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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All the while, we imagine things should be different than they are, but life persists the way it is.

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On Having Nothing to Hide (Blog #1093)

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Well shit. The end of this blog is getting real. After tonight, I only have three more posts. Granted, something could happen. I could get sick or die first. But it looks like I’m going to make it. That feels good. At the time time, it’s terrifying. I’ve said it a lot lately, but this blog has been such an anchor for me, the idea of letting go of it feels like cutting all strings. Like I’m about to be drifting at sea. And whereas that’s exciting–I’m free, I can go where the wind blows–it’s like, gosh, I hope I learned how to sail.

I guess that’s it. I’ve gotten into a certain rhythm with this blog, there’s a predictability, a stability in the routine. Granted, it’s not always what I want to be doing, especially when I’m worn out and don’t feel like writing, or when no one pats me on the back for it (I’m big on words of affirmation), but there’s always a comfort, a safety in knowing “I wrote today.” But starting on Tuesday of next week, I won’t have that. Even if I continue writing regularly, I won’t have it in such a public, real-time way. That’s what they say about writing. It’s like telling a joke and having to wait three years to find out if it’s funny. Especially if you’re writing a book, you don’t get that immediate response.

Response is something that’s been on my mind lately. Because although a respectable number of people read my blog every day, Ellen Degeneres still gets more likes when she posts a single picture of a cat than I’ve ever gotten from all my posts combined. Ugh. This is one of the challenges to doing something creative. You can’t compare yourself to others. Well, you can, but it doesn’t do much good. Plus, the truth is that you never know what kind of an impact you’re having on people unless they tell you. And sometimes not even then. The point being that a post that’s read, liked, and taken to heart by one person could do more to change the course of that person’s life for the better than a meme that goes viral.

God works in mysterious way.

One thing I almost never do is plan out my posts. In the beginning I’d think about them all day, looking for that one idea, that one spark. I’d see a mailbox and try to make a life lesson out of it. Eventually all of that went on autopilot. A part of me just knew we needed something to say before the day was over, so it became always on the lookout. Like a radar. But subconsciously. So now it’s to the point where I can almost always sit down, open my laptop, and it–just happens.

All this being said, I have on a number of occasions thought, I really need to talk about THAT before this whole thing is over. Most recently this happened with respect to EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). Since it’s been a big part of my healing, I just wouldn’t have felt right if I’d left it undiscussed. So this week, despite the fact that my therapist says that by this point I’ve put in my dues and could talk about nothing else but farts if I wanted to, I’ve been thinking, What’s left to say? And whereas I have a rough outline for the next three days (sum up what I’ve learned, address my readers, address myself), the only thing I could come up with for tonight was–discuss the process.

The process being what it’s been like to put out and sort through (most) of my baggage in front of others, to talk about where I struggle and what I’m learning in front of God and everybody. Well, it hasn’t been the worst thing. In fact, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. Largely because it’s given me a sense of freedom that I didn’t have before. Not because I feel like I’ve vomited on the internet (sorry about your shoes, but, gosh, do I feel better), but because I feel like I’ve been honest. Like, this is who I am as a person. And when you’re honest and upfront about who you are–warts and all–well, you can walk into anywhere and be comfortable. Because you don’t have to worry about being found out. Because you’ve got nothing to hide. Not that you tell everyone everything, but the charade is finally over.

First on the inside, then on the outside.

I would encourage anyone to do this. Drop the charade. Not that you have to start a blog and spill your guts, since I recognize not everyone is comfortable with the attention that comes with posting on the world wide web. Plus, you don’t have to share your journey with hundreds or thousands in order to to have a successful one. But do share your journey with someone. Because nobody gets through life alone. If they try, they suffer. Lately I’ve really been working on this. Letting others help me, hold me. Taking the weight of the world off my shoulders. Letting the world hold its own weight. Indeed, letting go of this blog is one step in this direction for me. Someone else can write every day. I can turn my attention to other projects.

Or just take a damn nap.

In terms of its reception, this blog has been a good experience for me. Meaning I haven’t caught a lot of flack for it, the way some people do on the internet. Granted, I’ve been told what to wear, what not to wear, what to do in my photos, what to say, and what not to say, but these criticisms have been few and far between. And, I think, largely well-intentioned. Even if they weren’t received as such. Either way, oh well. They haven’t changed me. I regularly get crappy comments on some of my dance videos, and I’m still forever glad they’re out there. (The videos, not the comments.) That I’m out there. When you do something creative, when you share yourself with the world, people are going to have SOMETHING to say about it. Because people ALWAYS have something to say. (It’s what we do.) So this is my encouragement to you–

Let them say whatever the hell they want. Just don’t let them stop you from sharing yourself. Your real self. Because however big, however small, the world needs your voice. Your one unique voice that refuses to hide any longer. (Why, Marcus?) Because when one of us stops hiding, it means we all can.

Finally.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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On Tuition (Blog #1044)

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Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Over a week ago my parents’ garage door broke. Well, a gear inside the motor broke. Alas, I found out the manufacturer doesn’t make or sell replacement parts for their thirty-year-old motors. (Who knows why?) Thankfully, I found someone on eBay who does, so I ordered a new gear last Friday. And whereas I wasn’t absolutely sure that it would work, I decided when it arrived in the mail this afternoon that it would. Yippee. Sometimes God throws you a bone.

The way our specific garage door motor is set up is 1) there’s a motor that turns a crank, 2) that crank turns a big gear, 3) that big bear turns a small gear, and 4) that small gear moves the chain (and the chain moves the actual garage door). Well, when I got to looking, the only hangup with the replacement gear (the black one below) was that the second, smaller gear “sat” a little low, not quite in line with the chain. So I put a washer underneath it. Voila!

I wish I could tell you this was the only problem I had to solve this afternoon.

The next hangup I encountered was that because the motor and gears sit almost flush with the ceiling and are protected by a metal covering (not pictured), I had to run the chain through the gears BEFORE mounting the motor to the ceiling. But because the chain was connected to a bolt (that connects to a turnbuckle that keeps the chain tight) and the bolt wouldn’t fit through a plastic chain “holder” (pictured above, at top), I first had to remove the bolt by taking off the last chain link. Then, in an effort to tighten the chain and make sure it wasn’t too far this way or that way (because the position of the chain indirectly affects whether or not the garage door motor “thinks” the garage door is up or down), I broke the turnbuckle.

“Shit,” I said. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Of course, Lowe’s didn’t have the turnbuckle I needed, so I bought one that I thought I could make work. This involved drilling a hole in it so I could use a screw to connect it to the piece of hardware that actually carries or moves the garage door.

After I got the turnbuckle problem figured out, I mounted the motor to the ceiling and went to tighten the chain, which I first added the previously removed link to, holding it together with zip ties. This is when I realized the new turnbuckle’s bolts were SHORTER than the old turnbuckle’s bolts, so I had to ADD LENGTH by inserting a connecting link, which I stole from my bedroom where I was using it to hang a swag lamp.

The lesson: everything has more than one use. The other lesson: when problem-solving, you gotta think creatively.

THANKFULLY, all this rigging paid off. After I tightened the chain and reconnected all the electrical wires, everything worked fine. A little noisier than before, but fine. Is our garage door a little janky? Sure. But a brand new one would have cost $200-$350, and for the price of $24 ($21 for the gear and $3 for the turnbuckle), we’ve got something that works.

Later when my dad thanked me, I said, “You’re welcome. And I don’t mind saying it was a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sure it was,” he said. And then, because he’s rarely outdone, he added, “But did you learn something?”

Of course, I had. Two weeks ago I had almost zero idea about how garage doors work, other than the fact that when you push a button they go up or down. But now after two solid afternoons getting my hands dirty in the garage, I understand most of the mechanics and some of the electronics. So I’m richer in experience, and my parents are richer in dollars.

As my Uncle Monty used to say, we’re all winners here.

Hey fella, why the long face?

This evening I went out to eat with my friend Kim and afterwards helped her feed her horses. Well, before we wrapped up she told me a story about a mutual friend of ours, a guy who’s married to a woman who was born in another country. As the story goes, the man and his wife were visiting her native land and took a taxi to get back to their hotel. Alas, the taxi driver was less than scrupulous and took the long route in hopes of procuring a higher fare.

“I’m not paying him extra,” the man told his wife when he realized they were being swindled.

“Yes, you will,” his wife replied. “You’ll pay the man and tell him this word.”

So at the end of the ride the man handed the taxi driver the higher fare and said the word his wife had told him to, at which point the taxi driver started shoving the man’s money back to him.

“What was the word?” I asked Kim.

“Tuition,” she said. “Apparently in the wife’s culture when someone teaches you a lesson, you owe them money for tuition. So when the man said ‘tuition’ to the taxi driver he was saying, ‘I owe you because you’ve taught me that you’re a thief. You’ve taught me not to trust you.'”

Isn’t this fabulous? Also, wouldn’t we all be broke if we paid tuition to all the people in our lives who taught us not to trust them? I know I would. I can’t tell you the number of valuable lessons I’ve learned through my bad relationships, my difficult encounters with friends, family, and clients. Probably more than through my good ones. More and more, I’m grateful for these lessons and the people who taught them to me. Recently I literally walked away from a salesman who was full of shit, and a friend of mine marveled at my bravery. But the only reason I could do it was because I’ve dated master bullshitters, been backed into dozens of corners by slick salesmen and non-stop talkers. My point being that every triumph I’ve had has come at a high price. Therapy alone has cost me THOUSANDS of dollars. (And yes, it’s been worth it. I’ve been worth it.) This is the deal on planet earth. Whether you’re dealing with people or garage doors, if you want to learn something new you’ve got to get your hands dirty. You’ve got to put in the time. You’ve got to–wait for it–pony up the dough.

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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This Is Your Spiritual Journey (Blog #1035)

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A few months ago I started a new 1,000-piece puzzle. And whereas I got most of the border completed, the puzzle has honestly sat unloved and unattended to ever since. Until today. This afternoon I plopped my read end down on our futon, hunched over our coffee table, blew the dust off the puzzle box, and went to work. For five solid hours I labored, putting the border back together (someone–my father–recently knocked the puzzle off the table), hunting for pieces with similar colors, looking for perfect matches. Aren’t we all looking for perfect matches?

Now, did I get finished? Hell no. But I certainly made progress.

This evening I helped a friend publish their business’s website. Over a month ago we designed the site but got stuck because we ended up renaming their business during the design process. Well, this meant we needed, or at least wanted to, pick out a new .com address, and that’s always a pain in the butt because most the good ones are taken (.com names, not butts). For example, marcuscoker.com is taken (by me), so if you wanted a website named marcuscoker.com, you’d just have to think of something else. Maybe marcuscoker01.com or marcuscocker.com, which is what all the telemarketers call me. (Of course, it’d be weird for YOU, someone who’s NOT named Marcus Coker, to have a site named after ME, someone who is.) Anyway, my friend and I got together tonight to brainstorm website names, and for over an hour we were like, “No, that’s not it. Uh, close, but no cigar. Crap, what are we gonna do?”

Finally, my friend suggested something, and we were both like, “Yeah, that’s it. I really like that.” Then we checked to make sure the domain name was available, and it was. So they bought it. Then, after a good while chatting with tech support, we got the site published. Are there still changes to be made and work to be done? Sure.

But we made a lot of progress.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about endings and beginnings, I guess because this blog will be ending soon (two months from tomorrow will be my last consecutive post), and another project–I’m guessing–will begin. Yes, something else will begin. Something always does. Indeed, I already have a few projects up my sleeve. I just don’t know which one will call mostly loudly for my attention. That’s the deal with creative endeavors. More often than not, you don’t tell them what’s up, they tell you what’s up. For example, I’ve made it a practice to sit down and write every day, and–yes–I have certain parameters I work within. (Like, I talk about me and my therapist. I don’t talk about celebrity gossip or cornbread recipes.) But within these parameters, what I write about is usually dictated TO ME.

What I mean is that I have an internal creative compass that points me in this or that direction, tells me when I’m on or off center. It says, “No, that’s not it. Start again. Delete that paragraph.” It says, “That’s it, you’re done. Don’t you dare write another word.” As strange as this process may sound, it’s not. We all know when a night out with our friends is over, or when a relationship is. We don’t even have to say we’re done (because the other person knows too), we can just start packing up our things. More and more, I can’t advise listening to this inner wisdom–your inner wisdom–enough. In essence, this IS your spiritual journey, learning to follow your own divine compass. That still, small voice that tells you, “Go here, don’t go there. Do this, don’t do that.” The one that tells you when pieces fit, when pieces don’t. The one that tells you when something’s a perfect match or not.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even if you can't be anything you want to be, you can absolutely be who you were meant to be. Don't let anyone else tell you differently.

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On Properly Directed Imagination (Blog #1021)

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Last night when I got home from painting at 10:30, my dad asked me, “Do you want to go WORK OUT?” Well, the television was on, and–silly me–I thought he was asking about my evening and heard, “Are you WORN OUT?” So I said, “Yes.” (Because I felt like crap.) Then he asked if I still needed to blog (the answer was yes again), which I thought he asked because he was going to suggest that I go to be early. But no, he was (I found out later) trying to figure out when we’d be leaving for the gym. Y’all, I blogged until 1:00 in the morning, and the whole time my dad was patiently waiting for me on the couch. When I finished he said, “Ready to go to the gym?”

“The gym?” I said. “I’m going to bed.”

So thirty minutes ago my dad dragged my mother into the laundry room where I was working on arts and crafts and said, “Okay, I have a witness. Do–you–want–to–go–work–out–tonight?”

“Yes, I actually would like to WORK OUT tonight,” I said. “But I have to blog first.”

So here I am, blogging.

For the last two and a half weeks I’ve been fighting a sinus infection, but–thankfully–have felt better today. (Fingers crossed this trend continues.) This afternoon I had lunch with a friend. Then I went thrift shopping but didn’t buy anything (way to go, Marcus). Then this evening I did some odd jobs for a client. Then–when I came home and Dad told me my driver’s side headlight was out–I put a new bulb in my car. Then I combed through picture frames and old book covers and matched them to some brooches I recently acquired. I can’t tell you how fun this is for me. Whenever the creative mood strikes, seriously, time and my worries fly away. Magically, I’m transported to a better place.

Along the lines of creativity, this evening in an old book I recently bought (for the cover) I ran across an article about creativity and genius by the artist Frederic Whitaker. In it he compares and contrasts insanity to genius and says, “Insanity is imagination without control. Genius is imagination under control–plus the divine spark that we call driving force.” I absolutely adore these definitions, especially considering that we all too often MISUSE our imagination. For example, both me and my dad each IMAGINED a certain conversation about our going to work out (or my being worn out) last night, neither of which was TRUE. Likewise, don’t we all IMAGINE the thoughts, behaviors, and judgments of others on a daily basis (and aren’t those imaginations often negative and, therefore, pain-inducing)?

Isn’t this too imagination without control (that is, insanity)?

More and more I believe that imagination, creativity, and genius were meant for arts and crafts projects, home building and decorating, landscaping, dancing, playing musical instruments, and SOLVING problems, not INVENTING them. Because isn’t that what’s happening when we presume to know what someone else is thinking, feeling, or doing–creating problems out of thin air? I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve lost sleep believing someone was mad at me or–worse–intentionally trying to screw up my life when–I found out later–they weren’t. Like, at all. This is where misdirected imagination leads you–into the land of insomnia, anxiety, stress, and depression.

Properly directed imagination, however, leads you out of it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The symbols that fascinate us are meant to transform us.

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On Miracles (Blog #1016)

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Okay. Where are we going tonight?

For the last 1,000+ days I’ve sat down to blog and had this question somewhere in my mind. Granted, there have been times that I’ve absolutely KNOWN–these are the things I want to say. But even then writing has been the adventure that creativity is, full of twists, turns, and oh-wow moments. Not one single time in the last three years have I not been surprised by what’s inevitably birthed here at this keyboard, be it a clever phrase, a happy joke, or a somber theme. Even when I’m totally blank and thinking, Well, that’s it, I’m all dried up, some idea comes along out of nowhere to save my ass. Even when I’m certain I’m creatively bankrupt, something good magically appears.

Overall, today has been fabulous. Almost everyone, or at least the news anchors, in our area have been concerned with the weather (there have been tornado warnings), but I’ve been concerned with brooches, working on framing a few recent acquisitions. And whereas I got one project done today, I’m still waiting on paint and glue to dry before I can finish two others. Ugh. Everything is always a process. Both in art and in life, it seems that nothing is ever “done.” The good news about this, I suppose, is that not being done leaves room for The Mystery. Until you’ve reached the last page in a book–the last word–the story’s not over.

This evening I had dinner with a friend I’ve known for–gosh–over fifteen years now, one of the first people I came out to. Anyway, they made spaghetti, and we did what we always do–laugh, share stories, console. Then while I was on my way home I thought about how so very often I’m worried about money but how time with an old, true friend is absolutely priceless. How even if I had all the money in the world it wouldn’t have made tonight any better.

Well, it might have paid for some chocolate cake.

But still, I was happy.

We had cookies.

When I got home I helped my dad put a homemade dog bed (fashioned from old bath mats and a comforter) in my parents’ room for our family dog, Ella. My parents have a waterbed, and there’s a crawl-through space, a hiding area underneath the headboard where I guess Ella likes to go to chill out, get away, and rest her paws. Anyway, I positioned her new bed inside the crawl space, and she went right to it. Later I checked and she was still there, totally relaxed, content. This is my point about being happy. We make it complicated, but–really–it takes so little. Currently I’m in a comfortable chair sipping hot tea and listening to the rainfall.

What more do you need?

Now, an hour ago, just before I sat down to blog, I checked my bank account because I need to pay bills tomorrow. And whereas I’m not destitute–y’all–it wasn’t pretty. Hell, it hasn’t been pretty in years, especially since I closed my dance studio and started chasing my dream of being a writer. (My therapist says, “You ARE a writer.” So I correct myself–chasing my dream of being a PAID writer.) Ugh. I have friends that make both positive and sarcastic comments about how NICE it must be to sleep in every day and spend my days reading, writing, and–now–framing brooches. And, y’all, it is. It is NICE. But trying something new and living a non-conventional life always comes at a cost. And whereas it’s not always a financial cost, it often is, at least for a while. I add “at least for a while” because that’s my hope, that–sooner or later–the lean times will fatten up.

Dear God, please make it sooner.

Earlier tonight my mom sent me a glorious and emotional video and testimonial by Steve Harvey. Essentially, years ago Harvey was on his last leg, down to his final $35, when he was offered a stand-up gig in New York. Phew, you might think, but Harvey didn’t live in New York and–newsflash–plane tickets cost more than $35. But then–just like that–two other stand-up gigs came through and Harvey was able to make the New York gig. From there, his career took off. Later Mom and I were talking about it, and she reiterated Harvey’s advice–never give up. Because you’re CERTAIN to not succeed if you quit. But if you keep going, well, anything could happen. God could step in.

“That’s one thing about God,” I told Mom. “He always waits until the last damn minute. He’s so dramatic.”

“He certainly can be,” Mom said.

That’s Mom, ever the diplomat.

Getting back to creativity and writing and the idea that you never know what’s going to appear, I suppose this idea applies to our lives too. That is, just when we least expect it, something good comes along. My therapist says she’s noticed this happens a lot for me. Whenever I’m down and thinking, I am SO SCREWED, the universe saves my ass. Out of nowhere, a check shows up. An idea comes along. Even it’s not a windfall (so far it’s never been a windfall), it’s enough to get me through. Regardless, I’m always left dumbfounded, amazed. Just like I am when I consider any good fortune, including any good friend who comes into my life. I think, I never could have planned this. I’m always so surprised. That’s the thing. You never see miracles coming.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You really do belong here.

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you never see miracles coming

Steadfast (Blog #1014)

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Well crap. It’s two in the morning, and I’m just now starting to blog. Now, for the last two hours I’ve been right here on this laptop working, trying to add a page to my website. I’ll explain. Today and for the last two days I’ve been working on framing brooches in such a way that they can still be worn. That is, so that they can be used as art on your wall or art on your person. And whereas I still have a few more in the works (the paint’s drying), I finished enough this afternoon that I took pictures of them, uploaded them to my new Instagram page (@broochesforbros), and officially opened shop.

That’s right, I’m selling them.

“Be sure to cross-pollinate,” my therapist said when I told her about the idea a few weeks ago.

“Huh?” I said.

“You know,” she said, “share them on your Facebook page and blog.”

Anyway, that’s what I was trying to do earlier this evening, add a page to my blog menu about the brooches and embed my Instagram pictures. In theory, this is easy to do. HOWEVER, when I started my Instagram page a couple weeks ago, Instagram said I could use the login for my @meandmyshink account in order to make things less complicated. But if you want to embed your Instagram photos on your website, you apparently have to have a separate login. Ugh. This took took forever to figure out. But thankfully I did figure it out (after a lot of Googling and cursing), and the new page is up now.

You can check it out here. (The picture at the top of the page looks like this.)

I guess it’s been one of those days. This morning I woke up sick again (it’s been ten days now), and that’s starting to wear on me. Then this afternoon while mounting a unicorn brooch (I know that sounds funny) that I thought would be super simple, super quick, I ended up nearly pulling my hair out. Because first it was difficult to get the unicorn to “sit” on an angle, and I was convinced it wouldn’t work horizontally. Unicorns, after all, don’t trot, they fly. At least in my fantasies. Anyway, then because the frame was older than dirt (or made of some strange material), it cracked when I tried adding a hanger to the back. Well, I persisted, and it cracked again. “Crap,” I said. “Crap, crap, unicorn crap.”

THANKFULLY, things with the unicorn brooch finally worked out. There’s a saying in house remodeling–caulk and paint make it what it ain’t–and I guess that applies to brooch framing too. That is, once I finished, the cracks either weren’t visible or simply added to the piece’s character.

Ugh, all that stress for nothing.

Another thing that had me worked up this evening was announcing to the world (my Facebook feed) that not only was I making art, but also selling it. What if people don’t like it? I thought. What if they think it’s outrageously priced? This is something my therapist and I have talked about ad nauseam, knowing your worth and having the confidence to ask for it (and, when necessary, demand it). Earlier tonight I was thinking about what I charged for dance lessons when I FIRST started teaching almost twenty years ago and what I charge now (it’s significantly more). And what I COULD charge if I were in a bigger city (or just felt like it). Anyway, it’s been this long journey to get to, “Hey, wait a damn minute, I’ve got something good to offer here,” instead of just giving everything away.

You know, so people will like me.

Just before I decided to close my dance studio and have my estate sale a few years ago, I wrote an essay about how dissatisfied I’d become in my then-current life. (I read the essay on this page in a live video titled May 4, 2018 (To Celebrate Blog #400).) Anyway, part of my dissatisfaction was the fact that I felt like I had gifts (dance instruction) to offer my community, but that my community–at least at that time–wasn’t interested. Over three years later, this continues to be a fear, that others will see my talents and passions as, well, useless. Or, if they do indeed find them interesting or novel (get it? I’m a writer), they won’t support them, support me, with their dollars. Because let’s face it, you can say it’s fabulous that there’s a new dance studio or restaurant in town, but if you don’t GO THERE, then do you really?

Now, this isn’t a guilt trip. (Guilt be damned.) I’m often the person who doesn’t go to the new restaurant or–gasp!–buy a friend’s new book. At the same time, I’m often the person who does. So I get it. Being a human is complicated. Money doesn’t grow on trees. Whatever. But sticking to the perspective of the creator, the person who’s trying something new, this is why it’s a fearful thing. You think, Is this going to fly? Sure, it’d be nice to stay home and make framed brooches all day, but at some point they’ve gotta sell because, quite frankly, I’m not independently wealthy and can’t afford to keep up the hobby if they don’t.

It’s just math.

Now, the good news is that I’ve come a long way in the last few years. That is, back then I wasn’t sure WHO I was if other people weren’t interested in what I had to offer. NOW I absolutely know who I am. If I go the rest of my life and never sell a(nother) dance lesson, a framed brooch, or a book I’ve written, I absolutely know who I am. I know what I’m good at, I know what brings me joy, and I know what sets me free. In this, I am steadfast. More and more, I want to do only those things that make my heart sing. Regardless of how anyone else responds. Would I love to have the support and praise of my community? Of course. Who wouldn’t? But I know I don’t NEED another’s affirmation to define myself. No one does.

At least, no one should.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perfection is ever-elusive.

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The Seeds from Which Your Strength Tree Grows (Blog #1013)

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It’s 1:50 in the morning, and I can’t stop coughing. Today I told a friend I’d been struggling with sinus stuff, and they said, “You and everyone one else.” So that’s nice to know. I’m part of a group. Gosh, it feels good to be included. But seriously, I’ve had so many upper respiratory problems over the years, it’s easy to forget that I’m not the only one, that other people catch things too. That things go around here on planet earth. But remembering that we’re all in this sickness thing together–I guess–makes it more bearable. What’s the saying? Misery loves company.

Excuse me while I hack up a lung.

The good news is that I typically don’t cough much during the day, just at night while I’m trying to blog or sleep. But take this afternoon, for example. I was able to work on framing my vintage brooches for several hours nonstop. And whereas when I first started this project things went pretty quickly because I was permanently fastening (glueing) the brooches to the backboards (old book covers), things are taking longer now because I’m non-permanently attaching (hanging) the brooches on the backboards so that, in addition to being able to display them on a wall, I can also display them on my body.

Yowza, yowza.

Here’s one I finished today.

The most difficult part about this entire process is hanging the brooch where I think it’s most aesthetically pleasing. In this particular case, the middle. And since THAT involves drilling holes in the backboard, well, I’ve really only got one shot to get it right. Now, I’ve found ways to allow myself a little wiggle room, but it’s only a little. So this is where my Inner Perfectionist comes in handy, since he helps me get the details right. And when things aren’t EXACTLY perfect? Well, then, I have to tell him to shut up. Because projects like these are meant to be fun, not self-tortuous.

One of the things I like about framing vintage jewelry using old book covers is that it’s a way to not only be creative but also breath new life into forgotten objects. I love digging through a pile of used books and, upon seeing one with a lovely cover, thinking, You! How has no one noticed you before? I’ve got just the right frame and just the right piece of jewelry to put you with, and then–I promise–you’re going to shine. That’s the deal with creativity. You have to be able to look at something someone else would throw away and see gold.

My therapist has a saying–potential, not pathology. This phrase was recently brought up in the context or our going forward. That is, rather than focusing on what’s wrong, we’re going to be focusing on what’s right. Not that there’s anything wrong with focusing on what’s wrong. Sometimes you have to know what’s broken before you can fix it. But once you’ve focused on what’s wrong (I’ve been in therapy for almost six frickin’ years now), well then, it’s time to take your broken and scattered pieces and put them back together into something new, beautiful, and useful. It’s time to breathe new life into YOURSELF. It’s time to make YOURSELF shine.

This evening while I was working, my parents were watching The Batchelor, which means I was watching The Batchelor. Anyway, after one of the girls talked about her difficult childhood (I missed all the details, but someone important died), my dad the cynic said, “WHERE do they find all these people with their sob stories?!”

“It can’t be THAT hard,” I said. “Everybody’s got one.”

But seriously, don’t we? Lately I’ve been talking about how our challenges aren’t personal, and this is what I mean. When everyone you know or are related to has had someone die of cancer, or been in a terrible car accident, or been divorced, beaten up, cheat upon, or neglected, how can you claim that your problems are unique? Now, I’m not minimizing them. They are unique to you. And important for your journey. At the same time, I AM trying to take the sting out of them. I’m trying to get you out of victim mode (pathology) and into your power (potential) by helping you see that these things–these very shitty things–simply happen on planet earth. To everyone. Because this is the shit happens to you, and you, and you planet.

Why we signed up to come here, I’ll never know. I’m convinced, as a friend of mine says, we must have missed something in the fine print.

At one point while I was working today, my dad said, “You know, you mother and I don’t always get to see you actually doing the things you like doing [like dancing, writing]. But I’ve been watching you paint and drill and glue and and everything else this afternoon, and you look absolutely content.”

“Hum,” I said, “I am content. I really enjoy this.” That’s another thing about this planet. Despite the fact that some terrible things can and do happen (and that they can and do happen to you), it’s still possible to be content, to be happy. Even while you’re coughing up a lung, it’s still possible to find peace of mind. This is one of the gifts of doing The Hard Work, of looking at the most challenging and shitty events of your life and shifting your perspective about them in such a way that they become your greatest assets, the seeds from which your Strength Tree grows. Because that’s the deal, it’s not what happens to you, but what grows out of it. It’s how YOU grow out of it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Solid help and solid hope are quite the same thing.

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The Game of Life (Blog #989)

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Phew. It’s two in the morning, and I’ve been going all day. This morning and afternoon I went antiquing/craft shopping, mostly hunting for inspiration. The last two days I’ve talked about mounting vintage brooches on old book covers, and I’ve gotten absolutely obsessed with the idea that you can use books for something other than reading. Talk about a novel idea. (Get it, novel?) Granted, I’ve used books for decoration before, but I’ve never cut them up strictly for parts until yesterday. This afternoon at a thrift store I rifled through a stack of books and judged them solely by their covers. I can’t tell you how good it felt.

No reading required.

Walking away from the thrift store with the above stack of pretty books, my mind raced with creative options. I thought, I could do this, I could do that. Honestly, it was a bit overwhelming, somewhat like staring at the menu at The Cheesecake Factory. Seriously, too many options! But this is life. Whether we’re crafting, writing, or picking out what to eat for dinner, we could go in a thousand directions. And whereas I tend to take decision-making rather seriously (like, What if I don’t choose the right thing?), I really think it’s meant to be more playful than profound. I mean, yes, even seemingly trivial choices have consequences. But if your following you heart, being kind, and having fun, I’m not sure you can go wrong.

Looking back at nearly a thousand days of blogging, I KNOW I haven’t always said or done the “right” or ideal thing. But here’s something I absolutely know to true–it’s better to create imperfectly than to not create at all.

This evening I babysat two boys, and we (well, me and one of the boys) played Fort Smith Opoly, our town’s nod to the famous (or is it infamous?) Monopoly board game. Y’all, I thought we’d be done super-quick, but the game went on for over two hours. We didn’t even get to finish; the boys had to go to bed. That being said, when we did wrap up I was kicking my opponent’s little rear end. He had two thousand dollars, and I had seven.

But don’t go asking me for a loan for your creative projects. You can’t spend Fort Smith Opoly money at Hobby Lobby.

It’s fake.

Recently I heard Caroline Myss say something like, “Think of all the wonderful things that have happened in your life–you didn’t plan any of them. Now think all the disasters in your life–you planned all of them.” Oh my gosh, y’all, I laughed out loud. How true. Every mentor or true-blue friend I’ve ever has been someone who just “showed up.” You know, randomly. Conversely, most every thorn in my flesh has been someone I saw and thought, I really need to get to know them. The idea being that it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to trust our own wisdom a little less and the wisdom of the gods a little more.

The idea being that they’re on our side and want good things for us.

For me what’s difficult about trusting heaven is that I’m not in control. Now, I KNOW I’m not in control, but one of the reasons I like to obsess over every little detail of creative projects is because it makes me FEEL like I am. This is all an illusion. (Give it up, Nancy.) I can brag about winning Fort Smith Opoly tonight, but if we’d ended the game thirty minutes earlier I wouldn’t have had even a hundred dollars because THREE times I rolled the dice and had to pay my little friend $2,000 when I landed on Downtown Fort Smith, which he owned and had developed to the enth degree. My point being that both my bad fortune and my good fortune were largely out of my hands, left to the roll of the dice. Left up to heaven. (Pause.) More and more I’m seeing whatever heaven sends my way as more than enough, better than I could plan for. So long as I get to play the game (of Fort Smith Opoly, of life), I’m content. So long as I get to create, I’m happy.

This dog, however, is apparently only happy when he’s hoarding five-hundred-dollar bills.

Don’t bother telling him they’re not real.

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 Upcycling Your Past (Blog #988)

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Last weekend I got the idea to start a magnet board project, and yesterday I got the idea to start a picture frame project. And whereas a lot of my inspirations never come to fruition (this is the nature of the beast), today I started working on both of these ideas. Although I guess I technically started earlier in the week when I went to Lowe’s to buy supplies–spray paint, mounting hooks, etc.–for the magnet board. Or maybe I started before that when I had the notion to create. Hell, this probably all goes back to that fateful morning in 1979 when my parents skipped church to conceive me. Who knows when anything starts or stops?

But I digress.

For the magnet board I first took the pieces of wood framing I already had and cut them to the proper size. Having gone back and forth about whether to frame the board on the front (where it would look pretty and hold down the decorative paper on the board) or on the back (where it would allow more space for magnets and provide an easy way to hang the whole thing on the wall), I finally decided on the front. This is the deal with decisions. You worry and worry and then–poof!–you make a decision. Like an adult. Anyway, then I put one coat of spray paint on the boards and ironed the decorative paper as flat as possible while they dried. Then I put on a second coat of spray paint and turned my attention to the picture frame project I talked so much about yesterday.

As my plan was to hunt down a used book with an appealing cover for the mounting board/backdrop for my picture frame, I changed out of my paint clothes, switched shoes, and got ready to go. But just as I was leaving the house I decided to rifle through a box of religious books my mom had set aside for our upcoming spring garage sale. Well, I hit pay dirt. (Apparently Christians know how to make pretty books.) I found beautiful covers in blue, purple, black, and gold. And whereas I decided on blue for this current project, my mind went wild with possibilities for other projects. I even started showing my parents–like, Look at this, look at this. Well, when I showed my dad a golden cover with golden etching next to my golden frame and golden brooch (the object I’ve been thinking about displaying inside the frame), he said, “That’s TOO MUCH gold.”

“Not if I painted the frame purple,” I said.

He just looked at my mom and shook his head. “There’s something wrong with that kid.”

“You’re witnessing creativity in action,” I said.

As I sit here now, neither my magnet board nor picture frame project is complete. For the magnet board, the paint is still drying. Some things just take time. (No matter how much I wish things were complete, I can’t change the laws of spray paint.) And whereas for the picture frame project I got the book cover cut and mounted and a hanger attached to the back, I still haven’t decided WHAT to put in the frame. I love the idea of having my golden leaf brooch on display, but I also like the idea of wearing it and therefore don’t want to hot glue it down. Alas, I don’t know WHAT I’m going to do. The upside to being undecided? Anything could happen. The possibilities are endless.

With respect to everyday living, the lesson here is that we can focus on (put inside the frame of our attention) anything we want. When we wake up each day we can say, “Am I going to whine, bitch, and complain about the world I see? Or am I going to be grateful that I’ve been given one more day to live here and–here’s an idea–do something about it?”

While cutting the blue book cover down to size, the part of me that loves books and believes they’re meant to be read died a little. Tossing the rest of the (religious!) book in the trash, I felt like a sinner. Still, I remember what it felt like to be under the thumb of religion, and it wasn’t good. So it also felt refreshing to take something heavy and turn it into something light, to upcycle a piece of my past. With this is mind, I wrote the name of the book and its author on the back (er, inside) of the book cover to remind myself that as one thing–a book, an idea, a way of being–dies, it makes room for something else to be born.

Nothing is ever wasted.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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