Paix et Travail (Blog #818)

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Six months ago today I had knee surgery to repair my ACL. And whereas I still have progress to make–things aren’t perfect yet–I’ve technically reached all my milestones and hit the “all clear” point. As of now I can jump, spin, dance, and swim. Wow. Talk about the end of a long journey. Again, there’s still work to do. This morning I walked down a steep driveway, and my left leg felt a bit wobbly. My surgeon says it will take a full year to regain my strength. But I don’t have to limit my activities anymore. Now–supposedly–my new ACL is getting good enough blood flow to be considered “healed.”

To celebrate, this afternoon I ate a cheeseburger (and fries) and went shopping. There’s a shelf in my bathroom that has an empty spot on it (oh no!), and although I rarely shop for knickknacks (at least since I had my estate sale and became a minimalist over two years ago), I thought, Maybe I can find something to put on that shelf. And whereas I didn’t find anything for my bathroom, I did end up buying a medium-sized statue for my room at a local antique store. Basically the statue is a hot (shirtless) dude holding a flag. I’d admired him a number of times over the years, but–alas–he cost more than I wanted to spend. However (thankfully?), he was much more affordable today because at some point he’d been damaged. Like, now he’s missing a finger and part of his flag pole (and yes, I mean that literally). Oh well, I thought, I had knee surgery six months ago. I understand not being perfect.

I can’t tell you how exciting getting the statue was. For one thing, I’d completely forgotten about him, so it was like a surprise. Oh yeah, I like him! For another thing, the shop owner gave me a discount off the (already less than it used to be) sticker price. Knowing there would be some savings because they had a sale going on, I said, “Oh, that’s even better than I was hoping for.” Seriously, I almost squealed. On top of all this, I had the best time talking to the shop owner, who chatted with me for over thirty minutes about some of the pieces in the store and how she got started in the business in the first place. “The banker tried to convince me that a shop like this would never make it,” she said. “That was thirty-six years ago, and we’re still standing.”

Thinking about my knee and my anything-but-perfect life, I thought, Me too, lady. Me too.

This evening I spent over an hour shuffling things in my room in order to accommodate the statue. You know how moving one thing means moving everything. No kidding, over seventy-five percent of the books and other items I had on the piece of furniture where the statue is now got rearranged. This, I think, is why people are afraid of change (in their lives, not on their shelves). Because everyone, deep down, understands that you can’t change one thing without changing it all. The example I often use is that if you develop even one ounce of self-esteem (Oh yeah, I like me!)–watch out–every relationship in your life is about to be turned upside down. Said another way, when you change the way you see yourself, you change the way you see–and interact with–the entire world.

Moving one thing means moving everything.

You can’t change one thing without changing it all.

The statue I purchased this afternoon was originally sculpted by Charles Perron and is entitled “Paix et Travail,” which is French for “peace and work.” I didn’t realize this about the title when I bought the statue, but I think it’s one of those cool universe things, since my goal here (in therapy, on this blog, and in life) is more inner peace, and I often talk about doing The Hard Work. For me, the two go hand in hand. That is, if you want real peace in your life, there’s a lot of damn effort involved. It means looking at and cleaning up your past, owning your shit, having difficult conversations, and being willing for everything in both your interior and external worlds to change. Conversely, a certain amount of inner peace, or at least inner stability, is a prerequisite for doing The Hard Work because–again–it completely shuffles your deck and cuts it in half, and you’ve got to be centered enough to say, “Even if my entire world falls apart, I’m not going to. Instead, I’m going to come together.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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The Prep and the Primer (Blog #814)

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This afternoon I helped my friend Kim start painting her kitchen. I say “start painting” because, like nearly every other damn thing in life, it’s going to be a process. (I hate that.) That being said, we made a lot of progress. Before today the entire kitchen–the walls, the baseboards, the molding–was apple green. Now only about half of it is. So even though there’s more to do, it’s clear you can get a lot done in a day.

So why not take a day and do something?

Kim said her least favorite part of painting was the prep work–scrubbing the walls clean, patching any holes. Alas, her husband, Grant, insists on “doing things right.” Personally, I agree with both of them–the prep work needs to be done, and it’s no fun doing it. Likewise, I don’t enjoy putting primer on walls, or, truth be told, the putting first coat of paint on walls. Because things still look sloppy, incomplete. No, for me, the fun part is the last coat of paint, when it all comes together. Then what REALLY thrills me is putting the room back IN ORDER, hanging pictures up and such.

Gay, I know.

The obvious point is that you can’t put pictures up without first doing the prep work, then doing the primer coat (if needed), then doing the first coat, and so on. Again, it’s a process, a process that if not “done right” is gonna be obvious. We’ve all seen rushed painting jobs before and thought, This person cuts corners.

Or is that just me who judges someone’s entire personality by how they paint a room?

Currently I’m house sitting for a friend and am in their living room. The last time I blogged here (in this particular room) was about six months ago. I remember because I’d recently injured my knee and–because my surgeon told me I didn’t need my crutches (because “you don’t need your ACL to walk”)–was re-teaching myself how to walk and negotiate stairs. Talk about things you take for granted. I remember having to lie on the ground to wiggle my pants on and off. Now, like before my accident, I can put my pants on standing up.

Don’t be jealous.

Everything worth having takes time.

This last week I was discussing my knee injury with a friend of mine who is a personal trainer and said that I have a ways to go. For example, it’s still challenging to jump using my injured leg, to use that leg to lower myself down (steps or into a chair), or to put weight on that knee. However, my friend said, “But look how far you’ve come.” Is that a wonderful encouragement or what? So often I get hung up on progress not yet made, on walls not yet painted, instead of focusing on That Which Has Been Accomplished. I want to get to The End, to the hanging pictures part, so the temptation is to half-ass, rush through, or get impatient with The Process. But if five years in therapy and two years of daily blogging have taught me anything, it’s that everything worth having takes time. Also, I’ve learned that the work that really pays off is the work that nobody sees. It’s the prep and the primer. That’s why they call it The Hard Work–because it’s tedious and boring and nobody is going to praise you for doing it (probably not even your mother). But damn if it doesn’t make all the difference.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Aren’t you perfect just the way you are?

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On Electric Park and Freedom (Blog #812)

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Several years ago while working for a local magazine, I learned about a super-cool amusement park that was located in Fort Smith from 1905 to 1920. The park was called Electric Park, a common name for such places at that time, and located where Kay Rogers Park (the fairgrounds) is now on Midland Boulevard. Then Midland wasn’t paved, and patrons of the park traveled there from downtown Fort Smith by streetcars (trolleys), which, handily enough, were owned and operated by the owners of the park, the Fort Smith Light and Traction Company.

So basically those guys were making bank.

What drew me to the story of Electric Park were the cool buildings they had there. A combination of moorish, crystal palace, and oriental onion dome architecture, they were absolutely beautiful. When I first saw a picture of one of the structures, I said, “Where is that?!” I got so excited to see it in person. Of course, the park and all its buildings were long gone. (Fort Smith tears everything down.) Still, I heard there was a book about Electric Park written by a local author, Stan Kujawa, but for years Amazon has continually said it was out of print.

Bummer.

A few weeks ago while perusing my Amazon Wish List, I saw the Electric Park book and had the bright idea that the Fort Smith Library might have a copy. Well, they did, so I checked it out and have been reading it. (During this time I also found print and digital versions of the book for purchase online.) And whereas I don’t intend this post to be a book report, since I really don’t have anything else to talk about, I’m going to share some of the book’s highlights.

In its heyday, the park had a casino, a dance hall, an auditorium that sat 2,200 people, and a roller coaster and regularly hosted vaudeville acts, orchestras, bands, and public speakers. The book by Kujawa reproduces dozens of newspaper advertisements for the park, and in one a woman named Squire Kate said that a woman’s joy in life should be her husband and children, that any woman who prefers a canine and a childless life would “frown on man and rant against the simple life of the home.” Clearly she was talking about lesbians. This is something I noticed while reading the book–that for as advanced as people were a hundred years ago–hell, the park owners were responsible for building the Midland Bridge from Fort Smith to Van Buren–they could be just as prejudiced (or more) than we are today. For example, only whites were allowed at the park.

Often people say, “We’ve come a long way.” Uh, have we? So we’ve integrated amusement parks and stopped performing in blackface, which apparently was common at Electric Park. Yes, lesbians can stay home with their dogs, and gay people can marry. These are good things. But god, we sure have taken forever to get here, and prejudice, discrimination, and mistreatment (harassment, murder) still happen. Have we really come that far? Ugh. Freedom isn’t difficult in theory. It works like this–if you can go to a park or get married, everybody can. Period, end of story. If everyone really got this, it wouldn’t take a hundred years for things to change. The world would look different by noon tomorrow.

But I digress.

On a more lighthearted note, I was tickled by many of the reproduced newspaper advertisements for the park. One advertisement encouraged readers to “come and meet the best and most refined people.” (Oh la la.) A hot air balloon was called “a big gas bag,” which I just thought was a term Grandma used for Grandpa. When the flowers were in full bloom, it was called a “pansy shower.” One of the shows brought to town in 1911 included five boxing kangaroos. Dancing was referred to as “trip the light fantastic,” apparently because dancers are “light” on their feet.

In 1920 Electric Park closed, and the buildings were torn down and sold for materials. My entire life I’ve visited the fairgrounds where Electric Park once stood and never knew its history. I’ve ridden rides there, gone to the rodeo, danced. And whereas I can imagine that it used to be a better place, certainly a prettier place than it is now, the truth is that life doesn’t change much. Buildings go up, buildings come down. Look at the photos of faces a hundred years ago, and those faces aren’t much different than ours today. People then enjoyed getting out and being amused just like we do now. They had their fears and prejudices just like we do now, except we have ours in air conditioning.

You’re the one who’s trapping you.

There’s an idea in spirituality that if you want to free the world, free yourself. Byron Katie says that freedom comes from loving the thoughts in your head. Said another way, freedom starts inside. Because if you don’t have peace inside, you’ll always feel trapped. And if you don’t recognize the fact that you’re the one who’s trapping you, you’ll blame your lack of freedom on something outside of you, another race or religion, “those people,” canine-owning lesbians, whatever. You’ll spend your entire life thinking that the world needs to change instead of realizing you do. Because, let’s face it, wanting the world, or even one person in it, to change is hopeless (absolutely hopeless). But changing yourself, freeing yourself, that’s something possible.

That’s something even a big gas bag could do.

[Images from Electric Park by Stan Kujawa.]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Sure, people change, but love doesn't."

On Advanced Decision Making (Blog #809)

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This evening I had dinner with a friend and casually mentioned a self-help concept called advanced decision making, or ADM. ADM means that, for example, rather than waiting until tomorrow morning to pick out your outfit, you do it tonight (in advance). Steve Jobs used to do this. Actually, he wore the same outfit every day. The theory behind ADM is that each of us only has so much in our mental, emotional, and creative reserves, and every decision we make–what to wear, what to eat, what to watch or listen to–depletes those reserves. (Sleep restores them). The same idea applies to willpower. How many times have you “been good” in terms of your diet all day long and ended up saying “fuck it” after dinner and having a donut?

According to this limited-reserves theory, it’s not that you weren’t a person with any willpower when you ate the donut, it’s just that you weren’t a person with any willpower at that moment–because you’d used yours up for the day. Getting back to ADM, because each decision we make drains our decision-making gas tank, the fewer decisions you have to make about things to don’t really matter (ugh–the blue shirt or the gray shirt?), the more–um–gas you’ll have for things that do.

In my experience with ADM, all of this is true. Take this blog (please), for example. In the beginning it took a lot of mental energy to make happen, but now it’s simply “a thing.” Said another way, when starting a new routine–a writing habit, a diet, an exercise routine–your mind is going to put up a fuss, especially if you’re wishy-washy about it. But once you decide in advance that “this is happening,” your mind will eventually calm down.

In terms of this blog, I know that no matter what happens every day, I’m going to write. There’s simply no question about it. The decision to write daily was made a long time ago, and until I reach my goal of three years, this is it–I blog every day. Period. End of story. No exceptions. Consequently, because I’m such a hard ass about this, I never waste an ounce of energy thinking, Will I or won’t I?, and have more energy for actual writing or anything else I choose to do.

In short, making decisions TAKES energy; made decisions GIVE energy.

Tonight I told my friend that I’m often surprised when I’m writing. There’s this idea that writers are just listeners–that we listen to our characters and that tell us who they are and “where to go,” not the other way around. Some people say this inner voice is The Muse talking or one’s subconscious. My friend said, “Well, it’s STILL YOU.” This is what I’d say to anyone who starts a new routine and later begins to put up a fuss–the person who decided to start the new routine, who made the advanced decision, is STILL YOU. Sure, maybe part of you wants to complain in the moment–I don’t want to write, I don’t want to exercise, I want a piece of cheesecake!–but this is a less mature part of you. And this is the beauty of ADM, that you don’t have to put up with your Inner Child’s whining. In other words, you get to be The Adult, the adult who says, “The decision has already been made. This discussion is over.”

And so is this blog.

Until tomorrow, of course.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

On Finding Your Way (Blog #808)

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Blah. Today has been–a day. Nothing fabulous has happened, nothing terrible has happened. This afternoon I exercised, watched four thirty-minute videos about pain, fascia, and healing, and packed up my stuff at my latest house sitting gig and came home. I took a nap. When I woke up I tried some foam rolling techniques the videos I watched suggested. I think they helped, but who knows? The healing journey can be so frustrating–trying a million different things, making a little progress here, a little progress there. Still, along The Way we learn.

For years I’ve imagined that if I ever found The Thing that worked in terms of healing, I’d shout it from the rooftops. Alas, whereas I’ve found several things that have been helpful, I’ve never found The Thing. I imagine this is because The Thing doesn’t exist. That is, what’s helpful for one person may not be helpful for another, and life doesn’t offer us panaceas. Rude, I know. Still, the silver lining is that panaceas don’t seem to required. The videos I watched this afternoon, which really were fabulous, promoted a program that costs between $500 and $900. Ugh. At that cost, who can AFFORD to heal? Thankfully, healing isn’t a lock that can only be opened by one key. At least in my experience, there’s more than one way to heal, more than one way to skin a cat.

Meow.

Lately one of my mental challenges has been trusting my path and not comparing it to someone else’s. I imagine comparison has always been a thing on planet earth, but what with social media and all, it seems to be an even bigger thing now. Unfortunately, comparing ourselves to others isn’t limited to the areas of looks and talents. Oh no, we even compare our mental, emotional, and physical well being against that of others. We think, They’re pain free, they have more peace than I do, they’re BETTER than I am. And then guess what? Whether or not those things are true (and how could you ever know that?), we’ve made ourselves inferior. We picture ourselves failures for, I don’t know, having a blah day or a pain in our back, even though we’re anything but.

Recently I read that everyone is on a different path and that sure, perhaps we all came from and are going to the same place eventually, but everything in between is a totally individual journey. As such, we each come to the the planet with a different set of looks, skills, challenges, and set of circumstances that is “right” for us and for us alone. Seen from this perspective, comparing ourselves is pointless. Why does someone else have a smaller nose, more money, and a better singing voice than you do? Because they need it for their journey. You don’t. Why are you better at math, decorating houses, and listening (it’s a skill) than someone else is? Because that’s what your path requires. Theirs doesn’t.

This is what I mean by trusting my path. It’s so easy for me to think that I need to be smarter, wiser, healthier in order to “succeed” or get to wherever I’m going–because people who are already “there” seem to be these things. Of course, this is an illusion, one I’m working on dispelling. I’m working on coming around to the idea that life fills your journey’s backpack with whatever it is you need, when you need it. I’m coming around to the idea that if I don’t yet have something, it’s not necessarily that life is keeping something from me, but rather that it’s not best for me, or best for me right now. This is difficult to do, to not only accept what comes along, but also to want what you have, to look in you journey’s backpack and say, “Okay, this is what I have to work with, and I’m going to make the best of it. I’m going to find My Way. I’m going to trust that this is enough, that I’m enough, to get me back home.”

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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The Person You Were Five Minutes Ago (Blog #806)

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What a super duper day. This morning after breakfast I went to a local bookstore and absolutely got lost. For over an hour I perused titles in nearly every section. I can’t tell you how much I love this–being around books, recognizing familiar titles and authors, learning new ones. I don’t even have to buy anything. That being said, I did walk away with two books (for two dollars total), one on metaphysics and one on Greek gods and heroes. Plus, I wrote down several interesting titles to possibly check out later. Ugh. There are so many books to read. An abundance. And whereas I used to be overwhelmed because I couldn’t read them all, now I figure, as one friend says, I’ll get what I need when I need it.

Or–I’ll read what I need when I need it.

This afternoon I saw my chiropractor, and he took an x-ray of my neck, which has been bothering me for months. Really, since the car accident I was in nearly two years ago. Anyway, he thought I might have degenerative disc disease or possibly a bone spur. And whereas the x-ray showed more advanced signs of wear and tear than is normal for someone my age (some degeneration, early arthritis, and mild bone spurs), there wasn’t anything majorly wrong. So that’s good. What’s even better is that from the time he mentioned that he wanted to x-ray me all the way through today’s diagnosis, I didn’t freak out and didn’t worry like I normally would. Likewise, I haven’t been freaking out about money as much lately. These are signs of progress, things that remind me, Hey, I really am changing. I’m not the person I used to be.

This evening I went to dinner and hung out with my friends Aaron and Kate. Several years ago when Aaron and Kate got married (not at the courthouse, but later in front of their friends and family), I performed the service. So sometimes I tell people the three of us are married, since I did–technically–marry them. Although I guess they didn’t marry me.

Whatever–we’re still friends.

For I don’t know how long, Aaron and Kate and their son have been posting pictures of themselves jumping into the air on their social media accounts. For just as long, I’ve thought it was the cutest thing ever and have wanted to be part of the action. Well, tonight my dream came true. See the photo above, in which Aaron, Kate, and I are suspended in midair. Talk about perfect timing. As for their stuck-to-the-ground son, as one friend online said, “An attempt was made.” I really can’t tell you how much this picture thrills me. As I told Aaron and Kate, “That’s one bucket list item down.”

After dinner, we went back to Aaron and Kate’s, and their son entertained us. Well, he entertained me and Kate, since Aaron fell asleep in their recliner. “I can’t keep my eyes open,” he said. (I currently know the feeling.) Anyway, their son chitter-chattered for over an hour, ran here and there, danced, pretended to be The Flash. Where do kids get their energy? Then for a while he and I played a game where we tossed an aluminum foil ball (okay, it was my Klondike bar wrapper) back and forth. “This is a fun game!” he said.

Kids are so easily entertained.

Recently I read a quote by Alan Watts that said, “You are under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago.” I think children naturally get this idea. One minute they’re dancing, the next they’re a super hero, then they’re tossing around a piece of trash and absolutely loving it. They can go from laughing to crying and back again just like that. And yet we adults can be so rigid. I have one friend who refuses to ever dress down or be late anywhere they go because “that’s not who I am.” Well, okay. But, I’m just saying, the world wouldn’t stop spinning if you ever decided to be someone different. For me all of this means that simply because I’ve spent my past being mild mannered, a people pleaser, and easily upset over money and medical issues, doesn’t mean I have to spend my future that way. Like a child, just like that, I can decide to play a different game.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Getting comfortable in your own skin takes time.

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On What Really Satisfies (Blog #804)

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This morning, about four, before the sun even came up, the dog I’m sitting went absolutely bat-shit crazy barking at something outside the bedroom window. It was probably a skunk, but for all I know it could have been a robber. Sound asleep before the barking started, I was suddenly awakened and extremely startled. It was like one of those dreams when your teeth fall out or you pee on yourself. (What, don’t you have those?) Terrifying. Eventually, I fell back asleep. However, two hours later the dog was whining, ready to go for a walk. So off we went. When we returned, I went back to sleep (again). Until my alarm went off two hours later.

Because of my erratic sleep schedule this week, I haven’t felt fresh as a daisy today. Now it’s just before eleven at night, and I’m ready to pass out. Maybe I can finish this in under five hundred words. Hell, considering how tired I am, I’m not sure I can finish this paragraph.

I’m gonna try.

The day itself has been fabulous. I spent this morning with a friend whom I helped with a computer problem, and we laughed, laughed, laughed while sitting on their porch. The weather was gorgeous. Then I exercised. Then I visited with a friend at their soon-to-be-opened art gallery. Talk about inspirational–people who have a dream and make it happen. Anyway, then I put together a porch bench for some other friends, then I ate fajitas (I love fajitas), then I taught a dance lesson. Phew.

This morning I read a quote by (my man) Joseph Campbell that said, “The rules of love, they really are severe. If you’re giving up everything for something, then give up everything for something and stay with it with your mind on where you’re going.” To me this means that if you’re committed to an idea–becoming a (full-time, paid) writer, for example–fucking do it. Give up everything. Sell your shit, live with your parents, wake up at six to walk dogs, do whatever you’ve got to do to make your dreams come true. If you’re really in love with whatever it is you’re pursuing (and which in turn and in truth is probably pursuing you), go for it. Give it your best shot. Nothing else will satisfy.

I sometimes tell people that I believe being a writer is why I’ve been put on this earth. Sometimes I call it a dream, a goal, or a desire, but the truth is that–I think–it’s why I’m here. Once a family friend referred to my writing as “a hobby,” and I wanted to come out of my skin. Not that it’s my job to convince anyone else that this isn’t a hobby but rather my soul’s calling, but that’s really how strongly I feel about it. It’s why I often say that if I DON’T pursue this, I know I’ll get to the end of my life and have regret.

This is not acceptable.

After reading Campbell’s quote this morning, I started thinking about what the world has to offer. And whereas I certainly haven’t even scratched the surface of what there is to see and do on planet earth, it’s not like I’ve spent the last thirty-eight years sitting on a couch either. I’ve jumped out of planes, gone down zip lines, rafted rivers, sailed yachts on foreign seas, eaten some fabulous food, danced my ass off, made love, and enjoyed the company of friends and family. Well, guess what? Nothing is ever enough. I want more. And yet I know I could spend the next thirty-eight years pursuing and achieving everything in the outer world and still not be fully content. For if I’m not pursuing my inner world, what’s the outer world amount to?

Squat, that’s what.

Personally, I think the word purpose if overused. I also think the words passion and calling are overused, but I don’t know any other words to use instead. My point is that there’s got to be SOMETHING in your life that gives it some sort of definition and texture, something deep down that MOVES you, something you’re willing to give up everything for. To be clear, this can’t be an occupation, nor can it be another person. If you think your reason for being on this earth is a specific job, what will you do when you get fired from it? If you think your reason for being on this earth is another person, what will you do when they move away or die? No, there’s gotta be something within that animates you in such a way that the entire world could fall apart and you’d still be excited to get up and think about, get up and do. This a question only you can answer–What really satisfies my soul?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s not where you are, it’s whom you are there with.

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On Apples and Oranges (Blog #801)

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Last night I started a new house sitting gig for a friend and this morning woke up at six to walk their dog. After our stroll, I promptly went back to bed. The dog didn’t, apparently. Two hours later she started barking her little head off. In the middle of drooling and dreaming, I shot up out of bed, my pulse racing, unsure of where I even was. This is often the case when you house-hop on the regular. You can’t quite get your bearings. What the hell is wrong? I thought. Has someone broken in the front door? Thankfully, this was not the case. There was a cat outside the window. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The dog did not apologize for waking me up.

Rude, I know.

Other than almost having a dog-induced heart attack this morning, I’ve had a fabulous day. I finished reading one book (about gothic architecture) then started and finished another (about one man’s thoughts on life). Then I taught a dance lesson. Then I payed bills. I guess this wasn’t fabulous–money makes my heart race–but it was nothing compared to this morning’s Fido’s Feline Frenzy Fit. Plus, since I’d been procrastinating this task for a while now, it felt good to finally get it done and out of the way.

Until next month, that is.

There’s a concept that’s been popular for a while now–what is, is. (Que sera, sera.) The idea behind this sentiment is that there are certain things in our lives we can’t change, so there’s a lot of peace (a lot of peace) in accepting life as it comes. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Byron Katie says you can’t teach a cat to bark or a dog to meow. In other words, I could be irritated that my friend’s dog woke me up this morning by barking at a cat outside the window, but my irritation ultimately wouldn’t change a damn thing, at least externally–because dogs bark at cats.

At least on planet earth.

This wisdom that things are as they are can be applied to humans as well. So often we accept that dogs bark–duh!–but not that certain people bark too. Someone flips us the bird in traffic or criticizes our behavior or doesn’t love us like we think they should, and we think they should change, that they should be different than they are. We think, That miserable sonofabitch. And yet they’re simply being themselves. I’m not saying people can’t change or won’t change, simply that what is, is–until it’s not.

The second book I read today was written by a friend and fellow travel writer, Aaron Fodiman, and he says it like this: “It doesn’t matter what you call something or how you try to change it. It can only be what it is. You can’t get orange juice from an apple because an apple is not an orange, not because the apple doesn’t want you to have orange juice or because the apple wants to keep the orange juice for itself. Apples are apples—they cannot give you orange juice. Many times people cannot give you what you want simply because they don’t have it to give. You can’t simply say they should be able to, anymore than an apple ‘should’ give you orange juice. We all can only give to others what we have in ourselves to give.”

I can’t tell you how much I love Aaron’s apples/oranges analogy. For some reason, it helps me to imagine the people in my life as–um–fruits. (I know, I know–I’m a fruit too.) This afternoon I’ve been thinking, Of course they can’t give me orange juice–they’re an apple!

Again, there’s a lot of peace in this perspective, in accepting others for who they are. For that matter, in accepting yourself for who you are–what you look like or don’t, what your talents are or aren’t, what you feel like or don’t. So often we compare ourselves, and if we don’t want to change ourselves to be like someone else, we want to change someone else to be like us. We imagine that our friends and relatives should think like us, vote like us, have our priorities. (Were they raised in a barn?!) We even imagine they should understand us. But this is all ridiculous thinking. A recipe for misery. Apples don’t understand or act like oranges. Dogs don’t act like cats.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s never too late to be your own friend.

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That Cold-Shower Feeling (Blog #798)

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Like yesterday, today has been go, go, go. Mostly, I’ve been cleaning my friend’s house, which I’m taking care of this week. If I see one more dust bunny I’m going to scream. Thankfully, I’m almost done. I just have the kitchen left. Well, and the floors. The floors are dirty. But the vacuum cleaner will take care of that. Plus, the vacuum cleaner is fun to use. It’s like a magic wand, really. Now you see it, now you don’t. I always feel like Harry Potter when I vacuum. Dusty Potter.

If it hair-lips the king, I’m gonna finish cleaning tonight. It’s nine-thirty now, and I’d rather stay up late, finish cleaning, and wake up to a sparkling house than go to bed early, wake up, and set my bare feet down in all the dust I’ve wiped off the higher surfaces. Besides, I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow–errands to run and such. A couple just booked a dance lesson. And whereas I imagine I could TRY to squeeze everything in, I’d rather breathe. So again, I intend to stay up late and get-er-done.

Clearly, I’m trying to get the blog done too. I wish I had something more to talk about than cleaning house. I know it must be terribly exciting to read about, dear reader. Alas, this is my life. This and walking my friend’s dog, which amounts to watching him hike his back leg and pee on every tree stump, fire hydrant, and fence post in a three-block radius. It’s awesome. Still, it affords me my glamorous lifestyle–sleeping in til noon, reading and writing when other people are working “real jobs.” Every up has a down, and vice versa.

Okay, here’s a story.

After cleaning all day, I decided to take a shower before teaching dance this evening. I’d cleaned the shower this morning, so I thought, This is gonna be fun. Well, I was wrong. The hot water was broken. The pilot light on the water heater had gone out–I found out later. After I took A COLD SHOWER, this is. Talk about–what’s the word?–shocking. I think I stopped breathing for a moment. At first I couldn’t even get enough air to cuss. But then I kept soaping up, kept washing off.

After a minute, that cold water wasn’t so bad. Not that it was so good or even comfortable–it wasn’t–but it was bearable. When it was all said and done, I was actually invigorated, more awake. And not that I’m wanting to do it again–indeed, I marched my little butt down into the basement and relit the pilot light on the hot water heater (after I put some clothes on)–but there was this sense of I’m alive.

While cleaning yesterday, I listened to a lecture by Stephan Hoeller in which he pointed out how fundamentally unsatisfying life can be at times. Like, you fall in love, make some money, buy some nice things, go out with friends and still find yourself asking, Is this all there is? Hoeller’s push was for the spiritual life, a deeper connection to life itself. I know that word–spiritual–means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. In terms of where the word spirit comes from, it’s related to animation or movement. What is it that animates you? What is it that moves you? For me, it’s that thing that makes me want to read and write and create, that mysterious quality that invigorates, that cold-shower feeling of I’m alive.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

Reconnecting (Blog #794)

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It’s late, two in the morning, and I’m tired. Really, I’m in no shape to think. (Whatever you do, don’t let me vote.) Still, I must. Think, that is. Or at least try. (Geez, this is going so well.) I just finished listening to a lecture about synchronicity. Then, when I tried to “synch” my photos for tonight’s blog, they wouldn’t. This is called ironic. Anyway, it’s amazing how frustrated I can get when I’m tried (or hungry) and things aren’t working like I want them to. I can really pitch an internal fit. I can really tense up.

I’m telling myself I’m going to keep this short. This weekend I’ve did something I never do–relaxed. That is, I chilled out, visited people I care about, listened to music, watched television, drank a gin and tonic. Relaxed. I didn’t even read a book. Not one page. Consequently, due to all my inactivity, I don’t have a lot to talk about.

One thing I did do earlier tonight was look at stars. This is the first time I’ve really studied the heavens since winter. And whereas it was beautiful and fun, I’d forgotten a lot. I mean, the stars change from season to season, not to mention throughout the night. And since it’s been nearly a full year since I looked up at a spring sky, it’s going to take me a while to get reacquainted with its constellations and “major players.” But really, it’s been months since I’ve seen Jupiter. And yet there it was tonight not exactly but basically where I left it last year–near Scorpius.

Okay, my brain is failing, so I’m going to find a way to wrap this up. Lately I’ve been thinking about this relaxing thing, about how I’d really like my physical body and nervous system to relax, since I always feel slightly on edge, tense. For years I’ve gritted down to get stuff done and, in the process, ignored a lot of my body’s cries for a break. Stop pushing so hard. More and more I know we can’t go on like this. I’ve blogged a hundred times (or more) this late at night, and I just can’t keep it up. At least not tonight. I don’t know, I used to be worried that other people could relax and find peace and balance and that I couldn’t. But now I believe these things in all of us, waiting for us to come back to them. Like a planet or bright star int he sky, just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there. It’s just a matter of reconnecting with them, of finding yourself again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes the best you can do is metaphorically sit you ego down, look it square in the eye, and say, “Would you shut the fuck up already?”

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