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)

"Things that shine do better when they're scattered about."

Sacred (Blog #1085)

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This afternoon I finished reading What’s in Your Web: Stories of Fascial Freedom by Phil Tavolacci and started and finished Tapping In: A Step-by-Step Guide to Activating Your Healing Resources by Laurel Parnell. And whereas it may sound like a big deal to start and finish an entire book in one day, I mostly skimmed it. Not that it wasn’t full of good information. It’s just that the meaty stuff, the technique for using bilateral stimulation to calm yourself and “lock in” positive and beneficial states of being, was up front; the rest of the book was about how to use that technique in, oh, seventy-five different scenarios.

I’ve talked a lot about EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) lately, thus my interest in bilateral stimulation. And whereas Tapping In is different from EMDR, it’s based on the same idea. That by gently stimulating your body in a back and forth (left, right, left, right) fashion, you somehow encourage your brain to process trauma, self-soothe, and achieve peak performance. In it’s most basic form, Tapping In looks like tapping your feet right-left-right, using your hands to do the same thing on your thighs, or crossing your arms and using your hands to tap your chest or shoulders. This can be done without a topic in mind, and, according to the book, some people say it works because it reminds our bodies of centuries of tribal drumming or just simply being rocked and soothed by our mothers. Others claim it works because it connects both sides of the brain by “crossing the midline.”

With a topic in mind, Tapping In can be used when you’re nervous or recalling or anticipating a stressful or traumatic event. In this case, you’re basically acting like your own mother. There, there, Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s over. However, the book recommends saving the “major stuff” for your (EMDR) therapist and instead using the tapping technique to make your positive memories “stick” and your best states of being last longer. For example, you could recall a time when you felt on top of the world, or safe, or in love, and then, once you really felt that all over your body, go to tapping. Thus “locking in” that positive feeling and bringing your past fully into the present.

One of my takeaways from from Tapping In was the idea that we all have an entire host of inner resources that are always available to us. For example, my dreams and daydreams are often full of strong animals or even celebrities. And it’s not that these characters with all their power and abilities are out there, in a book or on a movie screen. Rather, they are in here, inside of me. Waiting to be tapped into, waiting to help, waiting to save the day. They say that when you first begin therapy you imagine that your therapist is some sort of superhero. Perhaps this is true. Hell, I created a blog about mine (sort of). But they also say that eventually you realize your therapist is just another flawed human being. Also true. Sooner or later you conclude that all the magical powers you ascribed to your therapist actually reside in you.

Oh, I’m the strong one. I’m the badass. I’m the one who knows how to solve my problems.

Something I’ve been grateful for lately are all the people in my life who’ve supported me throughout my healing journey. The people with whom it would not have been or continue to be possible. Because what they say is true. People harm us, but they also heal us. This has been my experience. For all the crap that some people have directly or indirectly brought into my life (sometimes on a silver platter), an equal amount of healing has been brought to me by others–my therapist, my EMDR therapist, my myofascial release therapist, my upper cervical care doctor, my regular doctor(s). And yes, I know I have a lot of therapists and doctors. It takes a damn village.

Additionally, I’ve been supported sometimes vocally and sometimes non-vocally by my family, friends, and a host of acquaintances and strangers who have witnessed my journey through this blog. And whereas I’m grateful for all my professional and non-professional help, I’d like to point out that those who help you heal and those who support your healing are, often, not the ones you expect to or wish would. Indeed, many times when I’ve wanted the support of specific people, I’ve gotten crickets. And yet support has always come from somewhere, from someone. More and more I believe we get what we need from whom we need it. Having been held and cared for by total strangers while crying and falling apart (and at the same time coming back together), I’ve come to believe that this kind of care is the most profound anyway. Because it says, “I haven’t known you forever, but I’m here for you in this moment. If only for a moment, I’m willing to walk with you and be a cocoon for your metamorphosis. I’m willing to accept and love you as you are.”

Caroline Myss talks about something called a sacred wound, a pain or suffering that cuts so deep that it has the power to not only set you on the path of true healing, but also at the the same time launch your personal transformation. And whereas this may sound lovely, it sucks. Why? Because someone has to deliver the wound, and if you’re not careful you could spend the rest of your life hating that person (or persons). More and more I believe life is like a giant drama in which we all play many–necessary–parts. Meaning that sometimes we’re the wounded, sometimes we’re the wound-er. (This is an ugly job, but someone’s got to do it. Where would Jesus be without Judas?) Likewise, sometimes we’re the healer, sometimes we’re the healed. Deep down, there’s a peace about all this, a knowing that all parts must be played. A knowing that all parts are sacred.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Freedom lies on the other side of everything you're afraid of.

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Good and Beautiful and True (Blog #1083)

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This afternoon I saw my myofascial release wizard, and, phew, what a trip that was. By this I mean I cried. A lot. I don’t know. If you haven’t experience myofascial release or anything like it, I know it sounds odd. Marcus got a massage and cried. How strange. And I admit, it is strange. Hell, I’ve HAD myofascial release before and still think it’s odd. No, phenomenal. Phenomenal is a better word. This being said, when I had myofascial release before, it was by a lower-level practitioner, and for a shorter session. So maybe that’s the difference. Or maybe my body just wasn’t ready. That’s one thing I’ve become convinced of. If you’re body isn’t ready to let go, sweetie, you ain’t letting go. If you’re body doesn’t think it’s safe, it’s going to remain on high-alert.

High-alert. I guess that’s how I’ve felt for, oh, twenty-five years now. Granted, I’ve never experienced classic panic attacks, but I have spent ever so much time feeling nervous and unsettled, breaking out in hives, having headaches, and on and on. More than enough signs to let me know my body was, in a very real way, upset and needing attention. Like, Darling, we can’t handle this any longer. This being the go, go, going and self-pressuring. “Sometimes we keep ourselves busy so we don’t have to feel,” my myofascial release wizard (MFRW) said today as she was working on my neck and shoulders, which have been consistently tight for decades. “But what would it be like to let the weight of the world slip off your shoulders?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “It’s been there so long.”

This is one of the challenges of healing. We live with our our pains and problems so long that we get used to them. Not that they’re ever fun, but we become comfortable with them. We even identify with them. We say, MY headaches, MY hives. We say, I’M sick, I’M stressed. Whereas some cultures say, I’m experiencing a headache or sickness, thus making an important distinction. That you and your illness are not synonymous. Of course, this is a difficult perspective to keep in mind, especially when your body’s been hurting for years. And yet more and more I’m convinced that a body that’s hurting is a body with a story that desperately needs to be heard.

Where things really got interesting today was when my MFRW worked on my belly button. “I’m going to do what’s called an umbilical cord release,” she said, “and it’s your connection to your mother.” Well, before she really even got going, I started bawling like a baby, I suppose because my mother has been clinically depressed since I was in her womb and, consequently, she hasn’t always been able to be there for me like I’ve wanted her to be. And whereas logically I can say that I understand all this, that it’s okay, alas, my inner child, that little fellow that was in her womb, is apparently not big on logic. This is to say that the story my body told this afternoon was one of sadness, disappointment, grief, confusion, and even anger. Because so many times both my parents weren’t able to be there. Because I had to grow up “too fast.”

The more I allow myself to acknowledge and feel these feelings, the more I’m convinced that my inner child (for lack of a better term) is alive and well. That is, although my driver’s license, the mirror, and my bathroom scales clearly indicate that I’m a 39-year-old man, there’s very much a part of me that’s stuck in 1994, the year I was in a terrible car accident and my dad was arrested. The year I had to grow up. “What does that boy need?” my MFRW asked. “What does he need to hear?”

Sobbing, I thought, He needs to hear that he did a good job. (A great job.) And that it’s over now and he can relax.

Something my MFRW said that stuck with me today was that whenever the wind gets knocked out of our proverbial sails and our boat gets tumped over, we often blame the people we most care about. Like, You weren’t there for me. This is your fault. But the truth is that, most likely, they got knocked out of the boat too. Because shit happens. In my case, I was clearly affected by my mom’s depression, but so was she. Ever so much more than I was. So was my entire family. When dad was arrested, my whole world shifted. But all of our worlds did. This perspective doesn’t change the feelings and emotions that got shoved down all those years ago, but it does help me let them go now. More and more I’m convinced there’s never a good reason to hang on to all that shit anyway. People say that holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the object of your anger to suffer, and I’m coming to believe this is quite literal. Our bodies pay the price for our rage.

And sadness, etc.

To be clear, I don’t think the goal is to be free from any one emotion or the information it carries. I say information because I wish that years ago, even as a teenager, I’d been able to hear what my sadness and tight shoulders were telling me. Sweetheart, we need to be cared for. We need to lighten up. We need to know we’re good enough. This is valuable information, and why I don’t think the goal is to be free from our emotions. Rather, I think we need to experience them. To let our long-buried feelings finally have their say.

Lately I’ve had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and I freely admit that I don’t do the best job explaining it. It’s not that I get in a room, start talking about my history, and break down in tears. Rather, while in a safe place in which I feel comfortable, emotions like sadness, anger, and self-pressure (if that’s even an emotion) bubble up. Very much like the way a sneeze does. All of a sudden, you’re aware that your body has something to say, something to let go of. And you can either hold it in (ouch), or let it come out. Having gone through this process over and over again over the last month or two, the go, go, goer in me is ready to let it all out. Now. To let go of the tension in my body and experience, I guess, more freedom. Because I always feel lighter, looser on the other side of a release. And yet it appears that the body has its own timeframe for healing. As my MFRW says, “It’s baby steps.”

I used to read stories of healing and releasing like the one I just told and think there must be something wrong with me. Because I was try, try, trying and not getting the same results. Now I think it was just timing. “There’s a season for falling apart,” my MFRW says, “and a season for healing.” It just wasn’t my season yet. Granted, I was learning a lot, which I think gave me a solid foundation for my current experiences. That is, had I not read so much about the mind-body connection and the way our fascia stores our memories, I could have been seriously freaked out by all-of-a-sudden needing to wail or hiss or grunt. I could have shut it down. Which is honestly my first instinct. Because if I’m not all my pain and suffering, all my trying, all my tension, then who am I? And whereas I don’t have an answer, I’m willing to find out. Not only because I can’t keep going like this (twenty-five years is long enough), but also because I’m convinced it’s something good and beautiful and true.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Boundaries aren’t something you knock out of the park every time.

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Your Body Is on Your Side (Blog #1075)

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After four days of feeling like rough stuff, sneezing and hacking like all get out, this morning I woke up better. Not completely full of energy, but more energized. I haven’t sneezed all day. Let’s hear it for my miraculous body and its willingness to rise to the occasion (hip, hip, hooray!). This being said, my lower back has got me groaning like a bayou frog, and my hips feel like a door on rusty hinges. Either I spent too much time in bed this weekend, or my body is rebelling against the anesthesia I had for my EDG three days ago. I mean, that stuff knocks you out for a reason.

It ain’t no shit.

This afternoon I saw my upper cervical doctor, and he said I looked south of fabulous. Still, he decided to “push me” (that is, not give me an adjustment), in hopes that my body and nervous system will kick in and do their thing. Like, Oh, yeah, that’s supposed to be our job. So sorry we forgot! Thanks for the reminder.

My grandmother used to do this thing at holidays. She’d slave away in the kitchen for hours making a stupendous meal (which was free for us, her family, to eat, by the way), and when we’d compliment her, instead of saying, “Thank you,” like you’re supposed to, she’d come back with, “Well the broccoli casserole is undercooked because I got a new stove this year” or “The potatoes would have been warmer if you’d been here on time.” (That’s called being passive aggressive.) My point being that, for whatever reason, she simply couldn’t be satisfied. And I get it. As a recovering perfectionist, I really get it. My body just kicked a cold’s butt, and I’m like, my hip hurts. But more and more I’m purposing to focus on what IS working rather than what ISN’T.

Along these lines, I’m more convinced than ever that my body is on my side. I’m more convinced than ever that it’s trying and doing the best it can. Steve Goodier said, “You have a great body. It is an intricate piece of technology and a sophisticated super-computer. It runs on peanuts and even regenerates itself. Your relationship with your body is one of the most important relationships you’ll ever have. And since repairs are expensive and spare parts are hard to come by, it pays to make that relationship good.” To me this means that it’s incumbent upon me to do everything I can to support my body in its efforts to heal. By taking pressure out of the system (by letting go of tension and old emotions), by drinking water, by listening to what it has to tell me.

In terms of listening to what my body has to tell me, there are times I’m absolutely blown away by the messages it sends me. Day in and day out my intuition speaks to me about my relationships (dump them, call them), professional matters (create this, read that), and health matters (eat this, don’t eat that). And lightening fast. More and more I’m sure that one’s personal growth and even their spiritual growth center around this lifelong challenge–learning how to hear, trust, and act upon your own inner guidance. Even if no one else approves or understands. Even if you can’t say why.

Especially if you can’t say why.

For me the phrase that comes up when I get inner guidance is “I just know.” Like, I just knew my therapist was the right one for me, just like I knew Momentum was the right name for my former dance studio. Earlier tonight there was a singer on The Voice (Jon Mullins), and within three seconds of hearing him introduced, before he’d even sung a note, I just knew he was going to be good. I could feel it all over my body. And, y’all, he was awesome. He absolutely killed it. What’s more, and maybe this is why I got that feeling (and it doesn’t matter, I don’t have to know WHY), his song, “Don’t Give Up on Me” by Andy Grammar, was the perfect reminder.

I’ll explain.

First imagine that YOU are singing these words to your body. “I will fight. Yes, I will fight for you. We’ll make it to the other side.” Then imagine that YOUR BODY is singing these words to you. “I’m not giving up, I’m not giving up, no not me. I’m not going down that easily.” This, I believe, is really the relationship we should have with our magnificent bodies, a relationship in which we realize that we’re on the same page, that we want the best for ourselves, a relationship in which we fight for each other. For ourselves. More and more my advice to myself or anyone else is: trust yourself and the body you’ve been given for your journey. You’re both wise beyond measure, capable of far more than you ever imagined. So hang in there. And bet on yourself. Give yourself a chance. Don’t give up on you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All things are moving as they should.

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Messy (Blog #1073)

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This morning and afternoon I was supposed to attend a writing class I signed up and paid for last week. Alas, sick with the crud and feeling like a bag of ass, last night I emailed the organizer and said I wouldn’t make it. So I’ve spent the day in bed, sneezing and reading and saying, “God help me” over and over and over again. Now it’ 9:30 at night, and I’m propped up in the living room in order to blog, sipping tea, the inside of my shirt covered in snot. God help me.

One of the books I’ve been reading today (I’m always working on more than one at a time) is called What’s in Your Web? Stories of Fascial Freedom by Phil Tavolacci. It’s about myofascial release (MFR), as taught by John F. Barnes, which I’ve been receiving recently from my myofascial release wizard (MFRW) and is changing my body and my life for the better. Specifically, the book is about how our fascia or connective tissue literally forms a web inside us that not only holds our bodies in space but also holds our mental and emotional memories. For anyone interested in the topic, I highly recommend it.

Maybe it’s just because I’m not feeling well, but something the book mentions that resonated with me is what’s called a Healing Crisis. Basically, it’s the idea that whenever you truly begin to heal, things are going to get worse before they get better. (This sucks, I know.) Why? Because you’ve poked the bear, disturbed ancient junk. Think of the way a dirty casserole dish initially gets dirtier and murkier when you first start running water into it. Ultimately the water is cleansing, but first it’s disturbing. So like, hang in there, Sweetheart, it just takes time.

Along these lines, apparently John F. Barnes says, “Healing is messy.” Amen. In my experience, it’s anything but a straight line, more like what happens when you poke a hole in a helium balloon and it goes flying every which way. One minute you’re up, the next minute you’re upside down. Or flat on your back. You think, This sucks. I’m getting nowhere. Even if you are. Even if you can’t see it.

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is how, if we’re really on our path, we’re led to where we need to go, to whom we need to meet. Used to I’d read books about people who had healed and think I had to do what they did, just the way they did. Alas, this always ended in frustration, since it’s impossible to take the exact healing route someone else has taken. Not only because working with their particular doctor or therapist, or eating their specific diet, would be unreasonable in terms of logistics and money, but also because what works for one person almost never works the exact same way for someone else. Because no two people have the same history or set of problems. Consequently, no two prescriptions for wellness can be the same.

More and more I’m learning to trust my path for me. I’m learning to trust that the professionals I’ve been led to and the books and information that fascinate me hold an important piece of my healing puzzle. Maybe not someone else’s healing puzzle–maybe, but maybe not–but my healing puzzle. Again, this whole process is messy. (Achoo!) It never happens as fast as you want it to. (Boo.) But it does happen. Over time, that which has been broken is put back together. That which has been shattered is mended.

God help us.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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So perhaps perfection has little to do with that which changes and everything to do with that which doesn't. For surely there is a still, small something inside each of us that never changes, something that is timeless and untouchable, something inherently valuable and lovable--something perfect.

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Don’t Suffer Needlessly (Blog #1072)

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Currently it’s 10 in the evening, and I feel like a Bradford Pear tree is blooming inside my sinuses. I’m congested and can’t stop sneezing. I’m trying–trying–to not make this a national emergency. Yesterday I saw my ENT, and he reminded me that people–mere mortals like myself–get sick, get sick with sinus infections that typically last one or two months. “Whenever you get a sinus infection, the cilia inside your nasal cavities STOPS moving for six weeks minimum,” he said. Which means the mucus inside your head (or my head as the case may be) is tougher to move OUT.

Geez. Fine time for those little guys to go on strike.

The good news is that my ENT said he’s been having “really good results” with a specially compounded antibiotic/steroid mix that can be added to one’s nasal rinse. “Nose sprays only reach so far into your sinus cavities,” he said, “so nasal rinses are better.” And whereas I don’t love the idea of using antibiotics and steroids, I like that they wouldn’t be directly affecting my gut or overall body. Just my sinuses. Plus, I’ve given alternative treatments a good go (God knows I have), but, despite some spectacular results, they aren’t consistently cutting the mustard. So I’m willing to try something new.

My body continues to be a laboratory.

Along the lines of making efforts to heal, this morning I had an EDG (esophagogastroduodenoscopy) to scope out (get it?) the root cause of my acid reflux. Y’all, I don’t mind saying I totally enjoyed the drugs the anesthesiologist used to knock me out. Best sleep I’ve had all year. Alas, they said I couldn’t take any home with me. They also said I had a “small” hiatal hernia, basically an open door in my intestinal system that’s allowing certain fluids to sneak out and roam around where they shouldn’t be (in my throat).

At one time I would have been bothered by this information. Like, I’m falling apart. But more and more I’m convinced that my body can heal, or at the very least handle, all sorts of challenges. Plus, I know I’m getting good help. In a couple weeks, after the doctor gets some biopsy results back (“just to make sure there aren’t other contributing factors”), I’ll meet with him and get a game plan. After over a year and a half of NOT knowing what’s been causing all my intestinal distress, I’m like, bring it on.

More and more I think the more information I have, the better. This is my approach not only to my physical health, but also to my mental and emotional health (which I’m separating less and less from my physical health these days). My therapist says my dedication to understanding myself is “remarkable,” but–I don’t know–I’m just determined to unearth what makes me tick, what makes us all tick. And although I don’t claim to have all the answers, I’m convinced that if we’re overwhelmed by emotions, limiting beliefs, dysfunctional relationships (bad boundaries), and even health concerns, there’s a reason. Even science promotes this idea, solidly linking childhood trauma to heart disease and a number of other physical problems. Google the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) quiz.

As Caroline Myss says, “Your biography becomes your biology.”

For me, it’s natural to dig into my interior, although I know many people run from theirs. I mean, this journey isn’t for everyone. At the same time, you’re the one you live with day-in and day-out your entire life, so wouldn’t it behoove you to “know thyself,” like thyself, and even love thyself? Maybe that’s part of the reason we attempt to run from ourselves. (Which is, of course, a ridiculous and impossible notion.) We’re afraid of what we’ll find. But in my experience, even our scariest memories, emotions, and pains, when met with gentle compassion and curiosity, have something good to teach us. And leave us better on the other side.

Once a friend encouraged me to “sum up” what I’ve learned from my therapeutic and blogging journey. And whereas I get where they were coming from, it’s not really my style. For one thing, although I know bulleted lists are convenient, I personally almost always scan through them and think, I already know all that. Additionally, from the beginning I’ve said that I know my blogs are long and don’t have subheadings. Fine. This is on purpose. My invitation has been and continues to be–slow down, read a story, see if you can glean something from it.

Because some things, like yourself, are worth slowing down for. Are worth really thinking about.

Recently my therapist said that it’s never made sense to her that “someone will spend $80,000 on a car or botox” but not spend a fraction of that money on understanding themselves, on paying a professional for insights into their thoughts, behaviors, and relationships. Amen. So if I WERE to make a list, it would certainly include–seek help, get your ass in therapy (or do something useful that resonates with you), and don’t stop searching until you have some damn answers. Until you find something that works. In other words, don’t suffer needlessly. Not with your outsides. Not with your insides.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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Are You Going to Hold on to That? (Blog #1071)

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After go, go, going for the last two days, this morning I woke up with a(nother) sinus infection. I can’t tell you how frustrated I get whenever this happens. (Although I know I do on a regular basis.) In addition to all the mucus, it just feels like I’m try, try, trying and getting nowhere.

No damn where.

This being said, after I got up and got myself together, I had an appointment with my myofascial release wizard (MFRW), and it was amazing. Which means I cried a lot. Seriously, there were so many tears, in addition to shaking, moaning, fist pounding, and foot stomping, all of which my MFRW says are normal reactions or responses to trauma that get can stuck in our body, in our fascia. Today as she was working on my right side, which has felt cinched up and scrunched down for over a decade, I absolutely fell apart, at the same time recalling a very specific and ancient stressful event from my childhood. And whereas it was momentarily uncomfortable, the release felt good.

Feeling like good things were happening, I asked my MFRW if she had any tricks for sinus issues. Thankfully, she said she did, and she began to slowly apply pressure across my face, stretching the fascia underneath my skin. Again, I got emotional. Then, when she held eucalyptus oil under my nose, I once again fell apart. (Later she said she didn’t think it was the scent that caused my reaction, but I’m open to the idea that, under the right circumstances, subtle energies can move mountains.) This release went on for a while and brought up memories of how hard I’ve tried over the years to, well, do just about everything–heal, be successful, stay in the closet. Once when my breathing changed and I started to stifle my body’s tears, my MFRW said, “Are you going to hold on to that, or are you ready to let it go?”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot today. This afternoon I spoke to my therapist, whom I’ve been having a lot of life-coaching type sessions with lately. This means we’ve been discussing career-oriented things and money, which is historically not my favorite topic. Well, today when the topic came up I realized that a lot of other topics came up with it. Sort of like how you mean to pick up one paperclip from a cup and end up picking up a number of them because they’ve gotten stuck together. Specifically, today’s conversation about my future career brought up my beliefs that 1) I work really hard and get nowhere, 2) life works for everyone else but not for me, and 3) I’m not worthy of success.

Now, from a logical standpoint, I know that none of these statements are true. And yet deep down I still have a reaction to them. This is is why I believe it’s one thing to get something in your head and another thing to get something in your body. For three years I’ve talked the internet’s ear off about my life’s dramas and traumas, and yet my body still had more to say about them today. Likewise with my issues around money and worthiness. More and more I believe this is the case for all of us. That our bodies have the final word.

Whether we like it or not.

I say whether we like it or not because I don’t LOVE falling apart in the arms of a total stranger. Nor do I like the fact that I have all these triggers around money. I’d much rather take a Tylenol for my aches and pains, act like everything is fine, and move on with my life. Alas, my body has clearly been crying out for help for decades and is no longer satisfied with the Tylenol or the “I’m fine” approach. If it ever was. Not that I didn’t take a Tylenol this evening to help with my headache (which I have in addition to my current sinus problems). You do what you’ve got to do. But more and more I’m convinced that because I’ve been shoving emotions down and been putting Bandaids on for years–albeit doing the best I knew how–it’s simply time to learn another way.

This is going to take some time, of course. And whereas I’m trying to be patient, it’s difficult. I want to feel better NOW. I want to let go of old beliefs NOW. At the same time, I’m terrified to move forward. Because my old beliefs, emotions, and even aches and pains are, well, familiar. Not that I like them, but I’ve grown accustomed to them. In a very real sense, they are ME. I’m willing to change, but I think, WHO am I going to be on the other side of all this? And, Am I ready?

Am I ready to let go of my old life?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Your emotions are tired of being ignored.

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On Whispering (Blog #1063)

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This morning I saw my myofascial release wizard and cried while she was working on getting my chest and shoulders to open up. “Raise your arms out from your side like you’re making a snow angel,” she said, “but stop when it hurts. Then go back and slowly stretch out like a telescope.” Y’all, I’m so used to push, push, pushing, forcing a stretch, but when I gradually telescoped my left arm, that’s when the release happened. My body shook and let go, and I cried and remembered a specific incident over ten years ago when I felt abandoned.

Ten years. Ten frickin’ years that emotion’s been hanging out, just waiting to be heard. And whereas my dad later pointed out that–thanks to all the different therapies I’ve been doing recently–I’ve been crying a lot lately, I think it’s fabulous. For one thing, getting an emotion out, or rather letting it move through you, is cathartic and healing and allows the past to finally be over. For another, sadness and grief and fear aren’t the only emotional responses that have been rising to the surface lately. So have anger, frustration, confusion, disgust, and joy. At times I’ve just laughed and laughed. Alas, at one point or another we’ve all stifled every reaction under the sun. And although we may have long forgotten them, our bodies haven’t.

This sucks, I know, especially when your stifled emotions show up in your shoulder.

Now, I’m not saying that any and every pain or problem you have is strictly emotional. What I am saying is that unacknowledged emotions are often part the pain equation. And whereas I know plenty of people just can’t “go there,” it makes sense to me. This morning thanks to the texts of a couple people, I realized I didn’t post a link to last night’s blog on Facebook. Rather, I posted a link to a website about EMDR, something I’ve briefly mentioned before and plan to discuss more in depth soon. Regardless, this morning I was terrified when I found out. I thought, I’ve made a mistake. My heart sped up. My breathing became shallow. I quickly calmed down, but my point is that we all experience the effect of our thoughts and emotions on our bodies on a daily basis. We get nervous and feel like we’re going to shit ourselves. We get angry and tense our shoulders, get a headache. So sure, I grant that releasing a decade-old emotion during a (for lack of a better term) massage is strange, but clearly you can’t separate your mind, emotions, and your body.

Sorry, but you this is the way you were made.

My myfascial release wizard says our bodies hold on to tension and emotions in order to keep us safe. They think, The last time I relaxed and honestly expressed myself, it didn’t go well. (I was in an accident, got hit, hurt or rejected, was made fun of, etc.) This is how our bodies become stuck in the past. Frozen in time. Thankfully, they can come back to the present. They can thaw out. However, this seems to require gentle coaxing. Gentle because–apparently–when a stretch or movement (or even an attitude) is forced upon the body–it fights back. Like, nope, not going there. But when it’s lightly encouraged, whispered to, not shouted at, the body gets the idea that it’s safe to let go, that things are different now than they were before.

That all the horrible things are over and that we can be free again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some things simply take time and often more than one trip to the hardware store.

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On Being a Guinea Pig (Blog #1061)

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This evening I’ve been thinking about being a guinea pig. What I mean is that’s how I see myself, as a walking experiment. For example, over the last few years I’ve tried a number of things to help with a number of things: body odor, acid reflux, headaches, you name it. And whereas some of the things I’ve tried have been conventional, many of them have not. Not that I’m absolutely sold on home remedies and weird shit (because a lot of it is bogus), but–let’s face it–conventional approaches don’t always get the job done. I can’t tell you the number of college-educated doctors I’ve asked about my issues, yes, to be helped some, but also to only be told, “You’re an enigma” or “You’ve got me there.”

Used to, these sorts of answers would cause me to despair. Like, it’s hopeless. I’m fucked. More and more, I’m not bothered when someone–even a professional–says they don’t know what to do. Why? Because that lets me know THEY’RE not the one I’m looking for, the one with the answer. And I don’t begrudge them for this. After all, it’s good to know where NOT to look (or whom NOT to date), and just because someone doesn’t have every piece of a puzzle doesn’t mean they don’t have a piece of it. Dr. Johan Boswinkel said, “I believe that truth has 144 sides.” To me this means that we can’t expect one person to be able to solve all our problems, whether that one person is a doctor, a therapist, or even us. It takes a village to see the entire picture.

To solve the entire problem.

Along these lines, for example, I’ve made huge strides with sinus infections thanks to a blog I found online. Still, last week I asked my primary care physician about ways to deal with post nasal drip, and next week I have an appointment with the ENT who performed my sinus surgery three years ago (which helped with, well, breathing) to ask them the same question. There was a time in my life I would have only sought out one opinion, but now I just don’t believe that’s enough.

How many opinions are enough? However many it takes to get the answer you want. This is what I mean by being a guinea pig. I’m so determined to heal–whatever that means–that I’m willing to ask almost anyone, to try almost anything. Rather than suffer. I don’t know. There’s just something in me that keeps hoping, keeps insisting that life can be better. Better than it has been. Better than it is. Not that the past and present have been completely awful (all of the time), but I’m convinced there’s something more. Not out there, but in here. Inside of me.

I’m talking about potential.

Fortunately, my keep-hoping, never-quit, good-God-I-need-an-answer-right-now-damn-it-because-I’m-exhausted attitude has started to pay off. Over the last few months my body has begun to heal and to change thanks to upper cervical care. Thanks to the new therapist I’ve started seeing (in addition to my regular therapist and whose methods I intend to discuss more fully soon) and the myofascial release practitioner I mentioned last week, I’ve processed and let go of emotions that have been hidden in my body for decades. Ugh. It’s been said that emotions buried alive never die, and I’ve found this to be true. Just because you stuff something down doesn’t mean it’s not there. Sooner or later, all our feelings must be felt, expressed, and assimilated. Otherwise they’ll simply show up as our neuroses (anxieties, fears, compulsions, addictions) or, perhaps worse, our dis-eases (pains, ailments).

Honestly, my discomforts and diseases over the years have been the main reason I’ve worked so hard to “get better” mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. (I believe you can’t separate the four.) My Reiki teacher says our bodies are our sounding boards, meaning they let us know when something in our life needs attention or is out of balance. Of course, achieving balance is a delicate undertaking and seems to require a lifelong commitment. So be it. Perhaps this is why we’ve been given life in the first place, so that both we as individuals and we as a collective can come to a greater sense of harmony.

Perhaps.

Getting back to the idea that it takes a village, when I think about the healing I’ve experienced over the last few years and even the last few months, I’d like to be clear. As much as I love my therapist and wouldn’t be without her, I also wouldn’t be without this new therapist I’m seeing. Nor would I be without my primary care physician, my ENT, or my myofascial release practitioner. Nor would I be without, well, myself, since I’ve figured out a number of things no one on my “healing team” has been able to. Not that I’m so fabulous. For every piece I’ve figured out, I have dozens of websites, books, and YouTube videos (and their producers) to credit.

So. We’re all in this together.

All this to say that if you’re struggling with something, if you’re looking for answers, if you’re, well, human, hang in there. It’s a big universe (with a big internet), and you’ve got more options now than ever. Granted, there are certain things we’re just “stuck with” for life (and we all have to get off this planet somehow), but more and more I believe our bodies and souls are capable of more than we give them credit for, certainly more than we’ve been led to believe. So keep trying, keep searching. Until you find your Self. Keep being a guinea pig until you find Balance. When it comes to others, especially experts, take them with a grain of salt. They are, after all, only human. No one knows everything. And only you get to say what your potential is.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There is a force, a momentum that dances with all of us, sometimes lifting us up in the air, sometimes bringing us back down in a great mystery of starts and stops.

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On Killing Your Darlings (Blog #1060)

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Today I’ve felt squirmy about money, mostly because my therapist recently encouraged me to “make a plan” to make some. And whereas I don’t have any problem making a plan, I do have a problem with all the issues money brings up for me–worthiness, people pleasing, and so on. Granted, these issues aren’t nearly as “heavy” as they used to be. I’ve made a lot of progress. Still, it’s almost always a challenge for me to hold the line or stand up for myself when it comes to my personal value. This last summer I challenged a former client who tried to pull a fast one and get me to work for half my quoted and agreed upon rate and was nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.

But I did it.

As far as I can tell, this is how we grow and move forward. Not steadily, but with our knees shaking. Ugh. Anytime I’ve broken up with an ex, distanced myself from a friend, or challenged a client, everything in me wanted to throw up. And whereas at one time I would have let this feeling of nausea convince me to NOT say something, I eventually learned that it was my signal TO say something. Like, I’m just going to keep feeling like shit if I don’t. The good part being that every single time I’ve stepped outside my comfort zone and done the thing I was afraid of doing, my comfort zone has later increased in size. Mark Twain said it this way: “Do the thing you fear, and the death of fear is certain.” Another benefit being that for the rest of my life I can’t tell myself I CAN’T stand up for myself–because I have time and time again. Even if it’s never FUN for me, I can’t say I can’t.

After having a wonderful experience with myofascial release and a tuning fork this last week, tonight I went down a rabbit hole and started reading Tuning the Human Biofield: Healing with Vibrational Sound Therapy by Eileen Day McKusick. (So far, it’s fascinating.) In it McKusick maps the human energy system, noting where certain emotions or issues typically get stuck in the body. For instance, she says the health of our knees relate to how we’re moving forward in life and that if you have problems with your left knee (which, um, I had surgery on mine just over a year ago) it can indicate that you have a difficult time letting go, either of things or an old story about yourself. For me, this resonates as true. For example, I’ve spent so much of my life in one income bracket that, despite the constant encouragement of my therapist that I can move to a different (higher) one, it’s difficult for me to fully believe and embody this fact.

You know, I get queasy.

Another mind/body/emotion connection McKusick mentions that resonates with me is that right hip (sciatic) issues often have to do with being chronically busy. “The hip of overdoing,” she calls it. Ugh. Somewhere along the way I got it in my head that you have to try, try, try, push, push, push. And yet for all my staying busy and really working my ass off, lately I’ve had some healing experiences that were, well, just the easiest thing. In an instant, my body let go. Likewise, some of the best money I’ve ever made has not only been the most fun, but has also required the least amount of work. What’s the saying? Easy money.

Byron Katie says that’s everything’s a story, and I suppose that this blog is largely my effort to rewrite mine. To change the way I think and speak about money, my relationships, and how easy or difficult life and healing are. And whereas it’s been a process, it’s working. More and more I’m believing that the stories I grew up believing about me and my body and what we’re capable of were at the best incomplete, at the worst flat wrong. Ugh. I wish I could just cross these stories out, throw them away, start over. In writing this is called “killing your darlings,” scrapping your beloved creations because they’re just not working, just not serving your overall plot. Alas, killing your belief-darlings is a slower process. Not because it’s difficult to see what’s not working, but because old beliefs die hard and new beliefs take time to take root, sprout, blossom, bear fruit. And so I remind myself, Be patient, sweetheart. Trust the process. Your story is far from over.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No good story ever ends.

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