A Chair to Sit in (Blog #868)

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It’s nearly two in the morning, and I’m having a tough time focusing. Today has been a busy day, and I guess I’m having trouble winding down. This morning I finished a room I started painting a few days ago, then came home, ate a sandwich, and took a shower. Then I headed to Fort Smith for a meeting, a meeting that got postponed while I was on my way to it. And whereas this normally would have bothered me, it didn’t. For whatever reason, I’ve been in a fabulous mood all day and have been impervious to irritation. This is extremely ironic, since yesterday I was covered from head to toe in frustration.

Sometimes life throws you a bone.

After I had my estate sale a few years, the only piece of furniture I owned was a small bookshelf. Then last summer when my aunt had a yard sale, I doubled my furniture collection–by adding an old leather ottoman. And whereas I was set on only acquiring new things (because I was in the middle of starting a new life), I fell in love with this ottoman because it belonged to my grandparents. It even has one of grandpa’s famous cigarette burns on it. Anyway, for the last year the ottoman has simply sat in my room in front of my window. Mostly, it’s given me a place to tie me shoes.

So get this shit. Today on a whim I went to an antique store and found a lovely leather chair that matches my ottoman–for the bargain price of $24. Talk about a steal. So I bought it.

Then I bought a pillow to go with the chair.

Because when you’re my age you’ve got to think about lower lumbar support.

I can’t tell you how excited I am about having this chair. Now I can read in my own room sitting up instead of lying down. I can listen to music while sipping tea. I can have company (not everybody at once!) and offer them a place to sit instead of insisting they share my twin bed.

Boy was that getting awkward.

Now it’s three in the morning, and I keep getting distracted by other things. Plus, I’m tired. So although I hate to be abrupt, I’m going to wrap this up. Last night I mentioned that at the end of a rough day (yesterday) I got excited about a new creative idea. This idea, I’m sure, has much to do with my good mood today. This fascinates me, the idea that one’s mood can turn around just like that by thinking about something that excites you, something that gets your creative juices flowing.

And all the better if you have a chair to sit in where you can think about these things.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The more honest you are about what's actually happening inside of you, the happier you are.

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Enough (Blog #867)

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Yesterday I blogged about feeling generally irritated and frustrated by my situation in life, and today I talked to my therapist about my feelings. “Let’s just call it like it is,” she said. “You’re fucking pissed.”

“Okay, I’m pissed,” I said.

“That’s all right,” she said. “Be pissed.”

“OKAY, I’M PISSED!” I said.

So now that that’s established.

My therapist asked if I’d ever blogged about just how frustrating it is for me to be 1) living with my parents and 2) trying to “make it” as a writer or a creative. Like, what’s it like to be a starving artist? (Well, you go hungry a lot.) And whereas I told her that I have blogged about these frustrations a number of times, I also said maybe I needed to give it another shot. So here I go.

It’s frustrating as hell. (How’d I do?)

Okay, fine, I’ll dig deeper. Today my therapist said she thought part of me wanted life to wave a magic wand and make my dreams come true. Well, yeah, of course I want that. Who wouldn’t? At the same time, I know it’s not realistic–for each goal a person has, there’s work to be done. For me, it’s not that I’m afraid of the work. It’s that I’m often paralyzed by what step to take next. With a hundred creative ideas in my head, I’m not always sure which one to pursue. Also, I’m scared that whatever I do pick won’t be THE ONE. In short, I’m scared to fail. Of course, as my therapist said, “What do you have to lose?”

“At this point,” I said, “Really nothing.”

My pride, you say?

Honey, I lost that a long time ago.

Getting back to what’s frustrating for me, sure, part of it is that my life doesn’t look like what I want it to right now. However, a good deal of my frustration is due to what I’ve done internally with the facts of me life. That is, I’ve blamed myself for my situation. Like I have this dream and have taken steps toward it, but the steps I’ve taken OBVIOUSLY aren’t enough. So that means I’m not enough. I’m a failure. This is where the frustration really lies, the feeling that I’ve done my best and it–clearly–isn’t sufficient.

This thinking, of course, is recipe for misery. Normally therapy puts me in a good mood, but I spent this afternoon in a pretty significant funk. I did a lot of–what’s the word?–wallowing. Not that I donned sackcloth or anything. I actually donned painting clothes and continued painting the room I started yesterday. I listened to several podcasts. In short, I was productive. At the same time, however, I gave myself a good deal of grief. For not having my act together. For not being “a success.”

Thankfully, this evening while I was taking a shower, the weight of the world fell off my shoulders. I remembered that my therapist said that as many as one-in-four people (Google says one-in-five) live in multi-generational households. “There are a lot of people like you,” she said. Then I started thinking about some steps I could take to reach my goals–and actually got excited about them. My therapist said, “Do you ever talk about how irritating writing is?” I said, “It’s not writing itself that’s irritating. It’s that it’s not paying the bills.” This is the thing about creative projects. Inherently, there’s joy in thinking about them, doing them. But you can suck the joy right out of them when you put pressure on those projects to put food on the table.

In the moments when I’m most clear, I’m proud of myself for listening to my soul several years ago, closing my dance studio, and beginning to work on a new life. I’m proud of this blog, regardless of who does or doesn’t read it, regardless of whether or not it ever makes me a dime. I get hung up on success as the world sees it, but the truth is I already consider myself a success when it comes to what really matters to me–what’s on the inside, not what’s on the outside. Do I want the outside to follow the inside? Sure. It would make a lot of things easier. But until that happens, I’m working on being okay right here, right now–irritated, frustrated, pissed off, or joyful. I’m enough.

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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Each Step is Necessary (Blog #866)

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This morning I finished painting a room I started painting a couple weeks ago before The Great Upset Stomach Incident of 2019. Well, I technically didn’t paint it today. Rather, I scraped paint off the windows then cleaned up the mess I made on the floor. Then I put the light switch and electrical outlet covers back on. This is all part of the process when painting a room–the details. With respect to this particular project, twenty percent of my total time was spent either getting the room ready to paint or putting it back together after having painted it.

After finishing that room, I started on another. This room was smaller than the first, but it still took over an hour to tape off the carpet around the baseboards, scrape off some old paint that was peeling inside the closet, and get the drop cloth down. Once things were prepped and ready to go, I was ready to go. That is, I took a break so I could see my chiropractor and grab lunch. Later, I came back and got one full coat of paint applied to that room. Ugh. I’d wanted to finish the whole thing tonight, but things always take longer than you want them to.

This is what tomorrow’s for.

Several days ago I figured out the rash on my arm is ringworm, a fungus. I can’t tell you how grossed out I’ve been about it. Anyway, I’ve been putting anti-fungal cream on it and, honestly, probably overdoing it. Still, although I have to admit it’s colorful to look at, I want the damn thing gone. Well, after three days of applying the cream, I couldn’t tell a difference. I thought, Maybe I’m doing something wrong. MAYBE IT’S CANCER! But then just like that, this morning, I noticed a significant positive change. Now it’s pink instead of red. There’s new skin forming. My point is that, first, if you just look at things as they are–a half-painted room, a fungus on your arm–you can’t always tell something good is happening. Second, if you’re not patient, you’ll probably get real frustrated and and think things are worse than they are.

There’s a famous tale that gets told a lot in spiritual circles. A wise man prayed that his teenage son would always be safe, and the next day his son fell off a horse and broke his leg. “How awful,” the villagers said, but the wise man stayed silent. Later when a war broke out and most the town’s youth were drafted to their ultimate demise, the wise man’s son was spared. How could he fight with a broken leg?

So often this happens in our own lives. We think something is awful, and it turns out to be good. Today my chiropractor and I talked about my current frustrations, the chief of which is that it often feels like I’m doing everything right and not getting the results I want (in my health, in my life). However, the truth is that I have a limited perspective. I look back on my life thus far and think, All of that was necessary preparation. So wouldn’t it make sense to think that what I’m living NOW–even with all its pains and frustrations–is also necessary preparation for what I will be living LATER?

Of course it would.

Each step is necessary.

My chiropractor’s suggestion was for me to see how much I could embrace. That is, often when things aren’t going how we want them to, we push against the universe. We go to work with a scowl on our face and curse and spit at every opportunity because we feel we’re being put upon by life. (Or is that just me?) But there is another option. Personally, I know I have it within me to ENJOY whatever it is I’m doing, whomever I’m around (well, almost). I can EMBRACE the moment–half-painted room, a fungus among us, this is my life right here, right now. I can recognize that everything is part of The Process. I can recognize that each step is necessary. I can recognize that all things are progressing, healing as they should.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Everything is progressing as it should.

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When Your Inner Child Throws a Fit (Blog #863)

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Two hours ago I was just about to start blogging when my dad invited me to go out for a waffle. Well, what do you think I did? That’s right, I went out for a waffle. And whereas it was delicious, now it’s now eleven-fifteen and I’m nearly too tired to write. For the last thirty minutes I’ve been here at the keyboard trying to figure out what to say. Ugh, today my emotions have been all over the place. And not that I mind talking about my emotions, I just haven’t been able to get a significant enough handle on what they are in order to do so. Maybe we can figure this out together.

This afternoon I read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis. Then I went to the library to tune into a live Q&A for an online class I’m taking about archetypes (among other things). Alas, when the video stream started, I found myself frustrated–first because my phone’s mobile data and internet connection had been down all day (I contacted tech support at the library and found out there was an area-wide outage), second because the video stream started thirty minutes late (they were having technical issues too), and third because Google said the rash on my right arm is ringworm (ick, gross). Later I got more frustrated because the Q&A was still going on as the library was closing, which meant I had (I chose) to sit just outside the library on a bench in the hot sun in order to stay connected to their internet and finish the video.

While I was outside, I got a headache and ants crawled up my pants.

This evening I mowed and weedeated my parents’ lawn. And whereas everything went fine, the weedeater I used was–how shall I say this?–below average in intelligence. Like, it’s one of those battery-operated numbers that won’t let you tap the end on the ground to let out more cord. Instead, every time you want more line, you have to turn the weedeater off, turn it upside down, take the lid off the line container, and release more line by hand. This gets old really quick. This GOT old really quick. Y’all, by the time I finished the lawn, I was ready to spit.

Oh well, I thought after I took a shower, at least there’s chocolate cake that the neighbor brought over. That’ll make me feel better.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” my dad said when I looked in the kitchen and couldn’t find the cake. “I ate all of that.”

AAAAARRRRRGGGAAAAHHHH.

Okay. I think we figured out my emotional roller coaster. Nothing AWFUL happened today, but I did experience a number of frustrating and disappointing situations, things I wanted to go one way that went another. Welcome to the planet, Marcus. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. Or a dozen curve balls. A day.

Look alive.

Personally, I wish I were blogging about something else, something more “positive.” I don’t like admitting that I’m–well–human and have days that get the best of me. That being said, I’m not currently AT MY BEST. I just got over a stomach bug. My body is tired. Life’s been kicking my can for a while now. I’m not complaining. I’m okay with being kicked around a bit. Because I’ve asked the universe for a new life and I understand that–the rules says–my old life has to die first. Still, days like today, although necessary to develop character, aren’t fun.

I just said that emotionally trying days develop character. It’s true; they do. At the same time, I’ve spoken before about constriction versus freedom, and I think that which frustrates us gives us an opportunity to be free, to EXPAND. I’ll explain. The online class I watched today said that when dealing with your inner child, a common response for most people is to tell it, “Shut the hell up and sit the eff down.” But would you do this with your own living, breathing child? No. At least I hope you wouldn’t. Rather, if your child came to you crying, frustrated and disappointed, you’d OPEN YOUR ARMS WIDE and say, “It’s okay, Sweetheart. There, there. Tell me all about it.”

In other words, you’d make room for them.

Now, when your inner child throws a fit, it’s obviously not wise to let it run the show. Nor would it be wise to offer it waffles (like I did tonight) every time it doesn’t get its way. Before long, you’d have to buy all new pants! So I’m not suggesting indulging every inner temper tantrum you have. Let’s face it, few of us have hours, days, or lives that go our way. What I am suggesting is that ignoring any part of yourself is only going to amplify its voice. We’ve all seen ignored children, and it’s not a pretty sight. Well, you’re inner child is no different. It needs your attention. It needs you to acknowledge its feelings. Your feelings. It needs you to listen to you.

You need you to listen to you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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For all of the things life takes away, it gives so much more in return. Whether we realize it or not, there’s always grace available.

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Please Pass the Better Feeling! (Blog #854)

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This morning I woke up with a crick in my neck and thought, Oh crap, it’s probably just gonna get worse because I’ll be spending all day painting, which is what I did. A friend of mine is fixing up their rent house (to rent), and, starting today, I’m painting the inside. And whereas I’m excited about the work (it’s good to be employed), I’ve been nervous about what it would do to my already tender and sometimes hurting body. Anyway, I took two Aspirin, said a prayer, and asked my body to hang in there. If possible, I’d like us to feel good, I said. Then off we went.

When I first arrived at my friend’s rent house, I was overwhelmed by the big-ness of the project. The entire house, every room (all the walls and ceilings), needs to be done. Where do I start? I thought. Finally, I took a breath and picked a room. Then for a solid hour all I did was prep. First I moved out all the furniture and junk. Then I took down the blinds and curtain rods and removed the wall plates. Then I wiped the cobwebs from the corners. Then I put the drop cloth down (I dropped that cloth like it was hot), shook up the paint, poured it into the pan, and got to work.

While putting on the first coat of paint, I listened to some self-help CDs I recently borrowed from a friend. One of the things the CDs mentioned was that whenever we want something–better health, more money, a lover–it’s only because we believe we’d feel better if we had it. And whereas we might (I’d certainly feel better if Zac Efron were sitting on my lap right now), the CDs suggested a novel concept–try feeling better now, even without whatever it is you want. Not great, not fabulous, just good, as good as you can in this moment, which might be different than later today or tomorrow. Anyway, I tried this. I thought about a few things that make me happy, danced around the room a bit, even did a little yoga. Later I put on the soundtrack to one of my favorite Broadway musicals. Gay, I know, but not only did it make my day painting go faster, it also made it more enjoyable.

Y’all, I worked and painted today for six solid hours. I rolled and cut in two full coats of paint onto half the room. My goal is to finish the other half tomorrow, this weekend at the latest. My point now is that the time flew by. Often when I’m doing manual labor there’s all this internal bitching–either because my body hurts or because I’d rather be doing something else. But today my body cooperated. Not that it didn’t hurt at times, but it never got out of control. And I really didn’t want to be doing something else. I saw the job for what it was–an opportunity for me to make some money, help a friend, and have time alone to listen to CDs and Broadway musicals, something I probably wouldn’t have made time for on my own.

Also, it was a chance for me to work on my attitude.

As I see it, you can always work your attitude. All the better if you’re at work or your body’s not feeling exactly like you want it to. Start by thinking, I want to feel good. Then think of things that make you feel good–your friends and relatives (well, maybe not your relatives!), your favorite book, hobby, or vacation spot. A couple years ago a friend of mine introduced me to a scene from The Big Bang Theory in which one of the characters keeps saying, “Please pass the butter,” and it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Of course, my friend and I joke about it a lot, so maybe that’s part of it. You know how something can become “a thing.” But still, whenever I want a little emotional pick-me-up, I’ll watch the clip or just think of it in my head. Please pass the butter!

And just like that, I’m smiling.

Later doesn’t exist.

I’ve made this point before, but it’s worth repeating. So often we put off our happiness. We think, I’ll be happy when my ship comes in, when I lose ten pounds (or twenty), or when I get laid. I’ll be happy when Zac Efron is sitting on my lap. And whereas there’s nothing wrong with dreaming (everybody’s got a dream), the problem with this type of thinking is that it pulls us out of the present moment, which is the only place happiness is even possible. Think about it. You can’t be happy later. Later doesn’t exist. I mean, when tomorrow arrives, it will still be NOW. And again, you don’t have to shoot for the emotional stars. You don’t have to feel the best you’ve ever felt this red hot minute. But you can reach for a slightly better feeling by opening your eyes and ears to what’s around you (life!) or by accessing a positive memory. The benefit to this exercise? It’s simple–YOU FEEL BETTER!

And you didn’t even have to go anywhere or buy anything to do so.

This is how powerful you are.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If you think only girls cry or that crying is inappropriate for some reason, fuck you. Some things are too damn heavy to hold on to forever.

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Your Best Is Good Enough (Blog #852)

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This afternoon I saw my chiropractor, the one who works with the mental/emotional/energetic causes of physical problems. This continues to be a trip. Today was my third appointment, and the man’s gotten more done with me than a handful of other chiropractors have in six times the visits. For the longest time I’ve been constantly aware of tension in my neck. And whereas it’s still there, now there are days I don’t even think about it. This is progress. This is good progress. That being said, the guy’s methods are weird.

I say weird but I only mean they’re weird compared to most medical people’s methods. I’ve spent a lot of time in the alternative healing community, and I’ve seen some really strange shit. Compared to that stuff, my chiropractor’s methods are really quite benign. Today he used muscle testing to get at the underlying emotions behind my long-time struggle with sinus infections. The positive word that came up (the emotion I feel before a sinus infection) was RELIABLE. The negative emotion (during and after a sinus infection) was INADEQUATE. Phew. There’s a can of worms. The last two years, which have been full of medical tests (that have basically said I’m healthy as a horse), have been filled with my trying to decide whether or not me and my body are reliable or inadequate.

The jury’s still out.

In truth, inadequacy is a pervasive emotion for me. Recently I blogged about my feeling like not enough, and I suppose this is the same thing. There’s a scene in Mr. Holland’s Opus when a former student of Mr. Holland’s, now a grownup, is shutting down Mr. Holland’s music program due to budget cuts. He says, “We’re doing the best we can, Mr. Holland,” and Mr. Holland yells, “Your best is not good enough!” Both of these characters are firmly entrenched in my psyche, the part of me that says, “Dammit, I’m doing everything I know to do,” and the part that is always demanding more. You know, The Perfectionist. The Hard Ass.

The one who’s real fun at parties.

This afternoon I read Transforming Fate into Destiny: A New Dialogue with Your Soul by Robert Ohotto. It’s glorious. Read it and give it to all your friends for Christmas. But really. In a New Age/Self-Help culture that claims you can manifest or have whatever you want, this book is a breath of fresh air. Robert explains that, yes, we can create magnificent things in our lives. Each of us is more powerful than we give ourselves credit for. However, each of us also came into this life understanding that there would be certain limitations (or boundaries, I love a good boundary), so we have to work within those fated guidelines.

For example, no matter what I put on my vision board, I’m never going to be the first female President of the United States. (Crap.) Because I’m a man. Likewise, I’ll never be straight (sorry, ladies), be six-foot-two (dang), look or sing like Zac Efron (dang again), or have different parents. Because my sexuality, height, looks, and parents have already been decided. And so have yours.

So get over it.

Now, what I do with what’s already been decided, that’s a different story. As I understand it, if I do nothing but sit on the couch every day and eat bonbons, that’s my choice. However, in choosing to not be an active, conscious participant in my life, not only will I not mature, but I’ll also feel as if my life is out of my control. Jung said, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will run you life and you will call it fate.” Robert says, “If you don’t access direction from within, your life will be directed from without.” (Oh snap.) However, if I choose or anyone chooses to do The Hard Work and grow the eff up, well, now we’re cooking with gas. My therapist says her job is to support me in reaching my highest potential, and your highest potential is another way of talking about your destiny. What’s actually possible for YOU? Not that guy over there, but you. What, exactly, is inside you that’s eager, waiting, and willing to be born?

This, of course, is the million dollar question, and only the gods and your soul have the answer.

Also–fair warning–because all things worth having require sacrifice (of your time, talents, and ego), should you choose to pursue your highest potential, some days are really gonna suck.

I still recommend it.

Getting back to my chiropractor’s weird ways, I repeat, they’re only weird because they’re not conventional. It’s becoming more in vogue to discuss the mind-body-soul connection, but in my experience, it’s mostly lip service. I mean, when I get a headache, give me a Tylenol. And yet I know there’s more to it. This is what I’ve run into hundreds of times along The Path. This is what you’ll run into when reaching for your highest potential or working to transform your fate into destiny. You’ll know there’s more inside you that’s wanting to come out. But because your path is different from everyone else’s, it will feel weird, you’ll question it, and you’ll feel inadequate.

Keep going. You are not alone. Your best is good enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If you're not living a fully authentic life, a part of you will never be satisfied.

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Acknowledging the Weather (Blog #847)

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Phew. I’d really wanted this entire day–from start to finish–to be easy going, relaxing. And whereas part of it was, not all of it was. I’ll explain. This morning I had a lovely breakfast then sat down with a new book, about labyrinths, which I blogged about yesterday. My goal was to read the entire book in one day. I always feel like a badass when I do that. Plus, I have SO MANY books that are partially completed because I often do what I did today–start a book but not finish it right away (or ever).

The reason I didn’t finish today’s book is because after reading for a couple hours I decided to take my car, Tom Collins, to get an oil change. “And if you don’t mind,” I told the girl at the counter, “check out the steering wheel–it’s been pulling to the right lately.” Well, later a guy called and explained–“One of your tires is separated.”

“What does that mean?” I said. (Will it be getting a divorce soon?)

Well, duh, my tire was coming apart, which meant I needed a new one–two new ones. For $175 each. Ouch. Talk about depressing. Guess who’s coming apart now? Can’t a guy catch a break?

I know, I’m whining.

“At least your tire didn’t blow up as you were driving down the interstate,” my dad said later.

Yes, at least that didn’t happen.

Money’s been a big issue for me the last few years. I can’t tell you the number of times it’s felt like the universe has kicked me in the balls financially just to turn around and do it again. I mean, I get that it’s not personal. Shit happens. It just FEELS personal. Of course it does. A person’s feelings always feel personal. Anyway, all I can say is that although life’s challenges keep coming, my reaction to them is getting better. In the past I would have been upset about the two new tires for days. Today the “oh crap” cloud only hung around for a few hours. Then it was back to sunny skies.

Recently my chiropractor and I were discussing a situation that’s been frustrating me for a while now. And whereas I won’t say what it is, I will say–it’s my life. Anyway, he said, “Think about how that feels,” and I said, “It feels like a headache (which I get a lot of).” Then he said, “Now think about how it will feel when that situation resolves.”

“Oh wow,” I said. “That feels more open, more free.”

Later I told my therapist about this interaction and–without warning–began to cry. “I’ve been waiting for my life to change before I could let my guard down and relax,” I said, “but the truth is–I’m allowed to feel good now.”

I’m allowed to feel good now.

This has been on my mind a lot lately, that I’m responsible for my mental and emotional atmosphere. It’s not something that’s going to come together reliably, consistently on its own. Thinking you’re going to be in a generally happy state of mind without any effort is like thinking you’re going to have a rockstar body (after your twenties) without making a damn effort to have one. Applying this logic to my internal response to my car needing new tires, I decided this afternoon that I could either continue to feel bad until my mood passed on its own, or I could purposefully do something to improve it.

The “feel better” route I ended up taking was a meditation in which I first accepted my life for how it currently is (warts and all) and then imagined how I wanted it to be. And whereas the imagining how I want it to be part felt great–more open, more free–it was the accepting part that really shifted my attitude. So often when I’m afraid, nervous, worried, or upset, I shove those feelings aside. I clench my jaw and think, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got shit to do. Books to read, blogs to write. But in the meditation I welcomed all of my thoughts and feelings, all of my life situations exactly as they were. Out loud I said, Everyone and everything is welcome here.

For me, this exercise caused an immediate, positive shift. There’s something about not pushing so hard, about not trying to change the weather. So many times I’ve walked outside to cloudy skies and an absolute downpour and thought, Oh crap. Then I’ve run to my car, trying to avoid getting wet. Please. Other times I’ve smiled and purposefully walked slowly so the rain could soak me through. This is what I mean by acceptance, and acceptance can be applied to any situation, thought, or feeling in your life. It’s not saying you don’t want things to change. It’s acknowledging the weather for what it is–right here, right now, powerful. So we can either run away from the storms in our lives, or we can face them, embrace them. We can say, “I’d like to stop pushing against you. I’d like us to work together.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Life is never just so. Honestly, it’s a big damn mess most of the time.

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Snap! The Job’s a Game (Blog #838)

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This morning I watched a (ten minute) video by intuitive Robert Ohotto in which he suggested something he calls the I Don’t Give a Shit (IDGAS) Detox. The basic concept is that for a week or two you stop giving a shit about whatever it is you give a shit about. If you want to take it a step further, you write down your reactions to not giving a shit. Like, That felt nice to not give a shit about what other people think about my hair, or Maybe I should have given a shit about that noise my car was making–because now it’s broken down on the side of the road. As I understand it, the IDGAS Detox is designed to alert you to how you spend your mental and emotional energy.

Which, incidentally, you only have so much of.

I’ve thought about this a lot today, about not giving a shit. And whereas I’ll spare you all the specific incidents to which I’ve applied the wisdom of IDGAS–or, truth be told, IDGAF–I will include a short list of things I think we could all care less about. Here we go–what’s happening on Facebook, what anyone else is doing (period), whether or not someone else calls or texts you back, what other people think about anything about you, how you compare to others, and (take this one however you like) whether or not you can still get into the same pants you could in high school.

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

As I’ve thought about these things today I’ve realized I spend a lot of time worrying or being concerned about things that really don’t matter. And not that any of this is unusual or directly harmful, but it does affect exactly how much joy I experience from moment to moment, and all that adds up. Robert suggests the IDGAS Detox if you’re feeling exhausted, and I think that’s his point. If you’re getting enough sleep every night and still find yourself tired, it may be because you’re wearing yourself out with all your mental gymnastics. The ones that sound like, Everyone else has it better than I do. They’re so much richer, smarter, and more talented than I am. Or vice versa.

Give it a rest, Nancy.

Give it an IDGAS rest.

This afternoon I saw a chiropractor, a friend of mine, who uses a lot of unconventional (weird) techniques. I’m all about this sort of thing, the mind-body connection. Hell, I’m all about whatever works. My neck and shoulder have been bothering me for over six months now, so at this point I’ll try anything. Well, get this shit. When I walked in the majority of my back was, in his terms, “locked up.” In my terms, it was tense and inflexible. Thirty minutes later, it was much, much better. It was like something had let go. The best part? My friend didn’t have to crack or twist anything or do anything dramatic. Rather–and this is the weird part–he communicated with my unconscious (through muscle testing) to find out WHY my body was so uptight.

Like, “What’s your deal, Lucille?”

One of the tenants of this approach is that for each physical problem, there will be a mental/emotional component. In other words, in most cases, our bodily aches and pains don’t come out of nowhere. And whereas for me it’s tempting to think my neck and shoulder pain have to do strictly with my car accident two years ago and the fact that I’ve been doing a lot of manual labor lately, that’s a bit like thinking an appleseed can flourish into a full-grown apple tree by simply sitting on your coffee table. Of course it can’t. It needs dirt, water, and sunshine. What I’m saying is that for a physical problem to manifest (turn from a seed to a tree) in your body, it needs a particular environment in which to do so. Simply put, your thoughts and emotions are a huge part of that environment.

The good news about this: if you change the environment, you change what’s able to grow there.

According to my friend (and my unconscious), the emotion that’s related to my neck and shoulder pain is jealousy. “It’s probably not a romantic jealousy,” my friend said. Now, maybe this sounds like a bunch of crap. If so, that’s okay. I’ve thought so in similar situations in the past. But today I couldn’t truthfully say, “WHO ME? Jealous?” So instead I said, “I know exactly what kind of jealousy it is–it’s professional. It’s the thought that other people are succeeding at what they want to do and I’m not.”

“So it’s not really about all that manual labor,” my friend said.

“Well, that plays in because I don’t deep-down want to be doing all that manual labor,” I said. “I want to make the money, but I’d rather make it doing something I love.”

This wanting/not wanting, of course, is a recipe for tension both internally and externally.

With my friend’s approach, for each negative emotion that comes up, there’s also a positive one to balance it out or help remedy the situation. In my case, that emotion was delight. As an exercise, you could think jealous thoughts for a minute and see how that feels, then think thoughts of delight and see how that feels. For me, delight feels one hundred times better. When I think of things that delight me, I feel less constriction and more expansion. Freer. This is what I’ve been trying to do since this afternoon. Outwardly the rest of my day was typical–I read a book, mowed my parents’ lawn, took a shower, and began writing. But rather than adopting an attitude of pressure or obligation, I adopted one of fun and enjoyment. One of delight.

As Mary Poppins says, “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun, and–snap!–the job’s a game.”

Getting back to the IDGAS Detox, I think it’s an excellent tool to use for transforming a negative emotion into a positive one. For example, whenever I’ve been tempted this afternoon and evening to be jealous of another person’s body, work, or body of work, I’ve thought, I don’t give a shit what anyone else is doing. Likewise, I’ve thought, I don’t give a shit if I read as much today as I did yesterday. I don’t give a shit if I mow the lawn perfectly. Consequently, I’ve experienced more joy. (There, that wasn’t so hard.) At the same time–and this is the real gem–I’ve freed up a good bit of mental/emotional energy that, rather than using on things I don’t like, I can now use on things I do. Because I DO give a shit about writing, I DO give a shit about dancing, and I DO give a shit about reaching my highest potential, and these things require A LOT of energy.

My final thought about all this is that when pirate ships are caught in a storm and are “going down,” the crew throws everything overboard that isn’t absolutely necessary–cargo, supplies, anyone who’s not pulling their weight. (Sorry, Petey.) Free of the extra baggage, the ship can now stay afloat. After the storm passes, it can even sail quicker than it did before. This is what discarding negative thoughts and emotions can do for you. This is what discarding negative relationships–with friends, technology, and even your own body–can do for you. It can lighten you up. It can get you to where you’re going faster.

It can turn a job into a game.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All your scattered pieces want to come back home.

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This Powerful Ocean (Blog #833)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"It's never a minor thing to take better care of yourself."

On Rip Van Winkle (Blog #820)

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I’ve said before that I sometimes have dreams of yelling at people. Saying, “Fuck you, Nancy!” and things like that. Well, I also have daytime fantasies of telling people off, courtroom-type dramas in which I either replay a situation that happened weeks or years ago or imagine a future circumstance in which I get to tell someone to “Go to hell, Harry!” I don’t know if you do this sort of thing, but it’s fun. At the same time, it’s exhausting, since it’s like the past is never over, the future never safe.

It’s like you’re never–what’s the word?–free.

When I’ve talked to my therapist about these fantasies, we’ve agreed it’s because I’ve spent so much of my life not saying what I really feel. By trying to be everyone’s friend and get everybody to like me I’ve essentially created an imbalance. That’s what the dreams and fantasies are about, evening things out, since, really, I’m neither Mr. Nice Guy or Mr. Asshole. I’m somewhere in between I’m Fine and I’m Pissed Off As All Get Out.

We all are.

Because the pissed-off part of me refuses to go away on its own, I’ve been working on speaking up when I’m angry. Not because it’s fun or pleasant, but because, in my experience, every part of me deserves to be heard and–here’s something–staying silent doesn’t work. Well, it works if you want to make other people happy instead of yourself and–consequently–create a lot of internal anxiety, nervousness, tension, and stress. Not to mention a stomach ulcer and inauthentic relationships. Biting your tongue is great for these things. However, having tried people pleasing, biting my tongue, and being “nice” for decades and realizing (finally) that they can’t give me what I want (personal freedom, inner peace, and happiness), I’m trying something novel–honesty.

A couple examples.

Lately I’ve been posting my blogs to my Instagram account, and after I posted yesterday’s blog, someone I don’t even know, a mental health worker in Texas, commented, “Love this! Mental health is so important! Check out my profile if you’d like; I’m all about giving people the tools they need in order to get to be where they want to be!” Well, this immediately pissed me off, and not just because they used an exclamation point at the end of every sentence. I kept thinking of a business friend of mine who always says, “Build a relationship with me before you try to sell me something.” Anyway, two years ago I would have brushed the whole thing off thinking, What if I upset this person? What’s it even matter? But as I’ve said before, our emotions show up for a reason, and if we don’t listen to and honor them, we’re going to pay the price.

So I responded: “Thank you, and I agree. Also, my comments section is for conversation and isn’t intended as a billboard for total strangers to use. #boundaries”

Immediately, I felt better. And whereas part of me wondered if I ruined this person’s evening, the majority of me didn’t care. Because they showed up on my turf and started it. If they had a bad evening, they did that. Plus, and this is an important point, I wasn’t a total dick. In other words, although my pissed-off fantasies often involve name-calling and violence (and if yours don’t, you’re not being honest with yourself), I didn’t demean this person as a human or “fight dirty.” Instead, I firmly said, “I’m not okay with what you did there.”

Along similar lines, tonight my Dad and I went to Waffle House, and our waiter was, in my opinion, a little too friendly. I don’t know, I like space when I eat, and this fella was up in our grill, dancing and singing around our table. Then when he brought our ticket and Dad said he couldn’t read the small print and I said I’d help him, the waiter stood there watching and eventually said, “Are you gonna make him wait?” To which I replied, “Well, I’m waiting for to walk away.” (He did.) Why did I say this? For one thing, because I didn’t want to discuss money and this guy’s tip in front of him. For another, it was the plain, simple truth–I WAS waiting for him to walk away.

A while back I ran into someone with whom I’d had a bit of a falling out. In my mind the whole situation was a big damn deal, but, really, things were just awkward. In this respect, the running into each other was a good thing because it forced a changed in my perspective. Also, it gave me a chance to be honest. That is, when the falling out was eventually brought up by the other person, I got real serious and said, “We can talk about that if you’d like.” In response, they said, “Oh, it’s no big deal. Water under the bridge.” And whereas I was thankful they didn’t call me a bastard or throw their drink on me, I had a hard time believing it truly wasn’t a big deal, or at least a little deal. If that had been the case, they wouldn’t have brought it up.

My therapist says that most of us live our lives unconsciously. This means we’re not truly aware of our thoughts, feelings, and emotions, and THIS means we’re not truly in touch with our own behavior. Consequently, we say things like “it’s fine” and “water under the bridge” even if we don’t mean it. (Here I’m speaking from my personal experience, as I grant that I can’t know what was true for the person I mentioned above.) We play nice and bite our tongues, then wonder why our stomach hurts or why we dream about throwing things. The truth slips out in sarcastic comments and passive aggressive statements.

Remember the story of Rip Van Winkle? I read it tonight, and it’s about an unhappy, passive, “hen-pecked” husband who’d rather attend to anyone’s business but his own who falls asleep for decades. When he wakes up, his entire world has changed. There are new shops in town, his wife is dead. He’s absolutely elated–he’s finally free. Again, this is about living unconsciously versus consciously. When you’re unconscious, you “go along to get along,” you put everyone else first. When you’re conscious, you’re free, free to be yourself, whatever that looks like–happy, elated, somber, pissed-off.

Freedom is worth all the effort.

Sometimes my therapist shares helpful examples from her personal life, and recently she told me that she was involved in some difficult circumstances that required her being honest. And whereas my experience of her is that she LOVES confrontation (because she’s told me this before), she said that lately it’s been challenging. Because sometimes life is hard and doesn’t let up. “Would it be easier to roll over or let things slide?” she said. “Of course it would. But I did that for years, and I’m not going back to sleep.” Both then and now, this statement–I’m not going back to sleep–brings tears to my eyes. Because as difficult as it is to speak up, advocate for myself, and have difficult conversations, the consequences of staying silent are worse. I’ve been asleep, and it’s hell. And not that I claim to be fully awake, but, if like Rip Van Winkle, it takes me twenty years (or twenty lifetimes) to fully wake up, so be it. Having tasted freedom, I know freedom is worth all the effort.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You absolutely have to be vulnerable and state what you want.

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