, but until your perspective does. Because that’s when you will.

22. Relationships

Seems to be the medium through which everything happens. The bullshit, the learning, and the healing. So look alive. Like or not, no one is alone. We’re all in this together.

23. Self-Acceptance

Means coming to love yourself warts and all, not putting up such a damn front, and being gentle with yourself and others. It means accepting every part of you–even the ugly, angry, and sad parts. The weird thing? The more you accept yourself exactly as you are, the more you accept others and the world exactly as they are. And vice versa. This is why Jesus said don’t judge. Because that which you hold against someone else, sooner or later, you’ll hold against yourself. But as you accept That Which Is Unacceptable in yourself or another, That Which Is Unacceptable becomes your teacher. All parts come bearing gifts. Hold out your hands.

24. Spiritual Practice

Looks different for everyone but is something I’m convinced we all long for and participate in somehow. Maybe one person does it in the kitchen, the way they lovingly prepare the perfect meal to feed their family. Maybe another does it in a chapel. I grew up as a Christian. Last night I prayed the rosary. Now I don’t know what to call myself. More and more, the labels are unimportant. It’s the experience I’m after, the inner knowing that I’m part of something bigger than myself. The conviction that every time I take a breath, God breathes with me. I’m after what the mystics know, the truth that every life, every rock, and every molecule is both sacred and holy.

25. The Physical Body

This could be an entire series of posts. And has been. Suffice it to say that every experience we have on this planet is granted to us through our physical organism. And whereas my personal temptation has been to ignore my body’s signals (information, guidance, wisdom) or be mad it at for hurting or being sick (not good enough), I’ve learned that it is the master and I am its pupil. I am in its classroom, and I must play by its rules. So more and more I’m learning to love, honor, and take care of my body, this gift I’ve been given. Granted, it’s easy to compare yourself to others and find fault with your body, but then you miss The Mystery. Then you miss the wonder that is you.

26. Therapy and Healing

Is actually a thing. And whereas I could go on and on about different therapies and modalities I’ve tried and succeeded with, really, it all started the day I picked up the phone and called my therapist. One little choice that was really a big choice. “I think I need help,” I said. Thankfully, my therapist was a good fit for me, and her office became a safe place, a sacred place, where I could begin to put myself back together. And whereas I’ve done a lot of work on my own, I think this is a huge part of the process. Having a witness. Not someone that does the work for you, but someone who sees you and believes in you. Maybe more than you do. Someone who is willing to stick with you through it all. Another big part being what my therapist told me that first session. “For this hour we’re going to do two things: sit in truth and not judge ourselves.” So whatever path you choose, I suggest taking these two gems with you. The truth (it will set you free) and non-judgment. I promise, you’ll get further faster if you do.

27. Transformation

Is not only possible, but necessary. Just like a caterpillar can’t stay a caterpillar forever, we as humans can’t stay our old selves forever. Indeed, we’ve been designed to grow, change, transform, evolve. To forget that which is behind and press forward toward the mark. To be burned in the ashes and rise again. To die on the cross and ascend three days (or three years) later. This is written in our stories, and this is written in our cells. So just find a way to accept it. Then get on with the process. Set your foot upon The Path. Entertain the idea that you are more (insert positive adjective here) than you ever thought possible.

28. Travel Writing

Hasn’t been a huge part of my journey or this blog but is still worth mentioning. One lesson from traveling being that, just like that, the universe can take you on a trip, put someone on your path, or put you on someone else’s. Just like that, you can be in a whole new world. With a whole new perspective. JRR Tolkein said, “Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or secret gate.” Believe in this magic. Trust that as one journey ends, another is beginning.

29. Writing

Isn’t for everyone, but is for everyone. At least, words are for everyone. Personally, these words, these hundreds of thousands of words, have changed my life. Once a writer friend pointed out that I was literally writing into existence the life I wanted to live. Sweetheart, hang on for one more day. Things will get better. Lately I’ve been hashtagging all my posts #healing. And whereas I’ve thought of these statements and labels as simply my way of hoping or just description, well, in the beginning was the word. Seriously. Think of the world you create when you say something is “possible” versus the world you create when you say something is “impossible.” Notice how your thoughts, feelings, emotions, attitude, and actions change depending on which world you decide to inhabit. Crazy, I know. And that’s just one little word. Now, have the words I’ve written these last three years MADE my life change? I could never prove that. But my life has changed, and surely it’s at least partly due to the fact that at some point I started telling myself a different story. A story I wanted to hear. One of healing, forgiveness, self-acceptance, hope, transformation, and transcendence. A story in which I was the hero and there was a happy ending.

And surely anyone can do this.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"We were made to love without conditions. That's the packaging we were sent with."

On Dancing and Personalities (Blog #1066)

Leave a comment

Currently it’s six in the evening and I’m in Springfield, Missouri, above the Savoy Ballroom. In an hour–I don’t know–a hundred people will be downstairs, dressed in rolled-up jeans and poodle skirts, ready for tonight’s sock hop. In two hours, after a swing dance lesson, the hop will officially begin. At some point, my friend Matt and I will perform a routine to “Good Golly Miss Molly” with our friends Anne and Andy, the studio owners, and six other couples. Matt and I just learned the routine last night. Just before I sat down to blog, we practiced again. Thankfully, everything is starting to make sense.

Late last night and earlier today I went down the rabbit hole of learning about different personalities, according to a system (Human Design) I was introduced to a few days ago thanks to what I believe was fate. You know, that happy little thing that’s beyond our control and places us in the right place at the right time. And whereas I’m a total newbie about all this, the system makes sense to me. The main thing I like about it being that it doesn’t try to squeeze everyone into the same box. Rather, in very clear terms, it espouses the idea that we’re all made beautifully and uniquely different, and for good reasons. What I bring to the table isn’t what you bring to the table.

And we need both things.

Now, I’m not going to try to take my extremely limited understanding of Human Design and explain the whole system. But perhaps by sharing a few things that have resonated with me, I can offer to you what’s been offered to me, the peace of mind that comes through self-acceptance. Like, here’s something. For decades I’ve told people that I’m not spontaneous, that my idea of being spontaneous is to write on my calendar, “Do something unplanned this Saturday at three o’clock.” Well, I’ve given myself a lot of crap for this. I’ve looked at people who fly by the seat of their pants and been jealous. I’ve thought, I wish I could do that. God, Marcus, why can’t you lighten the fuck up and STOP planning? But according my specific Human Design profile, I haven’t been created to function that way. Indeed, the affirmation it offers to my type is, “I am not here to be spontaneous. I am here to be deliberate.”

Deliberate. It’s amazing what freedom you can find in a single word. YES, I am NOT here to be spontaneous. That’s for someone else. Go, live by your fancy. As for me, I’m a planner, an on-purpose-er.

I am here to be deliberate.

I can’t tell you how much I identify with this word. Likewise, I identify with the concept of “just doing it,” of having a thought and making something happen. But apparently only nine percent of the world’s population are like me. The others, the majority, prefer to be invited to do something, rather than initiating it (a conversation, a business, a lifestyle change). I don’t know their official profile, but I’ve always said that one of my friends will NEVER mow their lawn on their own, certainly never PLAN to mow their lawn on their own. But if you (spontaneously) say, “Hey, wanna mow your lawn today?” they’ll be right there WITH YOU. Anyway, that’s what I’m seeing. That I’m a loner, but some people absolutely are not. I’m a planner, but some people are anything but.

And we need both things.

Along these lines, apparently I have my willpower center defined, meaning that I have willpower that’s self-generated and self-sustaining (just do it). For years I’ve looked at people I love and even total strangers in judgment. Like, why can’t you get motivated? And yet anywhere from two-thirds to seven-eights(!) of the population have willpower centers that are undefined. They REQUIRE the motivation of others to get them going. And not that they can’t get things done (in fact, they can get things done REALLY WELL); their actions just aren’t self-initiated. And whereas this may sound like, Oh crap, I don’t have much willpower (you know, it’s all the rage right now), that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Everything has its ups and downs. For example, the trade-off I make for being able to initiate things and having a lot of willpower is that it’s easy for me to burn out. Because I don’t come with an endless supply of energy, the way many people who don’t have as much willpower do.

What I’m seeing more and more clearly is that, well, both things are needed. All personality types are good and necessary. For balance. For harmony. For clarity. It’s not just my way or the highway. It’s our way or no way at all. We need each other to survive. No one can dance alone.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

We always have more support than we realize.

"

Unbound (Blog #821)

Leave a comment

Currently it’s almost midnight, and I’m just sitting down to write. Where has the day gone? Of course, I know. Last night I was up until four, so I slept in this morning. This afternoon I drove out-of-town to teach a two-hour dance lesson, and this evening I ran errands and helped my aunt assemble some new lamps she recently bought. Then I came home and surfed the internet to wind down. Now here I am, typing, trying to focus but mostly distracted by the fact that I’m tired and feel a little gross. I hope I’m not coming down with something.

I hope I can stop worrying about it.

For the last several weeks I’ve been attending a short-story writing class taught by my friend Marla. The idea behind the class is that we the students will produce a fully fleshed-out short story (of about 1,500 words) by the end of the class, this coming Tuesday. That’s three days from now. And whereas I’ve STARTED a short story and have about 400 words, I’m at a loss for where to go next. For the last four nights (including tonight), I’ve told myself I’d sit down and work on “that thing,” and yet it hasn’t happened. Instead, life has happened. There have been lawns to mow, lessons to teach, books to read, blogs to write, and interwebs to surf.

Ugh, this has caused a lot of internal tension. I keep thinking I’ve GOT to finish that story, that I’ve GOT to have something to read this Tuesday, and that it’s GOT to be good. Great even. And yet I haven’t made writing–or at least trying to write–that story a priority. Consequently, this has become a reason for me to–metaphorically speaking–kick myself in my own shins. Geez, Marcus, would you stop being so lazy? What’s wrong with you? Way to let everybody down.

Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Last night I started reading a book by David Spangler called Everyday Miracles: The Inner Art of Manifestation. I’ve read a lot of books along these lines, and, so far, this one is the best. At least it makes the most sense to me. The author says he’s always had difficulties with traditional approaches to manifestation like positive thinking, affirmations, and rote visualization, and that’s been my experience too. Anyway, I’m only about halfway through the book, but one of the things it suggests when you’re wanting something in your life to change is to 1) get in touch with your current essence and 2) get in touch with the essence of that which you desire. For example, because I get a lot of tension headaches, I’d like to manifest a life without tension headaches. (Is that so much to ask?) So when I did the “essence” exercises last night, my current essence felt like “tension,” and my desired essence felt like “freedom.”

As I’ve thought about this today, I’ve realized that more than feeling tension in my head, I feel constriction. Like things are clamped down, not as open as they could be. Also, I’ve realized that I feel constriction in almost every area of my life–in my finances (scarcity), in my body (in my head, neck, shoulders, and hips), and in my relationships (because, until recently, I’ve so often bitten my tongue or hidden who I really am). In this sense, the headaches I experience are a mirror for how I really feel deep down–bound up. This is what it feels like when I’m afraid of being sick or afraid of not producing a short story or anything else in my life, like I’m–um–frozen.

Stuck.

I’m working on this. Physically, I’m doing all that I know how to do–exercising, stretching, myofascial release. In terms of the pressure I put on myself to be healthy or “get shit done,” I’m trying to listen to my body. For example, when I finish blogging, I’m going to bed. Rather than force myself to stay up and try to write or do other work, I’m giving myself a pass. Hell, Marla told me that if I don’t finish my story, “that’s okay.” There you have it, permission from the teacher to not be perfect. Ugh. Trying to be perfect. Again, that feels like constriction. But permission to not be perfect, that feels like freedom. Going easier on myself, that feels like freedom. This is something I’m learning, that freedom, more than anything else, is a state of mind, a place you visit inside yourself where you can let go–let go of all constrictions and self-imposed expectations and be yourself, unbound.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

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

"

 

On Being in Control (Blog #778)

Leave a comment

It’s five in the evening. Just a bit ago I taught a dance lesson to a couple who are preparing for their wedding. Now I’m reclining outside where I’m house sitting, soaking up the sun. The dog I’m taking care of, who really is adorable, is across the yard, chewing on a giant stick. Just before I came outside, she was barking, barking, barking to come inside and–after I let her in–barking, barking, barking to go outside. Two nights ago my friend Megan couldn’t decide what she wanted to eat at Subway.

Decisions are hard.

Today’s dance lesson was number four for the couple, and we talked about and worked on transitions. Their basic moves are coming along fine–it’s usually not a big deal for couples to learn the basics–but their transitions need work. When going from one move to another, they slow down. They get off beat. (I know, I said get off.) I’m the same way when I learn something new–awkward. If my left leg is used to going forward, but now I need it to go back, that requires effort. Until it doesn’t, of course. That’s the point–at some point, your transitions become quick and seamless. You think, Step back, and your body simply does it without lallygagging or putting up a fuss.

My friend Shauna says that the difference between a professional dance and an amateur dancer is that the professional dancer is able to control all parts of their body simultaneously. Conversely, an amateur dancer can only command so much of their physical body at once. For example, the guy I worked with today could take a step back on his own, but when he danced with his fiance AND tried to take a step back AND send his arms slightly forward at the same time, his step back became exaggerated. As a result, his butt shot back, his head dipped forward, and his posture went from being upright (and correct) to slouched (and weird). I wouldn’t expect it to be any different. Beginners can usually only control one thing at a time.

If that much.

Earlier today I read an affirmation/meditation by Stephan Hoeller that I can’t get off my mind. It said, “If it is the will of my Father to strike down everything I have built in my life, may He do so and do it swiftly. I shall be free of attachment to anything or anyone.” Wow. Talk about a tall order. I shall be free of attachment to anything or anyone. I can’t even begin to list the things and people I’m attached to, the circumstances I THINK or BELIEVE should turn out a certain way. I want THIS to happen. I want THAT to happen. This is normal, I imagine, but the problem with attachments is that they’re directly tied to our experience of peace. For instance, earlier when the dog was barking, barking, barking, I ever-so-briefly got irritated. Make up your mind, honey! Not because the dog was doing anything other than being a dog, but because I was ATTACHED to a certain thought–The dog shouldn’t be barking–that was in direct opposition to reality.

This is an extremely small example–I could go on about being attached to people, relationships, or physical objects–but the point remains. Whenever I want one thing to happen and something else does, I sacrifice my inner peace. If just for a moment when the dog was going nuts, I was thrown off My Center. I went nuts. (The joke in my family is that “it’s a short trip.”) Byron Katie says if the dog’s barking and I think it shouldn’t, “I’m insane.” Not permanently, but in that moment. Why is it insane to think the dog shouldn’t bark? Because IT IS barking. And dogs bark. Just like cats meow (and throw up on your floor), the wind blows (and tornadoes tear your house apart), and bodies get sick (and die). This is reality. These things happen on planet earth.

As I understand it, just like you can practice dancing to the point that you can control all parts of your body at once, you can also work with your mind in such a way to control it too. That is, we think that thoughts are these things that just pop into our heads and we can’t do anything about them. And whereas that’s somewhat true, it’s also true that simply because a thought pops into your head–The dog shouldn’t be barking–that doesn’t mean you have to get carried away by it. This is one of the ideas behind meditation, that you can train your mind to focus on whatever you want it to and that–after enough practice–it will without lallygagging or putting up a fuss. Then if an old resentment comes knocking at your door you can say, “Sorry, not today,” and your mind will think about–I don’t know–chocolate cake. Something that makes you happy. Something that doesn’t steal your peace.

This is the hardest thing you’ll ever learn to do. I certainly don’t have it down. At the same time, I’m working on it. More and more, I think, What’s my peace worth? Am I really willing to let–you name it–a barking dog, a boy, a disappointment, a sinus infection, or my financial status move me off My Center? This, of course, means working on controlling my mind and not letting it be swept away by every damn thing. It means commanding my spirit, saying, “Hey, come back here.” This is The Hard Work. It’s what Jesus was so good at. The guards came to take him away, and Peter got “taken away” by his anger. He cut off a dude’s ear! But not Jesus. He wouldn’t let himself “be moved.” His peace was more important to him than that. Even when they hung him on a cross, he refused to let the outer world change his inner one. This is why he said, “Father, forgive them.” Not to convince God, but to convince himself, to convince his spirit to stay Centered rather than think thoughts like, I shouldn’t be hanging on a cross, or hate others, or chase resentments. Sorry, not today. Talk about a man free of attachment to anything or anyone, even his own life. (Talk about a man free.) Talk about being in control.

They didn’t call him Master for nothing.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

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

"

On Learning a New Language (Blog #680)

Leave a comment

Here’s something fun. Sitting or standing up, flex all your toes into the floor. Then try to lift only your big toe(s), but leave the other 4 (or 8) on the ground. Do this several times. Big toe up, big toe down. Then reverse the process. Keep your big toe(s) on the ground, but lift the others. Go ahead, try it.

See if you don’t cuss.

I got this exercise from Kate Galliett and The Unbreakable Body, an online coaching program I signed up for years ago and recently rediscovered. The exercise is meant to rebuild and/or strengthen the arches in your feet, which, by the way, you apparently have three of on each foot, not just one. For me, the exercise is difficult, especially the second part, especially with my left foot. My toes shake and quiver and won’t do what my brain tells them to. (My nephews don’t obey me either.) And whereas that’s frustrating as hell, it motivates me to keep trying.

With my toes and my nephews.

Kate says that if you were going to learn a new language you’d learn a little at a time and it would be awkward at first, and it’s the same with your body. If you want to learn a new movement, or even teach your tense muscles how to relax, it’s going to take time. But positive changes can occur. You just have to slowly teach your body the language you want it to learn. Relax, be strong, be mobile, whatever.

Lift your damn toes in the air.

This idea of language has been on my mind today. This afternoon I finished reading a book by Joseph Murphy about your subconscious mind and positive self-talk. I have an off-and-on relationship with these types of books, the kind that tell you to affirm the things in your life that you want to see increase or grow. Sometimes I think they’re fabulous. Sometimes I think they’re crap. Still, I can’t deny there’s an inner monologue going on in my brain virtually all day long, and it makes sense to me for that monologue to be positive (God, you’re a handsome devil, Mr. Coker) rather than negative (I’m so disgusting, I’m going to eat a worm). I mean, if I have a choice in what I think (and why wouldn’t I, it’s my brain), I might as well choose thoughts that feel good rather than thoughts that feel bad.

Along these lines, the book said one positive affirmation is, “I am the only thinker in my universe. No one call tell me what to think about (blank).” I really like this. Recently someone gave me crap about my long hair. I was not amused by this. (My therapist says it’s not appropriate for one adult to tell another adult how to live their life. I agree.) I bring it up because even if the entire fucking world told me they didn’t like my hair, I am the only thinker in my universe. No one call tell me what to think about any part of my body. Likewise, even if someone has done me wrong (ripped my heart out and stomped that sucker flat), I don’t have to think bad thoughts about them. Indeed, I can wish them well if I want to, if for no other reason than letting go of a grudge feels better than holding on to one.

I am the only thinker in my universe.

Granted, it’s not easy to turn your thoughts around, just like it’s not easy to control your awkward toes (if you toes are anything like mine, that is). It’s not easy to learn a new language. Most of today I’ve felt nervous and fearful. Not because anything bad is looming on the horizon, but I do have a few tasks and appointments coming up this next week that I’m not looking forward to. Hell, I didn’t want to write tonight’s blog. Even now I’d rather be watching a movie and zoning out. My point being that along with my feeling nervous and fearful, I’ve had nervous and fearful thoughts (duh). What if I do something wrong? What if they don’t like me? What if I’m not good enough? And whereas I wish I could immediately banish these thoughts and feelings, I can’t.

Learning a new language is hard.

Still, I am determined to learn–determined to learn how to lift up my little toes while my big toe stays on the ground, determined to learn how to think about the world differently. Everything’s going to be okay. People like me (and if they don’t, fuck them). I’m good enough. And I’m finding there’s a lot of relief in just starting. That is, even though I can’t lift my toes quite right, I’ve started to learn, so the process isn’t as intimidating as it was before. Even though my self-talk has a long way to go, I’m at least aware of what’s going on “up there.” They’re just thoughts, and thoughts are changeable. Nothing is set in stone.

More and more, I’m learning to not come at myself with a sledgehammer. My dad’s been going with me to work out at night, and tonight he said, “I’m trying to add one or two new exercises each time we go.” How perfect is that? A month ago when I started going to the gym to rehab my leg, I wasn’t even breaking a sweat. But, like my dad, I’ve been adding in exercises one at time, and now I leave the gym glistening. (My next goal: leaving with a wet t-shirt.) So both at the gym and at home, I’m trying to add in good habits, add in good thoughts. I keep telling myself, Sweetheart, be patient. We’re learning a new language.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

Your story isn’t about your physical challenges.

"

On Humble Beginnings (Blog #634)

1 Comment

It’s an hour before midnight on Christmas Eve, and I’ve spent most the day cuddled up in my favorite chair, reading. For me, today has been like most any other, since our family stopped celebrating Christmas over twenty years ago. It’s a long story. Part of me wishes I could go back and rewrite it, since I think traditions are important and my thinking around this particular tradition has changed a lot. But, of course, it’s hard to wind back the clock. Plus, once you’ve lost the magic of something, it’s difficult to regain it.

But not impossible, perhaps.

Really, I’m fine with this. Sure, when I see pictures of others celebrating with friends and loved ones and opening presents, a part of me misses that. But I’ve been with my family all day long, and I haven’t had to spend a dime on presents. Which is good, since I don’t have a dime. But I do miss the sparkle around the season. I used to adore decorating the tree and putting up lights on the outside of the house. Really, looking back at how I’d climb on the roof and meticulously unscrew and re-screw every bulb until they were perfectly arranged–green, red, green, red–someone should have told me a long time ago that I was a homosexual. Anyway, the last few years I’ve made an effort to participate and celebrate, if only a little. This year I helped a friend decorate the outside of their house. I was in a holiday variety show.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

I think one of the hardest things to do is accept your life both as it is and how it’s been. Especially in today’s world of social media, it’s so easy to compare yourself to others. Just scroll through your phone for a minute–one minute!–and you can see everything you’re not in terms of looks, friends, prestige, and holiday celebrations. But to really sit with your story, with all your humble beginnings, this is a tough thing to do. My mom’s been depressed since I was a child. Our home burned down when I was four. My dad went to prison. As if this weren’t enough to make us different, we stopped celebrating Christmas, and (years later) I came out of the closet.

This evening my sister, her husband, and their boys went to a friend’s house for dinner. A friend of theirs and their family ended up being there–because their home burned down tonight. The family was okay, but their pets died. This went on while my parents and I went out to eat at Chili’s and I shoved down a plateful of fajitas, two beers, and a chocolate molten lava cake. Granted, it wasn’t extravagant in terms of “what’s expected,” but we were together. Anyway, this is the world we live in. The worst things happen alongside the best things.

Back home from dinner, I returned to my reading chair. After my sister and her crew got home, my older nephew, who spends most his time in his own world and really isn’t into socializing, crawled up in my chair and read his comic book alongside me. Didn’t say a word. Just snuggled up between one armrest and me and turned his pages. It was the sweetest thing; I wouldn’t trade the thirty minutes he sat there for the world. Who’s to say if this would have happened in a living room full of packages? I mean, I’ve seen my nephew around presents.

It wouldn’t have happened.

Yesterday my friend Bonnie gave me a pack of positive affirmation cards called AFFIRMATORS!, and they’re my new favorite thing. There are over fifty cards in the pack, and the idea is that you shuffle them “like a three year-old” and pull one out at random. Well, get this shit. Three times today (out of four) I pulled out the same card–Magic. I’m including a picture of it here, but the idea is that life is a great mystery, and we’re surrounded by serendipity and wonderful, inexplicable happenings. Anyway, on a day that used to be filled with magic for me, during a time in my life that’s so difficult, it was the perfect reminder that miracles can occur in the most unlikely of places and circumstances.

Just after I pulled this card for the first time, I got a text message from a friend from high school that I haven’t talked to in–I don’t know–five or ten years. I guess they were last-minute shopping; they wanted to buy some dance lessons. This ended up being the perfect thing. They got a gift to give to someone they care about, and I got some cash (which I really needed). Anyway, I kept hearing my therapist’s voice in my head, since a couple weeks ago, after having injured my knee, I was bemoaning my financial prospects and suggested I could liquidate a few things. “Naw,” my therapist said, “let the universe do something.” And so it did. Talk about a Christmas miracle.

Magic.

In other good news, the skin rash that I’ve had for the last few weeks is finally getting better. Like, not just a little; a lot. I’ll spare you the details, but I figured out the right cream to use on it. Maybe this seems like a small matter, but when life’s knocked you down over and over (and over) again, it’s really delightful to be on the receiving end of a win. And in light of the fact that I’ll be having knee surgery in a day and a half, it’s nice knowing my body isn’t completely falling apart and that something’s on the mend. It’s good to be reminded that with a little persistence (and not a little magic) things can improve.

God’s got a big thing for humble beginnings.

Despite the fact that I’m not currently surrounded by the trappings of Christmas, I keep thinking about the mythological image of Jesus being born in a manger. I love that part of the story, since it reminds me that God’s got a big thing for humble beginnings. Shit, I can only imagine what Joseph and Mary must have felt like that night–worn out, tired, pregnant, no room in the inn. Surely one of them must have thought, God, I could use a break tonight. I could use a little magic here. Personally, I would have been pissed. Especially if I were Mary. I would have been looking everywhere for Gabriel, and when I found him I would have said, “You mean to tell me that first The Divine knocks me up, and now he wants me to deliver his kid in a barn?!” But I’m reminded tonight that The Divine is into this, into stories that don’t make sense from a human perspective, into “what seems small is big.”

With these things in mind, I’m doing my best to honor my story, including my past and present, as it is and not as I wish it were. Because no matter how humble or challenging and no matter how it compares to another’s, this is my life–my one, unique, and precious life. And no matter what, being alive is a gift. No matter how dark the night or bleak the circumstances, if you’re alive, you’re alive, and you’re story’s not over. And who’s to say what The Divine will make of your humble beginnings?

Who’s to say what magic lies ahead?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

No good story ever ends.

"

On Blessing and Cursing (Blog #633)

1 Comment

This afternoon after a family friend heard that I’d severed my ACL while performing a dance stunt, the first words out of their mouth were, “You can’t do what you used to do.” Not words of sympathy or compassion, but rather, “You’re old and brittle.”

My response: “Shut up.”

I’m making a big deal out of this (and you can’t stop me) because I’ve gotten this reaction from quite a number of people. I tell them the facts (I hurt myself), and they go straight for the jugular. “Well, you’re not getting any younger.” First of all, no shit, asshole. NO ONE IS GETTING ANY YOUNGER. NO ONE HAS EVER GOTTEN ANY YOUNGER IN THE HISTORY OF THE ENTIRE WORLD! Second of all, there was an eight-year-old in my surgeon’s office the day that I was there who’d torn his ACL too, so clearly injuring yourself isn’t directly related to age. That is, all of us are human, breakable, and generally (and by that I mean completely) subject to the laws of physics. Young people hurt themselves. Old people hurt themselves. Is age A FACTOR in whether or not a person is likely to hurt themselves? Of course. But so is physical build, experience, and–when dancing–the slickness of one’s shoes and the floor one is dancing on.

Breathe, Marcus.

My main beef here isn’t whether or not anyone thinks I’m old and frail. Fuck that. People can think what they want. My beef is that WORDS MATTER, and the way you talk to yourself and others matters a lot. This afternoon my friend Bonnie gave me a super-cool deck of positive affirmation cards called AFFIRMATORS! that are a fabulous spoof on positive affirmation cards. (They have a picture of a rabbit riding a unicorn on the front.) Still, the ones I’ve read so far communicate excellent points in humorous ways. Anyway, the first card I pulled out of the deck was Positive Thinking. I’m including a picture of it below (credit to: http://knockknockstuff.com), but the basic point is this–your mind is a garden, and the thoughts you water, tend to, and practice will take root, grow, and take over–so make sure they’re good ones.

When I was in college, I attended a leadership conference in Hot Springs, and the speaker told everyone in the audience to stand up, so we did. Then he told everyone to turn around, so we did. Then he told everyone to jump up and down and basically make asses out of ourselves, so we did. Now, why on God’s green earth would we do this? The speaker said it was because of something called The Power of the Podium. That is, as audience members, we assign a certain authority to someone behind a lectern and will therefore do stupid shit they ask us to do. In terms of the leadership conference, the speaker’s point was–if you’re given the chance to speak to others, make sure your message has a meaning and that you’re not wasting everyone’s damn time.

My point is that you don’t have to be standing in front of an auditorium in order for people to be paying attention to you. Indeed, if your mouth is moving, chances are pretty good that someone is listening to you. And the question I’m proposing is, “What would happen if the person you’re speaking to actually believed you?” Specifically, what if I believed the person this afternoon who was arguing for my limitations rather than my abilities? What if I spent the next year watering the thought, I can’t do what I used to do, versus, My body is strong and capable of great things. Because they could have just as easily said that. They could have said, “This may slow you down for a while, but I trust you’ll be back in the saddle in no time.”

During medieval times, if someone wanted to bless someone, this is how they’d do it. With their words. They’d say, “May the sun rise up to meet you. May your children’s children be healthy and prosperous. May your wife’s breasts be larger than your bank account.” Whatever. Conversely, if someone wanted to curse someone else, they’d say, “A pox upon your house. May a fever seize you. May all your descendants be hanged.” Maybe this sounds silly, but the idea is that the human mind has a tendency to ruminate on and “make true” those thoughts that are planted in it, especially those thoughts that are charged with emotion (like excitement or fear). In this manner, any blessing or curse can easily become a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Granted, in today’s society, we often don’t think of ourselves as blessing or cursing each other, but that doesn’t mean we don’t do it. For example, my therapist is constantly telling me that I’ll be wildly successful as a writer one day. That’s a blessing. On the other hand, once when I told a friend that I wanted to be a writer, they glibly referred to my dream and the reason I feel like I’ve been put on this earth as “a hobby.” Their implication was clear: “You can’t make a legitimate living at this.” That’s a curse. Subtle, perhaps, but a curse nonetheless.

I suppose a lot could be said about why we humans drag each other down. My friend Justin says that if you’ve settled for less in your life, you’ll rarely celebrate someone else who’s reaching for more. Misery loves company or whatever. Personally, I think that we can’t truly empower someone else until we have first empowered ourselves, and that’s a tough thing to do. Still, telling someone, “You’re old and feeble,” “Things will never get better,” or, “That’ll never happen” is shitty any way you slice it. Who died and made you God? What else can you tell me while your crystal ball is out? This is a large and marvelous universe. How do YOU KNOW what will happen?

The human spirit is capable of overcoming the greatest of obstacles.

Regardless of how much I rant, I know I can’t control what comes out of another person’s mouth. I’m realizing, however, that I can control what I listen to, put up with, and let take hold in the garden of my mind. More than hoping to change anyone else’s opinion about anything, that’s what I’m wanting to do here–get rid of the weeds that have been long-planted in my consciousness. Because yes, I’m thirty-eight, but thirty-eight is not old, at least not old as in, “It’s time to trade in your dancing shoes for a stamp collection.” Old as in, “There are hairs growing out of my ears,” sure. But if you’re here to tell me that simply because I’m thirty-eight and had a rough year that things are downhill from here, I’m here to tell you to kindly fuck off. People of all ages have rough years, and the human spirit is capable of overcoming the greatest of obstacles. So this is my blessing to myself and everyone else who will take it in; this is the thought-seed I’m hoping to water, tend to, and practice–

Your spirit is ageless, your body is stronger than you know, and your fate is to rise again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

No good story ever ends.

"

Thoughts Can Be Changed (Blog #607)

Leave a comment

It’s just before eleven in the evening, and my parents’ house smells like potpourri because my dad just farted and sprayed something to cover it up. I’m not sure which smells worse–the fart or the spray. Last night a dog–either my parents’ or my aunt’s–shit on my futon, where I usually blog. I was having a bad day and had just dragged my laptop and pillows into the futon room to start writing, and there it was. It’s like the dog knew exactly where I prefer to sit and thought, Yep, this is the place. Fuck him. But that’s the deal when you’re having a bad day. Everything that goes wrong feels personal. As if the universe were a bully that not only wants your lunch money, but also is willing to hand deliver offensive smells and shitty situations to your doorstep if you don’t pay up.

Anyway.

The bad mood I had yesterday is better, although it’s lingered. Mostly, I’m tired and am looking forward to seeing my doctor in a couple weeks. It’s not that I’m sick-sick, I just don’t have a lot of pep in my step. Some days I drag ass from start to finish, and other days I feel super. But even then, I wear out easier than normal. By normal I mean before I got sick so bad a year ago. Shit, nothing’s been normal since then, and I guess that’s my frustration. I keep wanting to be on the other side of that entire ordeal, but–apparently–I’m not. It’s this weird thing, when you know you’re out of the woods, but you haven’t quite left its shadows.

I spent this afternoon working on my photo organizing project. I’m almost done. It’s strange, looking back at all those old photos. I know I had things I worried about back then, but they weren’t the same things I worry about now–my health, my finances. It’s like these concerns just show up one day, and then–bam–you’re stuck with them. But I really don’t believe it has to be that way. Earlier tonight I watched a positive thinking thing and was reminded that limiting beliefs like This will never get better or That might work for other people, but it won’t work for me are just thoughts, and thoughts CAN be changed.

I really have been working on this lately, acknowledging the fact that I have a lot of negative or limiting thoughts running around in my head and trying to do something about them. But usually when I try to “say affirmations” or “think the opposite,” it feels like I’m blowing a lot of smoke up my own ass. Saying everything is fine when it isn’t feels like–hum–spraying potpourri over a fart. So my approach recently has been to be gentler. That is, instead of saying everything is fine, I’ve simply been trying to relax more, to softly make room–even a little room–for something different or better to come along.

Often on this path of self-growth and healing, it feels as if I “should” be better at this positive thinking thing. I think, Why is abundance (in all its many forms) still such a hang-up for me? Well, it just is. For me, the idea of scarcity was planted a long time ago and has been practiced A LOT. But I’m telling myself that’s okay because in any moment, I can start over. In any moment, I can take a deep breath, think a new thought, and try again. This, I think, is one of life’s greatest graces, that we can turn our lives around gently and a little at a time, that we try, try again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Miracles happen."

On Being a Broken Record (On Being a Broken Record) (Blog #91)

Leave a comment

This afternoon I swam laps. Mostly I kept getting pissed off that my new goggles were leaking, but I managed to swim thirteen hundred meters, which is three hundred more than a few days ago. As I was getting ready to leave, in the locker room, there was a kid running around, maybe waiting on his friends. I’m guessing he was about seven, but hell, he could have been twelve or thirteen. I mean, everyone’s getting Botox these days, and it’s really hard to guess someone’s age. Anyway, this kid kept singing, “Singing in the shower,” a line from a song by Becky G. Just that one line, stuck on repeat. Over and over again.

Singing in the shower.

Singing in the shower.

Singing in the shower.

I wanted to scream. Geez, kid, learn the rest of the freaking song!

This morning when I woke up I felt skinnier. I’m guessing you know how it goes when you’re on a diet, exercising. You get up one day, and things feel a little tighter, a little lighter. Maybe the scale doesn’t agree with your assessment, but you know–something’s different. Well, the first thing I thought was, There you are, Peter, which is actually a line from the movie Hook starring Robin Williams and references Peter Pan, and not my personal Peter–thank you very much. Anyway, in the movie, Peter Pan has grown up, and he returns to Neverland a middle-aged, overweight lawyer. Of course, none of the Lost Boys recognize him, until one day when one of the boys takes off Peter’s glasses, looks deep into his eyes and says, “Oh, there you are, Peter.”

So I guess it’s a good thing that the line popped into my head this morning. Eating better, exercising, and down several pounds, I’m starting to feel like my physical self again. Also, I feel like I should mention–my armpits don’t smell like bleach anymore. (This is something I blogged about several times over the course of many weeks, some funky body odor that showed up and wouldn’t go away.) The problem has been better for a week or so, but I’ve been cautious to “speak too soon.” But for whatever reason–better diet, Gold Bond Powder, Holy Water–it seems I’ve been healed. Thank you, Jesus. I smell like myself again.

There you are, Marcus.

This evening my friend Marla and I attended a book signing for our friend Anita Paddock at Chapters on Main (a local bookstore) in Van Buren. (Anita’s second book, Closing Time, was recently released.) I told Marla that when our house burned down when I was four, my parents gave our kitchen cabinets and some bathroom fixtures to a family friend who, at the time, lived and worked in the building where Chapters is now. The cool part? The cabinets are still in use, in the coffee shop section of the bookstore. Even better, the baristas handwrite fun and encouraging notes on every cup of coffee. Pictured above, my cup tonight said, “Love Yourself.” I joked with Marla, “Not a problem!”

Tonight I went for a walk, something a friend recently referred to as a “midnight ramble.” On my way back, several blocks from home, I patted my stomach and actually said out loud, “There you are, Peter.” Of course, even though it was after midnight, there were two ladies sitting on a front porch right beside me. Geez. Of all things to say when talking to yourself. There you are, Peter.

Since I got home tonight, I’ve been thinking that I’m a lot like that kid at the pool this afternoon. I’ve got this phrase on repeat. There you are, Peter. Singing in the shower. Whatever. Once I heard the mind referred to as “an idiot box,” meaning that it just repeats itself over and over again. I guess it’s harmless, albeit annoying, when it happens with a song lyric or a movie quote. But of course, it can happen with anything, so a little phrase like–I’m just gonna shoot from the hip here–“you’re fat” or “you’ll never get a date as long as your armpits smell like cleaning chemicals,” can do a lot of damage when it goes on–and on–and on.

There’s a technique my therapist talks about called Broken Record. It’s basically used to enforce a boundary with someone you care about who simply isn’t “getting it.” You boil your boundary down to a one-liner and keep repeating it. I won’t talk to you when you raise your voice. And no matter what they say–ifs, ands, or buts–if they scream or yell, your answer is (calmly) always the same. I won’t talk to you when you raise your voice. And if you have to–I’m leaving/hanging up now.

We teach people how to treat us.

I think the idea behind Broken Record is twofold. First, we teach people how to treat us, what’s acceptable and what’s not. Second, people learn by repetition, and it can take a while to re-train someone, to let them know your rules of engagement have changed–for real this time.

Sometimes my therapist and I talk about positive affirmations, which are pretty big in the self-help/new age world. If you don’t know, positive affirmations are simply positive statements you write down or say to yourself that you want to be true in your life. For example (as mentioned in a previous post), I, Marcus, and a brilliant and prolific writer. Or as my coffee cup suggested tonight, I love myself. So you just say that over and over again, letting it sink into your subconscious, which apparently is a slow learner. In essence, you have to Broken Record–yourself.

Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with positive affirmations. Sometimes I think they’re wonderful, and sometimes I think they’re a bunch of shit. But as evidenced by the phrase I’ve had on repeat today–There you are, Peter–it’s obvious that I’m already talking to myself, my mind already has a record on repeat. So the question is, would I rather be playing the record that says, “I’m fat, I’m fat, I’m fat,” or the one that says, “My God! I’m stunning, I’m stunning, I’m stunning”?

I vote for “I’m stunning.”

The way I see it, everything you tell yourself is an affirmation. It’s just that somethings are a hell of a lot more positive than others. And if you’ve been telling yourself one thing–something negative–most of your life, it’s going to take a minute to turn that truck around.

Sometimes I marvel at people like Anita who actually get a book written. It seems like such a daunting task. But just like this blog, it’s simply a matter of sitting down and writing like a broken record–over and over again. At first it’s just a word, a sentence, a paragraph. And then before you know it, it’s a thousand words. Two months later, it’s a book. Honestly, I wish it were easier. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and have a six-pack. (I mean, I could have a six-pack of beer tomorrow, but not a six-pack OF ABS.) And I wish I could write a book in a day, and learn the Argentine Tango in a day, and learn everything I’ve learned in therapy in three years–in a day.

But that’s simply not the way it works. Rather, it’s like swimming, one action on repeat. (Hopefully with a decent set of goggles.) It’s a balanced meal, a good habit, lots of positive self-talk–done over and over (and over) again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

Your life is a mystery. But you can relax. It’s not your job to solve it.

"