These Hundreds of Thousands of Words (Blog #1094)

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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)

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Every stress and trauma in your life is written somewhere in your body.

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Together (Blog #1080)

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Doing my small part to #flattenthecurve and slow the spread of COVID-19, I stayed home today, as I plan to do tomorrow and for the foreseeable future, with a few exceptions (therapy appointments, etc.). This morning I slept in then gradually got going with some do-it-yourself myofascial release exercises. Then I ate breakfast and spent the entire afternoon reading. First I finished a book about continuous bilateral stimulation (The Art of BART: Bilateral Affective Reprocessing of Thoughts as a Dynamic Model for Psychotherapy by Arthur G. O’Malley), the technique my EMDR therapist uses during my EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) treatments, although he uses a different protocol than the author of the book does. (There’s more than one way to skin a cat.) Then I read a book (God-Man: The Word Made Flesh by George W. Carey) about how, at least according to the author, the stories in the Bible are actually allegories meant to explain the inner workings of the human body and, among other things, its endocrine and nervous systems.

Then my eyeballs fell out of my head.

This evening I finally finished a 1,000-piece puzzle I’ve been now-and-then working on for months. I can’t tell you how good this feels. Especially since the last puzzle I finished was missing a piece. (We can’t all be perfect.) Anyway, I plan to bask in the glory of this finished project before jumping right into another. Hell, maybe I’ll even have this one framed, you know, once I feel comfortable letting someone else touch my things with their bare hands.

Along these lines, in a lecture I listened to while working on the puzzle, Caroline Myss says that although it’s the physical nature of viruses to spread organically, it’s the energetic nature of epidemic viruses to spread among those who are most tribally, rather than individually, oriented. “There’s a physical weakness, and there’s a vibrational weakness,” she says. “Both are true.” What I personally find interesting about this statement, and about COVID-19 in general, is that an epidemic forces us to become more individually oriented because it strongly encourages us to set boundaries (as in, don’t shake my hand, or, as Sting said, don’t stand so close to me) and take care of ourselves (hands off, that’s MY toilet paper).

Alas, this is often the case, that we have to either get scared, sick, cheated on, or walked all over before we stand up for ourselves. All too often, we need an excuse (or we think we do), something others will understand, in order for us to set a boundary. I used to have a student that liked to hug people without their permission. And whereas I didn’t always mind being hugged by this person, there were plenty of times I did mind and let them do it anyway. If the old me were here today, he would say, “I would, but, you know, Corona,” the whole time thinking, Thank God. I can finally be left alone. Thankfully, now I don’t need an excuse. If I really don’t want to touch someone or let them touch me, I don’t. It’s that simple. Explanations be damned.

Although sometimes I do say, “I’d rather not.”

And whereas for years I thought it would be terrible–the worst thing ever–to stand up for myself and set boundaries with people, it hasn’t been. Granted, at times it’s taken a lot of courage and therapeutic support, but the world has yet to stop spinning. Granted, people have gotten upset and even cried (what can I say, I’m a heartbreaker), but, for the most part, the boundaries I’ve set have been–accepted. Once I quit a job and thought the person was going to get ever so mad, but they said, “Okay.” Now, did it sort of suck to find out that I was that-fast replaceable? Sure. But it felt even better to walk away from shit-paying work and have all kinds of time back to myself.

As this daily writing project is getting close to “the end,” one thing I’d like to make clear is exactly what I’ve done to grow as a person, improve my relationships, and heal. Not that I consider myself or any these things “complete,” but I do consider that I’ve come a long way over the last several years. And sometimes when I look at people who have improved their lives, I get the feeling that they’re leaving something out. Or at least making a long, difficult journey sound easy. Like, you can do it too in 8 easy steps! Hell, in an afternoon. This is why I’ve said repeatedly that The Path takes time and patience. It takes commitment. YOU take commitment (and you’re are worth it, by golly). This is also why I’ve done my best to share the specific titles of books I read, the teachers I listen to, and the therapies I try (the ones I both fail and succeed with). Not because I think the formula I’ve used will work for everyone, but because I want everyone to understand that 1) you have to work things out for yourself and 2) sometimes you’ve gotta kiss a lot frogs before you find a prince.

And then again, sometimes you don’t.

This being said, I will always and forever promote 1) remaining curious and hopeful, 2) educating yourself, 3) setting boundaries and being your own best advocate, 4) having both a personal and professional support network, 4) learning to trust yourself and your intuition, 5) having a spiritual practice, and 6) working with body-based practices and therapies (as opposed to cognitive-only ones) in order to heal. Having tried a hundred things, lately I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of upper cervical care, myofascial release, and EMDR. (I could talk your ear off about any of these things if you’d let me.) I DID NOT get a lot of mileage out of iridology, although that post is consistently one of my most read. But I do believe there’s more than one way to skin a cat, and if another approach or combination of approaches works for you, fabulous. Truly, I’d love to hear about what you’ve tried and what’s worked and what hasn’t. (Drop me a line.) THIS is one of the benefits to breaking away from the tribe and individuating. Afterwards, you can COME BACK to the tribe and share what you’ve learned. Then we can all grow and be stronger, together.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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In other words, there's always SOMETHING else to improve or work on. Therefore, striving for perfection is not only frustrating, it's also technically impossible.

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On Creation (Blog #1069)

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This morning I woke up at 4:30 to work backstage for the national tour of Trolls Live! in Fort Smith. Until 7:45 this evening. And whereas it was fun and absolutely magical, Daddy is worn the eff out. Seriously, I’ve said many times before that I’m not cut out for manual labor, and even the personality test I took recently agreed. You’re not meant for nine to five work, it said. So it’s good that tomorrow is the last day working the production. That’s the deal. Today they set up and did one show, then tomorrow they’ll do two shows, pack up, and hit the road.

And I’ll hit the hay.

Today they asked that we not take or post any pictures from backstage (that’s called a boundary), but, y’all, the sets, props, and costumes were stunning. Giant flowers, fluffy grass, velvet curtains, feather boas galore. And everything in every color. No kidding, it was like a box of crayons exploded. And whereas I spent most the day with my mouth open feeling like I was in the middle a cartoon (hello, childhood memories!), for many of the the cast and crew (who have been on the road with this show since October), it seemed to be just another day at work. Ho-hum. This reminded me that we can be surrounded by beauty and mystery and totally lose touch with it. We can look at a sunrise or a loved one and think, Oh, yeah, that old thing. I guess it’s all right.

I don’t recommend this.

Joseph Campbell says you can draw a circle around anything and say, “What is it?” The idea being that everything–without exception–is a mystery. Sometime try this with your hand. Just hold it out and stare at it, without thinking, It’s a hand or It’s an old, wrinkly hand. Just stare at it and see if you’re not struck with wonder. That it’s alive and that it can move. That it exists.

That you exist.

From what I understand, we lose the wonder of things when we label them. Either as objects or adjectives. That is, as soon as you say, “It’s a hand” or “He’s a jerk,” you move away from The Mystery. Of course, we’re all doing this all the time. We make a million assumptions each and every day about what things are. And yet the truth is–and I know this is mind twister–you only think it’s a hand because someone told you it was. (And what if they were wrong?) You only think he’s a jerk because you told he was. (And what if you were wrong?)

Byron Katie says, “Who created the world? You did.” Now, does this mean the person you see in the mirror every day waved a magic wand and made something appear out of nothing? No. At the same time, yes. What I mean is that when you open your eyes every day, the world is there. The Mystery is there. The one in the mirror doesn’t create that. But the one in the mirror does create your experience of the world. By naming it, by labeling it, whatever you want–good or bad, too hot or too cold, terrifying or peaceful, ho-hum or magical.

I suggest magical.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Storms don’t define us, they refine us.

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Written in the Stars (Blog #999)

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Today’s blog is #999 in a row, and I can’t tell you how excited I am about it. For one thing, I’m one post away from 1,000. (Two including this one.) For another, it’s Christmas Eve. For another, my favorite number is 9, so this blog seems–I don’t know–sacred or something. Maybe I should call it The Holy Trinity of Nines. Regardless, although it’s just one in the grand scheme of things, it feels special.

Okay, hang on, I know what it is.

999 days ago I started this project, and at some point decided I wanted to write for at least a thousand consecutive days. (Later I upped the goal to every day for three years, which is an additional three months, but I’m considering anything after tomorrow “a bonus post.”) Anyway, for 999 days in a row I’ve written. Even when I’ve been dog tired, sick with a sinus infection, miserable with a headache, or burning up with the flu. Even on the day I was in a car accident. Even after I tore my ACL. My point being that–to be clear–there have been hundreds of days I didn’t WANT to blog or spill my guts on the internet. Hundreds of days I didn’t know if I had it in me. Because God knows I’ve set goals before and didn’t stick with them. Yes, I know what I’m feeling.

I’m feeling like–WOW–I’m going to make it.

Earlier today I heard Caroline Myss say that if you want to heal or improve your life in some way, JUST DO SOMETHING CONSISTENTLY. It doesn’t have to be complicated, she said. Stop wearing your least favorite color–forever. Go for a fifteen minute walk–every day. Her point being that any action consistently taken (read: any discipline) will force you to confront not only your saboteur, but also every other part of you that doesn’t want to heal, grow up, and change. Like your inner child (who will throw tantrums), your perfectionist (who will insist whatever you’re doing isn’t good enough), and your control freak (who will want to manage how others perceive you and your project), to name a few.

Notice that addictions, which are also consistent actions and address our inner need for congruency, likewise address these points. However, they do so unconsciously, not consciously.

In my experience with this blog, this wisdom about consistency is spot on. Indeed, many of the categories or themes that have developed here, I believe, are ones that any person undertaking a regular discipline will encounter. Things like balance, boundaries, patience, self-acceptance, and transformation. Take balance and boundaries, for example. Earlier tonight some friends had me over for dinner and invited me to stay late to watch a movie while they stuffed stockings for their kiddos. And whereas I would have loved to have lingered and continued to stuff my face with Fritos and cheese dip, I knew I had this blog to tend to.

So I said, “Thank you, but I can’t.”

This is what I’d recommend to anyone working on a goal–make no exceptions. Now, I’m not talking about your typical goals. I want to lose fifteen pounds or whatever. Especially if all you want to do is stop eating cheesecake. In that case, have a cheat day. But if the real point of your goal is deal with your crap, get in touch with your soul and spirit, and find out what you’re really made of, THEN I suggest making no exceptions. Then I suggest being an absolute hard ass with yourself.

If you do decide to be a hard ass with yourself–about anything–my guess is you’ll uncover a part of yourself you didn’t know was there before. Personally, blogging every day, every damn day has taught me that not only am I stronger and braver than I realized, but I’m also more honest and open-hearted than I realized. Since I started this project, a number of people have said, “I could never be that honest, especially on the internet.” Even my therapist has said, “You’ve clearly got really big balls.” And whereas I don’t know about all that, I do know that if I can be strong and brave and honest and open-hearted, anyone can. Because it’s not THAT hard. Yes, it’s hard. It’s scary and terrifying and exhausting and hard.

But it’s not THAT hard.

What I mean is that it’s not impossible. Whatever it is you’re scared of–and anything you’re scared of counts, even if other people don’t think it’s a big deal–humans have been facing their fears and slaying their dragons for centuries. My point being that you’re not alone. Knowing this–that it’s POSSIBLE to transform yourself for the better through the practice of a consistent discipline–the question becomes, why wouldn’t you? A thousand days ago I would have pulled out my favorite excuses. I can’t. I’m not good enough. I’ll fail. I’ll embarrass myself. Someone else is already doing it better. But having come this far, I now know these are just lies, stories. So if the answer to “Why won’t you do something to improve your life?” is that you simply like the stories you tell yourself about who you are and what you’re not capable of, fine. That in itself is some level of honesty. But don’t expect me to believe your excuses just because you do.

Because I know from experience–all of us are capable of WAY MORE than we think we are.

This is one of the greatest gifts my therapist has given me–she’s staunchly refused to believe my excuses. No matter how many times I’ve campaigned for them, she’s never voted for my limitations. Now, she’s honest. “You’re almost forty,” she says. “I don’t think you should be an Olympic gymnast.” Still, within reason, she’s never stopped rooting for me. With respect to my talents, career, and relationships, she’s always been in my corner. The result being that–between her and this discipline–I’ve gotten back something I didn’t know I’d lost–myself.

Also, I’ve learned how to hope again.

Last year for the Winter Solstice I blogged about how, from the Summer Solstice until the Winter Solstice, the sun rises and sets more and more toward the south in the northern hemisphere. (This is the cause of our progressively shorter days from late June to late December). However, for three days, from December 22 (the typical date of the Winter Solstice) until December 25, the sun appears to stop moving toward the south OR the north. To the ancients, this was terrifying because they thought the sun had died.

Don’t worry. The good news is coming.

On December 24 at midnight (ish)–and you can check this for yourself–you can follow the three stars in Orion’s Belt (sometimes referred to as The Three Kings) to Sirius (the brightest star in the sky), and they’ll point the way the eastern horizon. There you’ll find Virgo, The Virgin. (See above.) Overhead you’ll find The Beehive Cluster (not labeled), sometimes referred to as The Manger. Next to it, Cancer, whose two brightest stars are often called The Two Asses. Six hours later, The Manger and The Two Asses will be on the western horizon, The Virgin will be straight overhead, and the sun will be rising not just on the eastern horizon, but also toward the north. (See below.)

Hooray! The sun didn’t die.

For as long as we can remember, men and women have feared. We’ve watched our days get shorter and shorter and felt our nights get colder and colder. We’ve thought, We can’t do this. We’re not going to make it. Our hope is gone. And yet we’ve consistently persisted. We’ve kept at it, hung on. And time and time again, right out of our darkest night, the light has reappeared. The light reappears. From Christmas until the Summer Solstice, our days get longer and longer, brighter and brighter. This is a universal law. It’s written in the stars. Just when we least expect it, things start to turn around. Life comes flooding back. Letting out a sigh, we think, I’m going make it.

Just like that, our hope is reborn.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Everything is all right and okay.

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Flipping the Script (Blog #954)

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This afternoon and evening I helped a client repair the fence in their backyard. (It was falling over, and their dog was jumping into their neighbor’s yard. Their neighbor didn’t like this.) And whereas the fence mending itself went well, while moving a heavy rock along the fence I smashed my middle finger and ripped my fingernail open. There was blood and everything.

And then I stepped in dog shit.

These things happen.

You know how you can begin a project with a good attitude, with hope in your heart that things will go fabulously, but then you start hurting yourself and stepping in shit (and there’s no one to blame but yourself) and your good attitude goes down the toilet? (I do.) That being said, today as my finger stopped bleeding and throbbing, I worked to regain proper perspective. Your finger will heal, I thought. The dog didn’t purposefully shit where he thought you’d be stepping. He just needed to go. We all need to go now and then.

Just about this time, a mosquito bit me.

Looking toward the heavens I thought, What?! I haven’t had enough for one day?

Since I only had about thirty minutes left on the fence project and hate having bug spray on my skin, I thought about taking my chances. But then I thought about how much mosquitoes love me and how badly my skin reacts to them, so I took a break, walked to my car (right through the dog shit gauntlet), and reached for the bug spray. I’d rather be covered in DEET than itching to death, I thought. For me, using the spray was an act of self-compassion, a way to prevent further suffering. Sometimes this is the best you can do. Earlier I’d put a Bandaid on my bleeding finger. It didn’t change the fact that something shitty had happened, but it did keep things from getting worse, and it did support healing.

Twenty years ago when I was a teenager, I had a family friend who was a mentor of sorts. Our relationship isn’t private, but it would take a while to fully explain, so suffice it to say that this person and I communicated by letters because their personal circumstances didn’t allow for much more. They were in poor health and had limited resources, so I did a lot for them–typed up and made copies of documents, that sort of thing. Looking back, I can see that I didn’t know how to say no. For one thing, they were an adult. I was seventeen. For another, they were offering a lot of “sage” advice about matters I was interested in at the time–the Bible, the government–and it didn’t feel like I could question them. I remember thinking I had to do whatever they said.

For the last twenty years, the letters from this person have remained in a binder untouched. When I went through all my things and had my estate sale three years ago, I thought perhaps I should toss them. But then I thought I should read them first, so I just kept them, imagining one day I would. Well, tonight was the night. I opened the binder and read all twenty-two letters. (Yes, I numbered them.) And whereas most of the contents were benign, some of this person’s statements, quite frankly, were rude and inappropriate.

“You should do as directed.”

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I guess you only write when you want something.”

Followed by, “Send me a copy of such and such.”

The primary emotions I felt tonight were anger (because this person was brash, passive aggressive, and lacked boundaries) and overwhelm (because at the time I didn’t realize they were asking for more than a teenager could give, but I still felt obligated to act as their–unpaid–personal assistant). These are the SAME emotions I felt when I initially received the letters, of course, but I didn’t know how to express myself back then. I didn’t know how to say, “Whoa, Trigger!”

However, I do know. As I was reading the letters, I actually said, “Fuck you!” Now, does this person care? No, they died a long time ago. Besides, it’s not about them. It’s about me, about me finally letting go of an unhealthy relationship and the old emotions associated with it. Along these lines, after I talked to my family about the letters, I burned them. (The letters, not my family.) Every single page. Up in smoke in our backyard.

Sweeping off the ashy patio, I said, “The past is over” then walked back inside.

“The past is over” is a common phrase in the self-help world, but I’d like to be clear. Until I said, “Fuck you” and burned the letters tonight, it wasn’t over for me. Had I not given voice to my previously unacknowledged frustrations or had I held on to something that only upset me to read it, the past would have continued. This is the deal. You don’t just get over something. Despite what Frozen and even I sometimes say, you don’t just let it go. When your finger is smashed, you first have to admit that you’ve been hurt. You can’t just mutter, “Oh, I’m fine” when you’re really not. No matter what you’re feeling, you’ve got to be honest about it. Even if the feeling started twenty years ago. Even if the feeling isn’t “nice.”

Another way I could keep the past alive with respect to this situation would be to bitch and moan about what an awful human this person was, to go around for the rest of my life and say, “Can you believe the way they treated me?!” Now, the truth is this person didn’t treat me terribly. Sure, they were at times abrupt and overbearing, but at times they were quite endearing and kind. As my therapist says, people are complex. Even if they had been all-the-time mean and nasty, I know it wasn’t personal. Dogs shit on the ground because that’s what they do, and people are mean and nasty because–I don’t know–they are. What I do know is that how this person treated me is how they treated everyone (mosquitoes bite me, mosquitoes bite you), so what good would it do for me to complain and play the victim?

That’s right, it wouldn’t.

Life isn’t out to get you.

In the world of speech and debate, which I was involved with in high school and college, there’s something called a turn. A turn is when one side brings out a piece of evidence supporting their argument and–later–the other side shows that the evidence, properly interpreted, ACTUALLY supports THEIR side. The kids these days would call this flipping the script, and it’s what I suggest doing anytime you smash your finger, step in dog shit, get bitten by a mosquito, or unearth something from your past that upsets you. That is, use a difficult situation for your benefit. Rather than playing the victim, play the victor. If it’s a simple injury or irritation, use it as an opportunity to slow down and practice self-care. Remind yourself that life isn’t out to get you. If it’s something more serious and involves another person, consider it a chance to practice emotional expression, boundary setting, and better communication. Even if the person is dead, see that they’ve helped you get clear about something important and that–going forward–you can be that much more clear with yourself and others.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Better that you're true to yourself and the whole world be disappointed than to change who you are and the whole world be satisfied.

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On Others’ Beliefs and Two Left Feet (Blog #951)

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Well hell. My home internet (hotspot) is running slow tonight, and it just took me thirty minutes to get online, download today’s picture, and start a new post. I swear, at some point in my life I must have made the mistake of asking God for patience. First he made me a dance instructor (just imagine teaching an uncoordinated married couple how to samba), and now this. Seriously, if you ever want patience, come try my hotspot on a night like tonight. And no, I didn’t mean for that to sound dirty. Unless, of course, your name is Zac Efron.

Awe, it’s been a while since I’ve made a Zac Efron reference.

Recently I read an article in Psychology Today about boundaries. And whereas it was mostly focused on what we choose to share online, it brought up a good point–if you wouldn’t take out a billboard with whatever you’re saying on it, maybe you shouldn’t put it on Facebook. Because that’s essentially what you’re doing. Telling all your friends, neighbors, and God knows who else–I’m heartbroken, my bowels are WAY off today, Trump can suck an egg. This morning I saw my therapist, and she said, “That’s right. If you wouldn’t print it on a t-shirt and walk down Main Street, don’t say it.”

One idea the article presented was that Facebook and other social media platforms by design create a false sense of intimacy, that it FEELS like we’re sharing the personal details of our lives with a select few, but in fact we’re not. We’re sharing them with EVERYONE. (Don’t tell me you haven’t creeped on a stranger’s feed. Well, someone’s creeped on your feed too.) Another phenomenon that happens online is that whenever you read or watch something, it FEELS like it just happened. People watch dance videos I uploaded to YouTube years ago and respond as if whatever I did just occurred, as if they were right there in the room and I’d asked for their opinion. Don’t wear flip flops when you dance!  Get off your heels! The blonde hair was a mistake!

Of course, few of us would be so bold–so fucking rude, frankly–in person, especially with strangers. But there’s something called cyber courage (cyber rudeness) that makes us lose our boundaries and our manners. It makes us lose our patience with our fellow humans.

Something I’ve been chewing on the last few days is having sympathy and empathy for other people and their experiences. What I mean is that–like we all do–I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about myself, trying to understand me. And whereas this has been extremely helpful, it’s also often left me scratching my head when it comes to others. Part of this head-scratching, I think, is simply a matter of what comes easy to one person doesn’t necessarily come easy to another. This is why teaching dance has been good for me. I pick up on dance things fairly quickly, so any time I run across someone who doesn’t, especially if I’m hungry or in a bad mood, it’s a chance for me to consciously practice patience. A chance for me to take a deep breath and remind myself that this person isn’t tripping over their two left feet IN ORDER to piss me off.

There’s a popular idea that people are doing the best they can in any given moment. I once had a friend who told me some of the most intimate details (traumas) of their life the very first time we ever hung out. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this should have been a red flag–because when you have good boundaries, you reserve the intimate details of your life for those who have earned the right to hear them. My point being that I don’t believe my friend was intentionally having poor boundaries; they simply had never been taught them. My therapist and I talk about this a lot. Most of us (including me and my therapist) didn’t grow up being taught to set limits with ourselves and others, being taught to be direct (and kind) in conversation.

Getting back to the idea of a thing being easy for one person but not for another, I often make the mistake of believing that simply because I’ve learned or have started to learn something, the entire world has. Of course, this isn’t true. Today I told my therapist that I wished people could be more straightforward, and she said, “Marcus, for some people, being straightforward would be as terrifying as you walking out that door, suddenly being in China, and not knowing a lick of Chinese.” This is what I mean about having sympathy and empathy for someone else’s experience. In writing there’s the idea that even if a character isn’t the hero of YOUR story, they’re most certainly the hero of THEIR story. My point being that you may get upset with people in your life for having certain political leanings or–I don’t know–being bad dancers, but for them, their beliefs and two left feet make perfect sense. Absolutely perfect sense. For them, you’re the odd one.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"The truth is right in front of you."

What Do YOU Want to Do? (Blog #942)

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After a full weekend of working and partying (and gaining an pound and a half), today I took a break from working and eating. This is something I’m trying to do, consciously rest and fast one day a week. Last Saturday/Sunday was my first attempt, and I fasted for 23 hours. (It didn’t suck.) So far this time I’m at 26. Unless something drastic happens first, I’ll break the fast at, well, breakfast tomorrow. With any luck at all, I will have erased some of my food sins from this last week and, more importantly, given my body a chance to heal.

In order to not spend the day thinking about food, I’ve spent the day watching movies, first Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindenwald, then Rocketman, the Elton John biopic. Also, I watched the next to last episode of The Deuce, a series my therapist started me on (but not for therapeutic reasons). Anyway, I’ve been hungry and a little lightheaded (please don’t ask me to be articulate), but it hasn’t been awful. One thing I’ve been thinking about is how we make things out to be a big deal in our heads that aren’t a big deal in reality. For example, not eating. I keep thinking, I don’t know if I can make it. But it turns out our bodies were designed to survive–for a while–without food. I mean, it’s not like our ancestors had refrigerators and a plethora of fast food restaurants a stone’s throw away.

What did they have, Marcus?

Their fat.

Another thing that’s more difficult to do in your head than in reality is going to therapy. Since I started therapy over five years ago, a number of friends and family members have said, “I would never go. I could never go.” Okay. What are you so afraid of–a conversation? Because that’s all that happens there. Of course, you’ll be challenged to change, but it’s not like anybody holds a gun to your head and demands that you get some boundaries. (“Tell your aunt Sally to stop being so nosey, or I’ll pull the trigger!”) That’s all up to you. Change is always up to you.

Of course, making changes and having healthy boundaries isn’t easy. If it were, everyone would do it. But again, experience has taught me that difficult conversations are mostly difficult in my head. Not that every confrontation I’ve had over the last five years has been comfortable and fun, but they’ve all gone better than expected. Once I open my mouth and say, “I think we need to talk,” I find strength I didn’t know was there. I hear myself saying things I was afraid to say (“I’m done with this shit,” “I’m sorry,” “I’d like to try again”) and think, Okay, I’m doing it. This is really happening. When it’s all over I think, Phew. That wasn’t so bad.

Something else I’ve been thinking about is a question my therapist often asks me when I directly or indirectly ask for her advice–“What do YOU want to do?” This, I think, is the mark of a good therapist or even a good friend–rather than taking your problem as an opportunity to pontificate and sound smart, they turn you back to your own wisdom. They affirm that YOU know what’s best for YOUR life. Recently I had a disagreement with someone, and when I asked my therapist how to handle it, she said, “What do want to do–other than kick them in the junk?” Well, it was a professional relationship, and I wanted to quit, to walk away. Ultimately, that’s what I did. I was polite about it, but I said, “I’m outta here.”

And I’ve been happier ever since.

I guess my therapist asks this question of her clients a lot–what do you want to do?–not because most people don’t know what they want to do, but rather because most people are afraid to do what they want to do–quit a job, turn down an invitation, tell someone to fuck off (to the moon, Alice!). At one point when I owned the dance studio I had some drama with a student and found myself being nervous to go to work–AT MY OWN STUDIO! Well, it took me a couple days to grow the balls, but I eventually said what I wanted to–“I’d like you to leave and not come back.” The best part? They did. Now, they took their money and a few of their friends (and THEIR money) with them, but the drama was over and I had more peace in my life.

The older I get, the more I’m convinced peace is priceless.

Joseph Campbell says we all start off life as camels. We take on heavy loads that aren’t our own–gladly. But if we’re lucky we evolve into lions, self-possessed creatures. The job of the lion, Campbell says, is to slay the dragon on whose scales is written the words “thou shalt.” This is part of the growing up or maturing process, that rather than forever being told by another what you should do, you become the authority for your own life. If your inner wisdom says to tell someone to get lost, you do it–and you accept the consequences. This is another part of growing up–you take responsibility for yourself and what your life looks like. You stop blaming others (your parents, the gods, the economy). You realize that at the end of the day the person with the most influence over your circumstances, your relationships, and your happiness–is you and you alone.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t pick and choose what you receive from life, and you can’t always accurately label something as bad.

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On the Best Advice (Blog #915)

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Yikes. Yesterday I started getting a sinus infection, and it went full-blown during the night. I got a sore throat and everything. But what do you do? Life goes on. Even if you don’t. This morning I crawled out of bed at seven, coughed up a bunch of colorful junk, got dressed, and drove my parents to the hospital. My dad’s been needing a pacemaker for a while now, and today was the day. And despite being ten minutes late because of traffic, we made it. More importantly, he made it. The surgery went fine, we’re all home now, and his heart’s beating faster than it was before.

In the waiting room today I began reading The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers by Christopher Vogler. So far, it’s glorious. One thing Vogler points out is that every great hero (or heroine) has a guide or mentor, someone who says, “Look what’s possible.” Joseph Campbell called these helpers magical aid. Dorothy had Glinda the Good Witch, Frodo Baggins had Gandolf the Grey, and Mary Tyler Moore had Lou Grant. I’ve personally been fortunate to have a number of mentors, but I consider my therapist my big-kahuna mentor. More than any other person in my life, she’s given me the guidance I’ve needed to navigate life’s challenges successfully.

Whenever I praise my therapist and thank her for changing my life for the better, she always says, “You did all the heavy lifting.” This is important to understand. Not that I’ve done any heavy lifting, but that even the best therapist can’t fix your problems for you. They can support you, they can offer you wisdom, but you’re ultimately the only one who can do anything about your problems. (Why, Marcus?) Because they’re YOUR problems.

When discussing mentors Vogler says, “The best advice is useless if you don’t take it.” Think about that. The best advice is useless if you don’t take it. Countless times my therapist has told me, “If you want healthy relationships, here’s what you have to do. I’m giving you the playbook. Be honest. Confront. Have tough conversations. Set boundaries.” Talk about fabulous advice. But what’s the saying? It’s easy to say, harder to do. When you walk out of your therapist’s office, this is where the heavy lifting comes in. This is where the rubber meets the road.

When given good advice, one question to ask yourself is, “Am I going to willfully discard this information or actually do something with it?” For me, the answer often comes when I ask myself, How badly do I want to be free? (I’ll explain.) A number of times since starting therapy I’ve been in situations in which someone violated my boundaries. I wrote about a recent situation involving work and compensation for services here. Recently I’ve come to know–deep down–that when my first response to, say, a text message, is anger, I know a boundary has been crossed. This is part of seeing and living clearly. First you have to admit that there’s a problem rather than brushing it off or explaining it away. How do you know something’s a problem? Your emotions will tell you. Anyway, once you know, then you can decide what to do about it.

This is the part about being free. When you know there’s a problem, a violation of some sort, but you purposefully choose to ignore it or brush it under the rug, who’s fault is it when 1) you feel miserable and 2) it happens again and again and again? More and more I’ve started speaking up. Not because it’s fun but because I know what happens when I bite my tongue (see below). Recently I told someone, “If you and I are going to continue to have a professional relationship, I need you to do this.” Now, the person said, “Okay,” and that was that. We’ll see what happens. But my point is that sometimes other people don’t even know they’re crossing a line unless we tell them in plain, simple language discharged of emotion (and blaming and name-calling).

For me, I’ve found that when I don’t speak up when I know there’s a problem, when I bite my tongue, I suffer needlessly. My therapist says, “Biting your tongue hurts.” For me what hurts is that I stew. I imagine all sorts of scenarios in which I yell and scream and call people bitches and assholes (and shitheads and turds). I tell other people, “Can you believe what this person did?” But when I say, “Hey, wait a damn minute, we need to talk,” that’s it. Within a matter of minutes, I feel better, regardless of how things turn out. No drama. No gossip. No pain.

In all my years (decades) of struggling with sinus infections, the only thing that’s reliably helped them is a probiotic called L. sakei, which is most commonly (but not always) found in kimchi or fermented cabbage. Last week when I started to get an infection, I bought a bottle of kimchi, and it knocked it out overnight. For a week I felt great. Now the infection is back with a vengeance. Because that bottle didn’t help yesterday, this afternoon I ended up buying over seven pounds of kimchi–because the probiotic in the kimchi expires after a couple months and the only recently made kimchi was in a huge jar. And whereas I find a six-foot tall white man walking out of an Asian food mart with seven pounds of kimchi tucked under his arm funny, again, it’s the only thing that’s helped.

You do what you gotta do.

This evening I’ve been using the new kimchi, and the jury’s still out as to whether or not it’s gonna work. I’ll know for sure in the morning. Either way, I ordered a fresh batch of only the probiotic (it comes in a powder) just moments ago, and that will be here by the end of the week. And whereas part of me is freaking out because–what if nothing works?–experience has taught me that this does work. Sure, it’s not an exact science–I have to play around to get the right product, and it’s not a one-and-done deal–but it works. The same goes with how you can improve your relationships–communicate, listen, set boundaries, speak up. It’s not an exact science. You have to keep working at it. But the advice works–if you take it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Along the way you’ll find yourself, and that’s the main thing, the only thing there really is to find.

"

On Phones and Boundaries (Blog #896)

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Two days ago I spilled hot tea on my phone, so I shut it off, took the battery out, and put it in rice to dry out. This morning I put everything back together, and–thankfully–it’s worked fabulously ever since. That being said, I have to say it was really nice going without my phone all day yesterday. It was nice waking up this morning and not immediately being bombarded by text messages, missed calls, and whatever the hell Facebook had to say. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed just waking up slowly, then (later) eating breakfast quietly–without having to think about anyone else’s good news or bad news. I’d like to make this a habit–not looking at my phone until I’m ready to face whatever it has to say.

You know, like when I’m awake.

This afternoon I started painting the dining room at the house I’ve been working on for several weeks now. While painting I thought about how I could reasonably unplug a bit more. For the longest time I’ve done my best to unsubscribe from newsletters that don’t truly interest me. I keep my phone on silent. Still, I check it constantly, if only to see what time it is or play a certain song. But you know how it goes. You get sucked in. So today I thought, I could uninstall Facebook. Just check it on my laptop. Then I thought, Eeek. I don’t know if I’m that strong. It does come in really handy for sending messages. So I took a baby step instead. I turned off push notifications, those annoying pop up messages that tell you every time someone mentions you, comments on a post you’re following, or goes to the bathroom.

In terms of areas in which I’ve grown the most since starting therapy, believe it or not, my phone tops the list. What I mean is that I used to think every time someone called or texted me, I OWED them an immediate reply. Now–in most cases–I think, I don’t owe them anything. I’ll reply when I’m ready, if at all. If I want to. Anyway, if you’re wanting to have better boundaries, either with someone specific or the world in general, your phone is a great place to start. If you’re used to replying immediately, wait. An hour, until dinner’s over, until tomorrow. Seriously, give it a shot. The world won’t fall apart.

In my experience with not replying so quickly, I’ve found that some of my friends have handled it well and others haven’t. Sometimes I get huffy reminder texts filled with question marks. “Helllooooo?????” And whereas I get it–I live in the same fast food/immediate gratification world that you do–chill out.

Personally, I like it when people freak out over silence, since it lets me know what kind of person I’m dealing with. Have I been that person who’s freaked out before? You’re damn right I have. But I’d rather someone take their time and come back with something honest and heartfelt than off the cuff. Caroline Myss tells a story about a nun whose bishop was pressing her to reply to an email he sent, but the nun said, “Hey, buddy, you had weeks to send my your email, and I’m taking the same amount of time to reply. My answer will affect a lot of people for years to come, and I need this time to reflect on my response.”

Wow. Talk about responsible.

This evening I had dinner with a dear friend of mine, and we both purposed to put our phones away while we were eating. We each made a couple exceptions, but it made the biggest difference. For over two hours we chatted and caught up with each other. We didn’t interrupt. Instead, we listened. We laughed. My point is that–and I speak from personal experience–it’s difficult to truly be present with another person (or even yourself) when you’re constantly on your phone, thinking about what’s going on out there instead of what’s going on right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You really do belong here.

"

On Spilling Tea (Blog #894)

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Today, for the most part, was fabulous. Let’s talk about what sucked.

This evening I went to Starbucks to use their internet and watch a live video about boundaries. Well, first off, I forgot my laptop. No problem, I thought, I can watch on my phone. Which worked until my battery ran low and I didn’t have my charger with me. No problem, I thought, I’ll sit in my car and use my car charger. Then I thought, But first I’ll put more honey in my hot tea. Which is where things started sucking. You know how honey can be kind of thick so you have to really apply pressure to those little ketchup-sized packets in order to get the honey to come out? Well, my hand slipped while I was trying to get the honey out–and I knocked over my hot tea.

All over the counter, the floor, and–my phone.

Which isn’t waterproof.

As this isn’t the first time this has happened (I’m a hot-tea-spillin’ pro), I immediately wiped my phone on my shorts, then wiped down the counter. As for the floor, I asked the staff for help. “Hey man,” I said, “I’m sorry, but I spilled hot tea all over the floor.”

“No problem,” he said. “I’ll get the mop.”

At which point I headed to my car and got totally engrossed in the video about boundaries.

A couple hours later, I noticed the volume button wasn’t working on my phone, which I attributed to the fact that my battery was still low. Maybe it’s because I put it in power-saving mode, I thought. Then when I got home and my main power button wasn’t working either, I remembered the The Great Hot Tea Accident of 2019 and thought, Houston, we have a problem.

When I first spilled the tea, I was tempted to self-flagellate, to make myself wrong for–I don’t know–being a human. But when I worked at summer camp and kids used to spill their milk, I just thought, Shit happens, and cleaned it up. Knowing that some of the kids came from homes in which they were yelled at for spilling things, I always figured the best thing I could offer them was my understanding. Summed up, my philosophy was–be kind and help. Anyway, tonight I tried applying this philosophy to myself. I figured I didn’t know WHY anything happens. Maybe I was being delayed, kept out of a traffic accident. Maybe I needed to simply receive understanding from someone else. Maybe the guy behind the counter needed someone to minister to.

Now that I have more information about what happened tonight–like, I partially fried my phone–I still think all of this applies. That is, there’s no point in thinking, I screwed up. Rather, I’m seeing it as an opportunity to extend grace to myself. Seen symbolically, it could also be a chance for me to “unplug” for a moment or to reevaluate the boundaries I have with technology. Couldn’t we all take a serious step back from our devices? Which is what I’m about to be forced to do. As soon as I post tonight’s blog, I’m turning off my hotspot and phone and letting it dry out.

If it’s not healed in the morning (or by tomorrow night), I’ll take it to a shop.

The last thing that occurs to me in terms of the symbolism of this incident is that I always spill hot tea on my devices (uh, just two so far). Never coffee. Never water. So there might be something to consider about my spilling tea, or gossiping. I don’t consider myself a HUGE gossip, but I certainly do it, so I think it’s worth taking a look at. Where do I make things my business that aren’t my business? Where do I betray secrets? Linking everything together, one of the points of the video I watched tonight was that in today’s world of social media, it’s way too easy to get involved in someone’s else’s life, put your nose where it doesn’t belong, and dish the dirt about each other. Who’s going to stop us? Only ourselves. This is the thing with boundaries. They’re just as much if not more so about the limits you place on yourself as the ones you place on others.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s okay to ask for help.

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