Better Together (Blog #1096!)

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Dear Marcus,

It’s been a bumpy ride. Six years ago two days from now we were passed out drunk and naked, hugging a toilet seat, having just broken up with the first and only person we’ve ever thought we were going to marry. It wasn’t pretty. And boy were we wrong about him. (Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.) Anyway, it was touch and go there for a while. We didn’t know where we were going to live, how we were going to pay the rent, or how we were going to heal That Which Was Broken. We were so confused. Thankfully, only one week before all of this occurred we had our first therapy session and met our guardian angel. (Who knew angels could wear Kesha T-shirts and curse like sailors?) Which just goes to show you that Maria in The Sound of Music was right. When the lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.

Granted, there were some rough days, some hole-in-our chest moments when nothing made sense. Now we know this was simply The Mystery, The Necessary Mystery. Said another way, it was The Healing. Which is, of course, crooked as a dog’s hind leg, anything but fun, and, well, just plain gross at times. For us it meant a lot of time in therapy, completely rewiring the way we thought, getting some damn boundaries, and changing or saying goodbye to oh-so-many relationships. Also, and I’m sorry about this, it meant a lot of empty pockets.

I’ll explain.

Despite the fact that you’d done a lot of internal work three-and-a-half years ago, the powers that be weren’t quite satisfied. As it turns out, they demand the best. In other words, they want the best for us. So they did what they often do when someone they care about isn’t living up to their full potential. They make them absolutely miserable. In your case this misery pushed you to close your dance studio, sell most of your earthly possessions, and move from Fort Smith, Arkansas, to Fayetteville, Arkansas, with the intention of moving to Austin, Texas, where many people (who haven’t checked your Facebook page in over three years) still think you are. Even though you never went. Indeed, that was your plan. But not you-know-who’s plan, which is why it didn’t work out. (He always gets his way.) This is why it was a good thing you didn’t have more money than you did. Because–let’s face it–if you’d had the money you would have gone “come hell or high water” and missed out on The Opportunity.

Because you’re so damn stubborn.

Also, don’t worry. Stubbornness is a good thing. Because life isn’t for sissies. It just means that you don’t always have the most patience. Like someone recently told you, “You’re happy to give God the reigns, but if he hasn’t done anything with them in ten minutes you take them back.”

(Correct.)

Getting back to your move to Fayetteville, that obviously didn’t work out either, and I know that few adult men would be thrilled about moving back in with their parents. Which you had to do. But again, this was by design. As you’ve told a number of people these last three years, it’s given you a chance to mend, heal, and grow relationships you couldn’t have otherwise. It’s given you a chance to be understanding. And to be understood. And whereas it’s tempting to think you’ve somehow missed out on life because you haven’t spent the last three years making a shitpot full of money or “being like everybody else,” the things you’ve busied yourself about are the things that really matter and make life WORTH living. The things that matter to your soul and the things that make you fully human.

So never regret getting to know me.

Please.

It’s worth every minute.

I promise.

Speaking of the last few years and specifically what you’ve done with and through this blog, I couldn’t be more proud of you. I realize it hasn’t set the world, or even the internet, on fire, but it has set us on fire. Again, this is what matters. For us, this has been the royal road, the way, The Path. The Path out of suffering. The Path back home. Sure, you didn’t have any idea what you were getting yourself into when you sat down three years ago tomorrow and wrote your first post, but I did. Additionally, through both your best days and your most challenging days, your–what’s the phrase you use?–that-makes-my-ass-want-buttermilk kind of days, I’ve been cheering you on and nudging you forward. Darling, don’t give up. Don’t you dare give up. I’m waiting for you.

I know this hasn’t been easy. I also know that you’re not quite sure where to go from here. There’s a part of you that wants to hang on to this project that’s been so good for us. And still there’s another part that’s so effing ready to let go, so excited to see what’s next that you can hardly wait to hit Publish and move on. Allow all your feelings, but lean into this second part. Get excited. You’ve worked your ass off here, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Congratulations! Celebrate. Your life’s not over, it’s only just beginning. What’s more, although I know you often think and believe that you try, try, try and get nowhere, all your hard work has actually paid off. It continues to pay off. You read all those damn books about healing, and now you’re one of those people those books talk about. Yes, we know things aren’t perfect, but you’re headed in the right direction. So keep going. And just know that you’re already a success story.

You know those magical days when you wake up and you can see it, feel it, almost taste it? Those days when you absolutely know that you’re exactly where you need to be, learning and doing what you need to be learning and doing? Those days when you know nothing is an accident, that the people who are in your life, all those wonderful friends, teachers, and mentors, were sent to you for a reason? That you were sent to each other for a reason? Those days when you can feel in your bones that nothing is random? Well, keep thinking these things, keep believing these things. You’ll doubt at times, of course, since that’s what the mind does here on planet earth. But know that I never do. My faith in you and The Way of It is rock solid.

My faith in us is rock solid.

So keep your chin up.

You know that Joseph Campbell fella you’re so madly in love with? He said, “Schopenhauer said that when you go through life, this character appears, that character appears, and it all seems accidental at the time it is happening. Then when you get on in your sixties or seventies and look back, your life looks like a well-planned novel with a coherent theme. Things have happened, you realize, in an appropriate way. Incidents that seemed to be accidental, pure chance, turn out to be major elements in the structuring of this novel. Schopenhauer says, ‘Who wrote the novel? You did.'” I couldn’t agree more. Things have happened in an appropriate way. But it’s not that you wrote the novel, it’s that I did. We did. So from here on out, just know that you have a partner in all this.

No one is alone, and that includes you.

Going forward, I’m not discouraging you from planning. I know you like to do that. And yet, as you’ve come to see time and time again, sometimes the best things aren’t planned. What’s more, sometimes what you think are the worst things turn out to be the best things. Because they put us on the path back to ourselves. Really, this is the only path there is. The only game in town, it’s the pearl of great value, the true buried treasure, the kingdom of heaven. So it’s worth all the time, pain, and heartache and whatever you have to give up in order to find it. It’s worth all The Hard Work, all the icky emotions and past experiences you have to dig through and sort out, and all the judgment you have to endure from others and yourself. Because when it’s all said and done, what profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his own soul?

All this to say, Marcus, please stay open to what’s coming down the pike. Please stay open to, and expect, miracles. They happen. And are kind of God’s thing. Also, please remember the he/she/it is rather fond of you. Just like I’m rather fond of you. I mean, good lord, you’re a knockout, you’re smart as whip and have a killer personality and sense of humor (although I know your family may disagree, but, in the words of your father, they have to live with you), and you have a good rear end to boot. What’s not to love? Said another way, what more do you want?

(Some cash would be nice.)

Relax, already. It’s coming. We’re in the middle of a recession.

But seriously, you’ve been given everything you need to succeed. And whereas this has always been the case, now that you’ve walked the royal road, you know it. Deep down. What’s more, now that you’ve come to know yourself, things are going to get easier. The next half of your life is going to look so much different than the first half. So much better. Not that you’ll never face another challenge again–you certainly will–but you’ll handle things better. With more grace. There will be a steadiness about you that you didn’t have before, a confidence, an internal anchor. A part of you that knows that, come what may, I have what it takes and am going to be all right. And just know that if the world ever gets to be too much, you can always reach out and find me. You can sit down at this keyboard ANY TIME YOU’D LIKE, and we can fix whatever it is together. Or just call my name, and I’ll come running.

That is if I don’t call you first. Which, honestly, I probably will. Because, Marcus Anderson Coker, I’m not done with you yet. Plus, I’ve always called you first, since it’s kind of my job to pursue you. You see, Darling, I just can’t stand to be without you. Without us. We are, after all, better together than we are apart. Surely by now you agree.

With all my love,

Your heart (your sweet heart)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You really do belong here.

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Here’s to You (Blog #1095)

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Tonight’s blog is #1095 in a row and is my next to last. I’m smiling in tonight’s photo, but I’m not happy. Or at least if I am I’m a lot of other things too–sad, overwhelmed, confused, cranky. And tired. I’m tired. Of putting so much time and attention into this project. Of staying up way too late to work on it. Even when I’ve been sick. Of trying to find the right words. Of reading everything I’ve written at least four times a night in order to make sure it’s good enough, the whole time imagining it’s not. Most of all, I’m tired of doing it all alone. Of always being the strong one.

Granted, there’s a part of me that knows I’m not alone in all this. For the last six years I’ve been supported professionally by a kickass therapist, a woman who’s not only been my solid rock but has also taken my calls at all hours of the day and night. Likewise, a number of other professionals have been there for me throughout my healing process these last three years, giving me good information and even holding me while I’ve cried. Plus, I’ve had the support of my family and friends. The especially lovely part about this being that although most of them haven’t (I imagine) fully understood my journey or chosen to walk a similar path, they have nonetheless cheered me on.

My original thought for tonight’s blog was to address my readers, anyone who’s read this blog on a regular basis or has happened to peruse it even once. However, writing the entire blog “to you,” someone I can’t see right now, seems odd. Forced, I guess, because I’m so used to writing “to me.” Indeed, although over the last three years I’ve often said things like–dear reader, you, we, and us–I’ve primarily considered these ways to address myself. Not because I have multiple personalities, but because from the beginning this blog has been a form of self-therapy. Meaning that it’s been my way to work myself into a better place, so any advice I’ve given has been first and foremost for me. If it’s helped others, good. But what I know for certain is that it’s helped me.

More and more, this is enough.

No one else can save you.

Along these lines, anyone who sits down at a keyboard by themselves every day for three years could easily drive himself crazy–if he thinks he’s doing it for someone else, if he’s looking for a certain response or reception, or if he doesn’t find the work satisfying in and of itself. Thankfully, although in the beginning I imagined a different reception than the one I got, I’m satisfied now. Not because of what someone else has said or not said about this work, but because it’s been my salvation. Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. Or with a keyboard and a box of Kleenex. Whatever it takes. But this is what I’ve discovered. Others can support you, but no one else can save you. That’s your job. Your hard work has your name on it for a reason.

This sucks, I know.

Getting back to addressing my readers, I’d be remiss if I weren’t absolutely clear. I deeply appreciate anyone and everyone who’s spent even five minutes of their time reading my work, my inner world. Because no one owes me their time or attention. No one. If I’ve received it, whether I knew about it or not, it’s been a gift. A gift that humbles me and, no matter how much I try, one I really can’t wrap my head around. Perhaps because I’m so often hard on myself and think nothing is ever good enough, I especially don’t understand, and therefore can’t fully appreciate, the gift I’ve been given by those of you who’ve read–oh my gosh–every single post. Truly, I’m dumbfounded and speechless. As someone who often thinks that others don’t notice him or that his work isn’t impactful, you strongly encourage me to think and believe otherwise.

Thank you.

As a words-of-affirmation person, I’m particularly grateful to those of you who’ve liked, shared, or commented on my posts, as well as those of you who’ve sent private messages or emails over the last few years to tell me specifically how you’ve been encouraged by my journey and/or my words. A few names and faces come to mind, and I can’t tell you what a heartening thing it’s been to receive your kindness at the most random times and places. Truly, you’ve lifted me up, and I’ve felt your love across the miles. So please know how powerful you are. Your voice–yes, your voice–can offer someone hope, give them strength to keep going, and turn their life around for the better.

My therapist says that when she was growing up she was constantly told by her family, “Everything you touch turns to shit.” Well, 1) I strongly disagree, and my life is proof to the contrary, and 2) clearly even the people who know us the best are often wrong about us. Growing up, I heard, “Marcus, if you had a brain you’d be dangerous.” And whereas that used to bother me, now as an adult, I know it was just someone else’s shit. Still, messages like these get engrained, and I’ve spent a lot of time over the years thinking I was a fuck up, not good enough. All this to say that just as positive messages can have an impact on someone’s life, so can negative ones. So, again, you’re powerful.

Use your power wisely.

And don’t let anyone else tell you you’re anything less than a walking miracle.

You’re more supported than you know.

Coming full circle, at the beginning of tonight’s blog I said I was feeling all the feelings, especially tired. In today’s world, I imagine you’re tired too. In addition to the global pandemic (as if that weren’t enough), I know many of my dear friends and family are fighting their own health battles, watching their loved ones fight theirs, or both. Or just going through hell on a unicycle, slowly. (Please keep going.) And whereas one person can never know exactly what another is dealing with, as much as I can, I understand. I understand being exhausted, I understand wanting to give up, and I understand believing that you’ve tried everything but nothing works, damn it. Alas, as far as I can tell, The Path will always wear you out, kick your ass, and, at some point, make you cry uncle. Put your foot upon it anyway. Not only will you be better for it, but we need you on the other side of it. What’s more, you’re stronger than you think, are more supported than you know, and are deeply loved even when you don’t feel it.

So take heart. Many people, myself included, are cheering you on.

Here’s to you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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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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If anything is ever going to change for the better, the truth has to come first.

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We March Forward (Blog #1089)

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This morning I woke up a full two hours before my alarm went off. Feeling crappy. And whereas I thought it was probably due to the fact that I was fasting and hadn’t eaten in over thirty-six hours, I convinced myself I had COVID-19. Oh my gosh, y’all, it was awful, just imagining going into the kitchen (and touching every doorknob along the way) to take my temperature, discovering I had a fever, then spending the whole day aching and hacking. And giving “the lung eater” to my elderly parents, of course. If they die, my sister will kill me, I thought. Anyway, not wanting to find out I’d won the coronavirus lottery, I just lay in bed for over an hour. In terror.

Finally, I convinced myself to get up and take my temperature. Y’all, it was 97.1. Not even close to a hundred.

So I celebrated (and broke my fast) with coffee and oatmeal and a banana, and shortly thereafter felt fine. Just like any other day. When I told my sister about how terribly this virus is affecting us hypochondriacs (not the mention the people that actually have it), she said, “Boo for paranoia.” This afternoon I saw my chiropractor who works with emotions, and when I told his wife about my scare this morning (I, along with the rest of the world, clearly don’t have much else to talk about these days), she said, “Isn’t the mind a powerful thing?”

“Yeah,” I said, “it can really scare the shit out of you.”

God knows I’ve scared the shit out of myself so many times it’s not even funny. (Okay, it’s a little funny.) What’s the Mark Twain saying? “I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” Amen. For all the physical illnesses I’ve dealt with over the years, no illness has been as bad as my fears about how long whatever it was would last, or if it would come back again. Well, okay, that stomach virus I had for ten days was pretty awful. But still, even at the worst of it, there was a part of me that was okay, that knew what to do. That’s the thing, we always have an inherent wisdom that knows how to survive in times of crisis. Cancel your appointments, it says. Drink lots of fluids. Get some rest and try not to shit the bed.

The good news is that as I’ve consciously worked to resolve and heal my past dramas and traumas, clean up my relationships, and cultivate peace, self-awareness, and self-acceptance, my tendency to awfulize has seriously decreased. Not that I can’t get worked up at times, especially during, I don’t know, a pandemic, but it’s not as often and doesn’t last as long as it used to. I’m just more calm.

Honestly, I imagine this is one of the reasons people don’t work on their interior more. (I’ll explain.) It’s jarring. What I mean is that when you’ve spent decades being nervous, anxious, worried, fearful, frightened, and distressed, you start thinking that’s who you actually are. Not that it’s particularly fun, but it’s familiar. Comfortable. If you do happen to catch a glimpse of peace while praying, meditating, receiving Reiki, or even skydiving (no kidding, it’s way peaceful), you pass it off as a fluke, never imagining that kind of stillness could be your new normal. But if it were to become your new normal, of course, you’d have to say goodbye to the old you, the false you, and that’s a tough thing to do.

Because we like our personas (a word that originally meant “mask”).

As far as I can tell, The Path, the personal growth path or the spiritual path, is largely about stripping away that which is not true, all the false layers we’ve added to ourselves over years in order to keep ourselves safe. The problem being, of course, that because many of the layers get put on by us, or even for us, at such an early age, we truly don’t know any different. We feel or act neurotic and think, This is just the way I was born. And yet it appears that this is another lie we tell ourselves, another fib we construct to keep from seeing whatever world we’ve constructed tumble and fall.

For me, a lot of growth and progress has come from the thought, Maybe I was wrong about that. In other words, maybe the world isn’t such a scary place, and maybe people, and God and the universe, are kinder than I ever imagined. Likewise, a lot of growth and progress has come from the thought, Maybe I was wrong about myself. Maybe I’m more talented, strong, courageous, beautiful, important, and necessary than I ever gave myself credit for. Maybe we all are. Granted, there are those whose egos are TOO inflated who might not benefit from this line of thinking, but even in these cases it seems that the real issue is the lack of awareness about one’s true and inherent value. (Thus all the posturing.) Accordingly, it’s my encouragement that if you have a judgment about yourself or the world that’s causing you pain, that you become ever more willing to be wrong about it.

What’s the saying? I’d rather be happy than right.

Something I’d like to be wrong about, and indeed am in the process of trying to be wrong about, is the idea that my body isn’t capable of relaxing, feeling good, and healing. Said another way, I’m hoping to find out that the fear I have around something going wrong or catching a worldwide virus is unnecessary. Granted, I’ve made a lot of progress on this topic. I’m not nearly as high-strung as I used to be. But, as with all things, it’s a process. Ugh. We imagine that our futures HAVE to look like our PASTS. But this is ridiculous. Because what would be the point if we simply STAYED THE SAME from womb to tomb? That’s right, dear reader, there wouldn’t be a point. And so it seems we’re meant and intended to grow, evolve, change, and transform for the better. This is the way of it. However slowly, however reluctantly, we march forward.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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One day a change will come.

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Nobody Wants to Deal with Hairballs (Blog #1050)

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Hum. All day I’ve been dragging ass, fighting to keep my eyes open, and now that it’s midnight-thirty I’m wide awake. Surely it doesn’t have anything to do with all the coffee I drank this afternoon and evening. Who knows? Life is a mystery.

Speaking of mysteries, let’s talk about hair loss. (Why, Marcus?) Because this afternoon I fished a huge glob of hair (about the size of a baby raccoon) out of my shower drain. And whereas there was once a time–back when I had short hair–that I NEVER had to do this, now I have to do this on a regular basis. Shower drain hair extraction. Indeed, now that my hair is shoulder length I pull hair clumps out of my drain, hair brush, hair dryer brush, and carpet constantly. Ugh. Our bodies are so strange.

They shed, they molt, they fall apart.

For some reason I can’t get the image of that hair clump out of my head. (The inside of my head, I mean, since I obviously already got the hair clump out of the outside of my head.) I think because the actual clump so clearly demonstrated the idea of buildup. Like, for days and weeks I was losing hair in the shower, and it was slowly but surely collecting in the drain. And whereas it was keeping the water from draining optimally, I didn’t notice until today. Until everything got to be “too much.” Alas, isn’t this usually the case? We gain five pounds a year and think it’s not a big deal. Two decades later we wake up wondering what the hell happened. Likewise, we ignore our traumas and dramas, insisting we’re over them. Then “all of a sudden” we find ourselves constantly anxious, stricken by panic attacks, addicted.

Or worse.

I don’t know, we live in a Bandaid society, an “it’s fine, I’m fine” society. Like, the worst happens, and we’re so focused on “getting back out there” as soon as possible, keeping a stiff upper lip. For the last six years I’ve been focused on healing through therapy. For the last three years I’ve been focused on healing through this blog. And whereas I’ve spent the majority of this time wishing I were on the other side of this work (so that I could be OUT THERE doing something else like making money or being noticed), lately I’ve been really appreciating the opportunities I’ve been given to slow the fuck down and pull the hairballs out of my mental, emotional, physical, familial, relational, and spiritual drains. To be IN HERE. So that the rest of my life can run more smoothly.

So that things can get better instead of keep getting worse.

Looking back, I can see that my body’s been asking me to pump the brakes and clean things up for a while now. Like, decades. Alas, I was more inclined to push, push, push past the internal and external pain. To use a Bandaid, a pill, a cigarette. You know, we think that if we tell ourselves something isn’t a big deal long enough, it won’t be. And yet it always is. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet, and a big deal is a big deal even if you call it a little deal. Sooner or later we all face the music. Sooner or later we all sit down to a banquet of consequences (Robert Louis Stevenson). Sooner or later we all sit down to our lives.

One thing I know about cleaning out your shower drain is that even if it’s gross (and it is), it’s worth it. Recently I tried a new therapy thing and ended up crying, weeping, and wailing about things that happened twenty-five, thirty-five years ago. (My dad’s arrest, our house fire.) Not because I never mentally accepted that these things happened, but because–apparently–I never emotionally accepted that they did. What I mean is that MY BODY internalized my reaction to these events rather than externalized it. (And never forgot it, either.) Thankfully, now this reaction has been expressed. Sure, it was gross, but it was also cathartic and–what’s more–freeing.

Now it’s done. Really over.

If you’d known what to do, you would have.

There’s an idea in self-help that we’re all doing the best we can with what we’ve got. To me this means that although NOW I can look at my younger self and see that the push, push, pushing, the pills (by the way, I’m talking about Tylenol, not Oxy), and the cigarettes weren’t THE ANSWER, they were all I had at the time. Back then I didn’t have therapy or this blog or any of the other wonderful things I’ve discovered, well, in my thirties. This is the way of it. We learn as we go. All this to say that, please, don’t give yourself shit for not cleaning out your drain sooner. For one thing, hairballs are gross. Nobody WANTS to deal with them. For another, if you’d known WHAT to do, you would have. So keep pressing forward. Keep learning and keep healing. And remember–

We shed, we molt, we fall apart. We begin again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sure, we forget it plenty of times, but on the inside we’re all shining. This is what gives me hope, knowing that we are all radiant.

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In the Valley of the Shadow of Death (Blog #1027)

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This afternoon I saw my upper cervical care doctor, and we talked about the healing process. Thinking about the sinus infection I’ve been fighting for the last three weeks, I said, “I could use a little pep talk.”

“How long have you been coming here?” he said.

“Two months,” I replied.

“Okay,” he said. “Hang in there. There’s a reason you’re not on a two-month plan. [I’m on a twelve-month plan.]”

Then he showed me a “road to recovery” graph drawn by one of the people who developed upper cervical care (I think). “The top, mostly horizontal line is normal health,” he said. Then he pointed to a line that dipped significantly downward and said, “This was your health before coming here. Things would improve now and then, but overall they were headed south.”

Into the valley of the shadow of death, I thought.

Next he pointed to the bottom of the valley, where the declining line began to slowly climb upwards back to normal (as indicated by the–eekk–“exceptional chronic case” line below). “At two months we’ve got you going in the right direction,” he said, “but you’re still down here. Your posture’s changed because we’ve forced it to. [Get a linebacker to twist your neck around* and see if your body doesn’t respond.] You’re seeing improvements, but it usually takes three to four months for your nervous system to begin working and integrating with your immune system. THAT’S when we typically see the most dramatic results, and that’s when YOU should notice a difference in your sinuses and things like that.”

Fingers crossed.

*To be fair to my doctor, this isn’t exactly what happens. For an in-depth and less dramatic description of what DOES happen, read here.

So I’ve thinking about this graph this evening, about being in the valley of the shadow of death. Not just in health terms, but also in symbolic terms. What I mean is that there are so many times in our lives when things are going down, down, down, getting darker and darker and darker. Like we would if we were playing a game of limbo, we think, How low can I go? But then by some grace we reach–to borrow a phrase I used yesterday–a turning point. One day we see a therapist, get a new doctor, pick up a book, start a class, or hell, get married or divorced. Regardless, we think, Okay, I may not be out of the woods yet, but at least I’m not going any deeper into them.

Having struggled with sinus issues for decades, I can’t tell you how much I HOPE that one day they will be a thing of the past. Or at least be less frequent, more manageable. Technically, I guess they are. Despite the fact that they’ve reared their ugly heads (in my head) lately, they’re not as bad as they used to be. Still, my point is that for all my hoping, I also find the notion that they COULD be significantly better a little hard to believe. Just because that hasn’t been my experience. Ugh. It’s the damndest thing. We WANT better health, better relationships, better finances, and yet it’s difficult to truly envision them for ourselves because we naturally project that our future will be not all too dissimilar from our past. This is why we NEED others who are NOT where we are but are rather where we want to be to keep reminding us that other realities are possible, that–I promise–your viewpoint will change when you’re not in the valley.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A mantra: Not an asshole, not a doormat.

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A Lot Can Happen in 80 Days (Blog #1015)

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Last night after finally posting the blog at 3:30 in the morning I figured I’d fall right to sleep. Well, wouldn’t you know it, I got a burst of energy and was up until 5:30, scrolling on my phone, thinking, thinking, thinking, and talking to Jesus. You know, because he’s always awake. Anyway, I thought, Maybe I’m healing, maybe my sinus infection is going away. But damn if I didn’t wake up this morning still hacking and coughing. This being said, I have had more pep in my step today and haven’t thought about being sick nonstop. So who knows what’s happening?

Jesus, that’s who.

Six weeks ago I wrote about my first upper cervical care treatment, upper cervical care being concerned with your atlas, the topmost vertebrae in your spinal column. (Why be worried about your atlas, Marcus?) Because your brainstem, which is like Command Central for your body, runs THROUGH your atlas and can be negatively impacted if your atlas is misaligned. Make a circle with your thumb and index finger and think about running a straw or water hose through it. Then think about what would happen if you tilted your finger circle in such a way that it clamped down or put pressure on the straw or water hose. What would you have?

Problems, that’s what. Less “flow.”

All this to say that when my doctor took x-rays of my neck back in November (pictured below on the left), my atlas was tilted way wrong. “We want it to be at an angle of 8 to 10 degrees,” he said, “and yours is at 3.4. Additionally, we’d like your neck to be curved like a banana, but yours is straight as a board.”

“Yeah, it looks like a cucumber,” I said.

Anyway, for the last six weeks I’ve been being treated (or not treated if my doctor determines that my correction has “held”) once a week. Last week we took x-rays to see how I’m improving (or if I am), and today–today!–I found out the results (pictured below on the right). Y’all, in a nutshell, they were nothing short of miraculous. These were my doctor’s words, not mine. First, my atlas is now sitting at an angle of 10.5, almost perfect. Second, my cucumber neck looks more like a banana. “It’s almost textbook,” my doctor said. “I’d like to see your top curve just a bit more, but your bottom is superior. [I’ve been told that before, I thought.] But even if we don’t get any more improvement–and we should–I’m THRILLED with where you are.”

I just stood there with my mouth open, amazed, at the same time thinking about my sinus infection.

“To come this far in this short of time really is phenomenal,” he said. “It means your body is responding really well.”

My doctor said that because your nervous system directly influences or controls your immune system, it’s possible that somewhere down the line my body will be able to fight off sinus infections on its own. “Not that you’ll never get one,” he said, “but instead of it lasting a month, maybe it’ll only last a few days. Because when your nervous system is operating properly, it should be able to ADAPT [to fight off bacteria, etc.].” Then he added, “It’s just going to take some time to get there. Your brainstem has been under pressure for a long time, and it has a lot of repair work to do. But hang in there. Usually people start seeing really wonderful results around the three or four month mark.”

Okay, I thought. Hang in there, Marcus. We have a lot of repairing to do.

The four month mark, that’ll be about the time I’m wrapping up this blog project. Tonight’s blog is #1015 in a row, and that means that after tonight I only have 80 more posts to go, 1095 days being three solid years. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately–THE END. And whereas part of me can’t wait to get there–like, I did it, now let’s drink a beer and take a nap–another part me of me, I know, will miss this. Because this is where I’ve found myself and where I continue to find myself. This is where I’ve learned to like me, my life, and life in general MORE. I guess it feels like these sweet moments are running out, and I’d just like to hold on a little longer.

Getting back to upper cervical care, even though I’ve ALREADY experienced such great results with it (my headaches are WAY better, my posture’s improved, my shoulder pain is all but gone), it still scares me. I think, What if I get to the three or four month mark and something still hasn’t healed? Ugh. We’re so programed to think, What if something goes WRONG? And yet more and more I’m learning to think, What if something goes right? What if I experience a(nother) miracle? What if THE END of the blog is THE BEGINNING of something ELSE that’s wonderful? I think of that book by Jules Verne and tell myself, Wait a minute. A lot can happen in 80 days. You can go around the world.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Beating yourself up is a far cry from self-respect."

Trust That Answers Are Coming (Blog #980)

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Today I finished reading three books–Esoterism & Symbol by R. A. Schwaller de Lubicz, The Hanged Man: Psychotherapy and the Forces of Darkness by Sheldon Kopp, and The Power of Your Other Hand: A Course in Channeling the Inner Wisdom of the Right Brain by Lucia Capacchione. And whereas I only this week started the first two books, I started the third one over a year ago. Alas, it’s sat on my shelf collecting dust since last summer, just waiting for me to notice it. Well, today was the day. I can’t tell you how good it felt to finally be done. And yes, I know that I didn’t HAVE to finish it. But I genuinely wanted to, was actually interested in what it had to say.

I’ve talked about divine timing before, and I continue to be amazed by it. While reading the book I just mentioned, I noticed several things made sense to me that wouldn’t have made sense to me a year ago. Better said, several things STOOD OUT to me that wouldn’t have before. But they did stand out because of other books I’ve read over the past year. I kept thinking, Oh, there was a reason I didn’t pick you back up until today. I wasn’t ready for you yet.

This evening I had dinner with a friend (we’d planned on going out this weekend but at the last minute decided to go tonight) and told them of my recent and positive results with upper cervical care. When they asked HOW I found out about this healthcare modality, I credited a dancer friend (whom I honestly don’t talk to very often) who mentioned online their positive results with upper cervical care (that they received over ten years ago). And whereas I can’t say what’s going to happen or not happen over the next few months in terms of my healing, I can say that based on how much I’ve improved in the last two weeks (I truly feel like my innate healing powers have been given back to me), this whole setup is what I’ve been praying and waiting for.

By setup I mean–I don’t think any of this has been accidental.

Getting back to the idea of divine timing, I’m astounded by what all had to happen or not happen in order for me to find out about this form of treatment. Fifteen years ago my friend and I had to meet. Ten years ago my friend had to be sick and–God knows how–find her doctor. Earlier this year my friend and I had to reconnect. And then there’s what had to happen to get my doctor close enough that I could drive to him, since he used to be located much farther away, like the only other two people in the state who do what he does. Anyway, I could go on but won’t. I just keep thinking that answers are being lined up for us LONG before we even ask our questions. I just keep thinking that it doesn’t make much sense for me to try to tell the universe how to do its obviously complex job.

Because it’s doing just fine.

When I wasn’t reading today, I was tidying up my room. My therapist says when you’re feeling SCARCITY, one way to feel ABUNDANCE is to give something away. “It doesn’t have to be a lot,” she says. “It could be a dollar, a t-shirt, a hour of your time. Anything to get the energy flowing.” So that’s what I did, picked out stuff to donate–several shirts, a pair of shoes (the too-big ones I tore my ACL in), a handful of books I’ll either never read or never read again. Let someone else enjoy them, I thought. Then I went through my “paper pile” and threw this in the trash, filed that in a folder. Then I reorganized a few shelves in my closet. You know how one thing leads to another.

I wish I could tell you WHY I felt compelled to tidy up my room today or–as I’ve been doing recently–clean up my Facebook friends list. My therapist says any cleaning out makes room for other things to come along, so maybe that’s it. Maybe a part of me knows that this blog is coming to a close and–at the same time–my body is mending, so I just need more “room,” more health for whatever is coming next. But this is speculation. I can’t say why anything happened today, just like I can’t say why the sun rose this morning. I only know that it did, it was right on time, and it was perfect. More and more I know it’s not my job to know why. Rather, it’s my job to follow my inner guidance, that voice that says, “Check out that doctor. Read this book, not that one. Go to dinner now, not later.” It’s my job to be patient, trust that answers are coming, and enjoy the mystery of it all.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be more discriminating.

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Don’t You Give Up (Blog #971)

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Okay, let’s just get right to it. This last weekend I felt like hell. Saturday I had a headache all day, and yesterday my neck hurt, my shoulder felt hot, and my lower back was locked up. This morning when I stumbled out of bed I felt every bit of my thirty-nine years and then some. And whereas I realize this could be read as complaining, it’s simply the truth.

These are the facts.

Whenever I feel this way (like a bag of ass), it’s extremely frustrating because despite my best efforts, not only are my physical problems continuing, they’re apparently getting worse. Month by month and year by year it seems there’s SOMETHING ELSE that’s not quite working right. Last summer my stomach started acting up. Since then, I haven’t been able to breathe as well. For a while now my ribs have felt constricted. Every time I breathe deeply, they hurt or my shoulder does. I’ve talked to multiple medical doctors, chiropractors, physical and massage therapists, and acupuncturists, but no one’s been able to help me significantly. The most recent medical doctor I asked about headaches said, “Posture has a lot to do with that.” And whereas I don’t disagree with that statement, no amount of posture correction techniques, including physical therapy exercises, yoga, pilates, stretching, bioenergectis, myofascial release, and chi kung, have changed my condition. I try and try to get my body to stand straight and “do right,” but I’m still in pain. One chiropractor–a doctor and self-professed “really smart” man–told me, “You’re an anomaly.”

He still took my money, of course.

I could go on and on about this topic and know I have in the past. Suffice it to say that it’s VERY DISHEARTENING to not only be faced with a physical challenge, but also to do everything you know to do to find an answer (talk to experts, read a ton of books, pray) and still come up with peanuts. Personally my biggest challenges have been sinus infections and headaches, and I know that they’ve often left me feeling quite hopeless. Indeed, there have been times that I’ve cried out to whoever’s listening up there for help and felt like I was totally ignored or–worse–completely unloved. Tylenol takes the edge off my headaches, but nothing takes the edge off this, the feeling like you’re all alone in the universe, that God’s left you twisting in the wind.

Recently I heard that a prayer heaven always answers is one that sounds like this. Dear God, I don’t care what it takes or how you turn my life upside down, but get me out of this pattern (of illness, of unhealthy relationships, etc.) Well, this is a bold prayer, of course, since you’re giving the gods permission to do what they want with your life, but–let’s face–they’re going to anyway. So you better bet I’ve been praying that prayer. Help, Lord, I want out.

I wish I could tell you that I’ve had unshakable faith that my prayer would be answered. And yes, I know that “no” and “not now” are valid answers from heaven. Sometimes we simply don’t get what we want. Sometimes, especially when it comes to physical problems, we don’t get relief until we die. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Will I simply have to suffer with this until I kick the bucket? If so, am I strong enough to do that? Because one day of solid pain is bearable, but day after day for decades? I can’t imagine. That’s one positive thing that’s come out of my hurting these last few years. For the rest of my life, I’ll hold increased compassion for anyone who feels like they’re up against a wall and getting nowhere. If this is you, I understand. My heart goes out to you.

Also, hold on. Your story’s not over.

One thing I say a lot is that God works in mysterious ways. Well, get this shit. Several weeks ago I posted about ANOTHER sinus problem I was having, and a friend of mine (whom I met through dance nearly twenty years ago and only this year reconnected with) said she used to be in the same boat but that something called Upper Cervical Care had helped. “I don’t remember the last time I had an infection,” she said. Well, for all my talking to experts and reading constantly, I’d never heard of upper cervical care, so I started digging around and found a doctor in Northwest Arkansas–Dr. Jackson Chism–who’s one of the three people in the state who practices it.

Here’s a link to his website, which includes an embedded video about what upper cervical care is and does.

While reading the reviews on Dr. Chism’s Facebook page, I began to cry. (This is usually my intuition’s way of letting me know that what I’m hearing is true.) People were saying they’d suffered from headaches, migraines, and fibromyalgia for years and had seen vast improvements if not complete remission of symptoms. Hopeful, I told myself I would go by his office the next time I was in Northwest Arkansas. However, weeks went by and I didn’t stop by or call. I do this sometimes, put off trying something that could help because I’ve tried SO MANY OTHER THINGS that haven’t helped and don’t want to be disappointed AGAIN. Because–if this doesn’t work, then what?

One thing I’ve been looking into and have mentioned here before is a posture and movement correction program I heard about online. Seriously, it seems really smart, really legit, the main idea being that a lot of our posture problems are caused from the BOTTOM UP. Like, we sit all day, which shortens our hip flexors, which tilts our pelvis, which causes our back to sway, which rounds our shoulders, juts our head forward, and so on. Anyway, if I had the money, I’d be on a plane tomorrow to work with one of the trainers who promotes this program. (No one does it around here.) This is part of my frustration. Like, I don’t have the money, don’t have the resources to take care of myself.

However.

Recently I’ve been going through a series by Caroline Myss and Jim Curtan about the symbology of The Wizard of Oz, and one thing it says is that Dorothy’s dog’s name in Latin (Toto) means “everything,” the idea being that from the start of her journey until its very end, Dorothy always has EVERYTHING she needs. When she clicks her heels together three times and teleports back to Kansas, Glinda the Good Witch tells her, “You could have done this all along.” So I’ve been reconsidering the notion that I need more money or need to leave the state in order to heal. I’ve been thinking, Maybe the answer’s right here.

Getting back to upper cervical care, a couple weeks ago I finally called Dr. Chism’s office. As “luck” would have it, not only was he taking new patients, but he was also running a special–x-rays with consultations before and after for under $40. “Let’s do it,” I said.

Last Monday was my appointment. I met Dr. Chism, he explained what he does (I’ll get to that part below), then he took x-rays, saying that he never makes adjustments without knowing what he’s working on first. “It’s possible I’ll look at your x-rays and determine that I can’t help you,” he said. “If that’s the case, we’d be wasting my time and yours to go any further.” Then we scheduled my next appointment.

For this afternoon.

For the last week I’ve been cautiously optimistic. Dr. Chism explained that at the base of our skull sits something called an atlas, the first “disc” of your spinal column. Then he put his thumb and first finger together and dropped a pen down the middle. “Through your atlas runs a bundle of nerves that control most everything else in your body,” he said. “But if your atlas shifts because of a car accident or something, it can pinch those nerves and cause all sorts of problems. [This is why upper cervical care can help sinus infections, apparently, because your nervous system influences your immune system.] Additionally, that shift can cause your head to lean one way or the other, and then your body will lift a shoulder or tilt a hip in order to correct the problem.” Still, despite this explanation making sense to me, again, I felt like crap all weekend and thought, I’m probably just throwing money down the drain. I’m broken. God doesn’t care, and no one can fix me.

I actually thought that this morning on my way to a meeting. But no kidding, just as I finished whining, I turned my head and noticed one of the many inspirational yard signs that have recently sprouted up around town. “Don’t give up,” it said. Then, when I arrived at Dr. Chism’s this afternoon, the lyrics of the first song that came on when I sat down in the waiting room said, “Don’t you give up on a miracle. You gotta speak to the impossible.” And whereas I’m normally turned off by offices that play “churchy” music, I took this as a direct encouragement from above.

Hold on. Your story’s not over.

The first thing Dr. Chism did with me today was go over my x-rays, which are just below. On the left you can see where the vertebrae in my neck are. The red curve, Dr. Chism explained, is where they’re supposed to be. “Ideally the top vertebrae is over the bottom one, and the ones in between curve like a banana,” he said. “Yours is straight as a board.” I said, “It feels stiff as a board.”

Other doctors have pointed out the fact that my vertebrae show signs of deterioration and bone spur calcification, but no one else has adequately explained why. “If your discs were deteriorating because of age [which other doctors have said], they’d all look the same because they’re the same age,” Dr. Chism said. “But some of yours are better than others.” Then he explained that my discs were showing signs of wear because my head is forward of my body, and my structure is trying desperately to support itself. “For every inch your head is forward, it adds ten pounds. So a ten pound head becomes a twenty or thirty pound one,” he said. “That’s why your body’s laying down new bone, in order to shore itself up.” Then he pointed to the base of my skull (where I experience the worst of my headaches) and said, “One consequence of all this is that these muscles will always be tight.”

Check.

Next we talked about my atlas, the vertebrae that’s the focus of upper cervical care. Apparently the ideal situation is for the atlas to be titled at 8 to 10 degrees, but Dr. Chism said mine was at 3.4. “The problem is that this pinches nerves and–worse–cuts off blood supply to the brain. So you might feet tired all the time [check] or begin to experience neurological symptoms [check: tremors].” We talked about the BOTTOM UP theory, but Dr. Chism said, “For you, I can definitely say the problem is TOP DOWN. Your body cares more about getting blood to your brain than it does about whether or not your hip flexors are short.”

When I asked WHY most of my issues show up on the right side of my body, Dr. Chism directed me the right x-ray, in which you can see a definite “kink” in my neck. My reaction to this and our ENTIRE conversation was consistent tears. It was like my body was confirming, “What this man’s saying is true. THIS is what we’ve been living with for years, for decades.”

“The good news,” Dr. Chism said, “is that THIS is what I do. You’ve got a lot going on, but it hasn’t progressed to the point where it’s irreversible [as would be the case if my bone spurs had actually FUSED my vertebrae together].” Then he asked if I WANTED a treatment today, and I said YES, HELL, YES. From there he walked me through getting on my knees, lying my head turned one way on a small table (about the height of an ottoman), and relaxing as much as possible. Then he felt for my atlas, placed one hand karate-chop style along the base of my skull, and with the other (I think) applied swift pressure. Inside, I heard what sounded like the cracking of a large walnut.

“I heard that,” Dr. Chism said. “They probably heard it next door.”

Y’all, that was it. Five seconds and it was over. When I got up (slowly), I was a little dizzy, and Dr. Chism walked me to another waiting room where I lay down with my head and knees supported for about 25 minutes. “Your body and nervous system need time to adjust to what just happened,” he said. Well, adjust they did. For the first–I don’t know–five to ten minutes, I cried. Then I laughed a lot. The entire time I could feel my head, neck, shoulders, hips, and legs shifting ever so slightly, tightening up, then relaxing. When Dr. Chism came back, my hands were tingling. “All of that’s normal,” he said. “It’s just your system changing.”

When I first arrived at Dr. Chism’s today, he used a particular tool to measure–I think–how the nervous system in my neck responds. I’m still not super clear on what this tool does. What I do know is that when I got there today, the graph this tool produced looked like a YELLOW S. “We want that line to be straight,” said Dr. Chism. “That’s what we’re working toward.” Well, after my adjustment and “sink in” period, my line was still curved but much straighter, as indicated by the TEAL LINE below. “It’s almost perfect,” Dr. Chism said. “For the first treatment, it’s awesome. You’re going to do really well.”

Before I left, Dr. Chism said, “If you wake up feeling awful again tomorrow, don’t be discouraged. This isn’t a one-and-done thing, and it’s going to take time to get you where we want you. [My thought: That’s okay. You don’t learn to cha cha in a day either.] Also, if you wake up feeling fabulous tomorrow, don’t get too excited. This is A PROCESS. Either way, you might be sore because as your body makes corrections, it’ll be using muscles it’s not used to using.” Then he gave me a dos-and-don’ts pamphlet, his staff took my payment and made me an appointment for next week, and I went on my merry way.

This evening I’ve continued to feel slight changes in my body, something Dr. Chism said could happen over the next two days. And whereas I’m still aware of tightness here and pain there, overall things are MUCH looser and mobile than they’ve been in a long time. Y’all, I’ve been cracked, whipped around, poked, prodded, needled, cupped, electrically stimulated, medicated, and colon cleansed. I’ve spent thousands of dollars trying to feel better and–time and time again–been frustrated. (To be clear, some things have helped, albeit not solved, my problems.) But then today happened. As I sit here now my shoulders aren’t as tight, my rib cage doesn’t hurt as much, and it’s easier to sit and stand up straight.

And here’s something–I’m happier.

As one of my chiropractors often says, things can turn on a dime.

Y’all, I realize I almost never discuss my healthcare providers by name but have gone on and on about Dr. Chism. This is simply because I am so very grateful for having met him. I don’t think it happened by accident. I also realize this is a VERY long post, one of my longest. Alas, this is a BIG subject for me both physically and emotionally, and it has a LONG history. I also want others to be as clear as possible about the process should they choose to explore upper cervical care for themselves. (It’s recommended for headaches, migraines, IBS, acid reflux, fibromyalgia, asthma, arthritis, and chronic fatigue, among other things). Still, if you skimmed down to the last paragraph, I don’t blame you. The main thing I want you to know is that more and more I believe 1) there’s always hope, 2) there’s always help, and 3) even though it may not seem like it at times, heaven is listening. We’re not in this alone. God works in mysterious ways. (Along these lines, sometimes not having enough money to do the things you want to do–and think would help you–IS an answer to prayer.) So don’t you give up. Whatever you’re going through, hold on.

Your story’s not over.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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One day a change will come.

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Before You Open the Curtains (Blog #944)

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This morning I woke up early to go to therapy and, since I hadn’t cleaned up in a few days, took a shower. That’s right, I don’t shower every day, and there’s nothing you can do to make me. But I digress. When I’d finished scrubbing myself from top to bottom, I turned off the hot water and rinsed off in only the cold. For two whole minutes. This is something I’ve been doing recently in order to give my cardiovascular system a workout. And boy does it work. As soon as the cold water hits my neck, I all but stop breathing. But then, instinctively, I take one deep breath, practically from my toes. From that point on, the water’s cold of course, but it’s like it warms up.

What’s really happening, however, is that I’m warming up. This is the point, that one’s body should be able to thermoregulate. When it’s hot out, the body should sweat in order to cool off. When it’s cold out, the body should burn fat or shiver in order to produce heat.

For me, the benefits of cold showers go beyond the physical. For decades I’ve hated the cold, hated the winter. Mostly because I spend so much time miserable. My feet can never get warm. By the time February rolls around, my toes feel like they’re going to fall off. Anyway, all of this has amounted to my developing the belief that my body is somehow weak and unable to handle the elements. I think of homeless people or cowboys who used to sleep on the range, and I affirm to myself, I could never make it out there. I’m too fragile. A delicate flower. Currently I’m listening to Stevie Nicks sing, “Can I handle the seasons of my life?” and the old me is thinking, Yes, I can rock spring, summer, and fall, but no, I can’t handle winter.

The new me, however, is starting to believe I can. I’ve been running around to antique malls today, and the weather has been frightful–dark, wet, forty-four degrees. And whereas I’d normally be bundled up like the Michelin Man, I’m not. Whereas I’d normally have the heater turned up in my car, I haven’t. Instead, I’ve dressed appropriately and have let the air run colder–sixty-eight degrees. Granted, my feet are still chilly, but the point is I’m not afraid of this coming season. I may never fall in love with winters, but I’m determined not to hate them. Because they’re part of life and so am I. Because more and more I believe I’m strong enough to handle whatever life hurls my way.

Let’s say it together.

I am not a delicate flower.

This morning my therapist said, “Marcus, you’re always saying that you’ve changed so much, but here’s the way I think about it. The real you, your authentic self, has always been on stage. It’s just that, before the lights were off, the curtains were drawn, and the front doors were locked. This is what the process of transformation really is, unlocking the doors, turning on the lights, opening up the curtains, and revealing more of who you truly are.” I like this way of thinking about things. When it comes to personal growth and reaching your highest potential, you’re not being asked to become someone you’re not. Chances are, you’ve probably already done that. Rather, you’re being asked to reveal exactly who you are underneath your society-approved-of facade–a messy, talented, emotional, beautiful child of life.

You were made from this life and for this life.

My therapist says it’s normal (well, regular–she poo-poos the word normal because–I don’t know–normal doesn’t exist, fuck normal) to live your life behind the curtains, that most people not only have the curtains drawn, but also have a barbed wire fence and an American Ninja Warrior style obstacle course between them and the people in their lives. And why wouldn’t we? Who doesn’t get the message from day one on this planet that SOMETHING is fundamentally wrong and shameful about themselves? You’re a sinner. You’re a worm. You’re a woman (just here to keep men from being lonely). You’re queer. You’re fat. You’re ugly. And therefore less than. And therefore unlovable. Lies. I’m not saying you’re perfect, but I am saying you’re just fine the way you are. I’m also saying you’re strong enough to handle what life hurls at you because you were made from this life and for this life. I’m saying we need you. I’m saying you don’t have to change a thing before you open the curtains.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The clearer you see what's going on inside of you, the clearer you see what's going on outside of you. It's that simple.

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