Life Is a Contact Sport (Blog #611)

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Well shit. About an hour ago my friend Matt and I performed the dance routine we’ve been practicing the last two weeks. And whereas it WAS going REALLY WELL, when I jumped over his head I twisted my left knee when I landed and ended up hobbling like a freshly born foal through the rest of the number. Yowza. Now I’m leaning against a wall in the back of the room, my knee encased in compression bandages and ice packs. Friends have been coming by to check on me. As this is my first time injuring my knee in all my years of dancing, several of them have pointed out, “You’re not as young as you used to be.”

I mean, they didn’t have to go and bring my age into this.

It’s funny, and by that I mean it’s not funny, that Matt and I have been working on jumps and tricks for the last two weeks without any MAJOR problems. Then this happened during a jump that I’ve done a hundred times before. I don’t know–I must have favored my left side as I landed. It all happened so fast. Thankfully, I’m not sitting here writhing in agony. Mostly I’m emotional, frustrated. This last year has been SUCH A BITCH, one sickness or disappointment after another, so this is just ONE MORE THING. And for the record, I’m done. Whoever’s listening up there, I’ve had enough.

This is me crying uncle. (You win.)

(Note: About this point in the blog, I left the dance studio and drove home, where I am now. Don’t worry–I used my right leg to drive.)

To be clear, I’m not in pain currently. I wasn’t even in pain when I injured myself and during the last part of the routine, which I had to hop my way through. Granted, if I rotate my leg a certain way, something feels “off,” but it’s not this shooting, awful thing. The worse part is that I can’t stand on it.

Immediately following The Great Knee Screwup of 2018, I sat on the floor and scooted my way to the wall. Then Matt got a compression bandage out of my car, and a nurse who was at the event wrapped my leg with it, and my friend the studio owner gave me ice packs to put around it. (Apparently I’m not the first dancer this has happened to, as her freezer was FILLED with ice packs.) Then another dancer, who was wearing a brace on their knee, came over to talk to me about care and “what possibly happened.” Later I called a friend who’s an orthopedic surgeon, and he said, “Come by my office on Monday.” When I thank his wife for taking my call so late, she said, “You’re like family.” Later another dancer friend came over and sat on the floor with me for nearly an hour so I wouldn’t be alone. Then a guy I barely knew came over to give me a hug, and another guy I just met tonight let me lean on him while I hobbled to my car.

My point being, in the midst of a less-than-ideal situation, I was well cared for. Fawned over, really. Plus, I’ve already had multiple offers from friends for me to borrow their crutches starting tomorrow. One friend said, “I have TWO PAIRS you can choose from.” Then they added, “I’m a total klutz.” So that’s huge, knowing that I’m not alone in this incident, either specifically or generally. You know, because sometimes it can feel like the universe is picking on you personally. But the truth is, I’m not the only one whose body or soul is or has been overwhelmed. One dancer tonight said, “This is a contact sport,” and I think it would be just as true to say that LIFE is a contact sport. In other words, it really doesn’t matter how old you are or whatever you want to blame it on–and it’s certainly tempting for me to blame myself, blame my shoes, or blame the floor–but no one gets through this thing without their fair share of challenges.

And yes, I hate that, but I didn’t make the rules down here.

Matt said someone sent him a video of our routine, and that–with one notable exception he described as “like a sports injury you’d see on television”–it really looks great, even the part after the injury. He said, “I don’t know how you kept going.” (My answer: “Adrenaline.”) Honestly, I’m afraid to watch the video. Despite the fact that I was there and lived through it, I’m not sure I can bring myself to SEE my leg contort and bend in ways God never intended it to. Feeling it was bad enough. But alas, I probably will watch the video before I see the doctor on Monday, since it might give us a clue as to what exactly happened.

Ugh. There’s a lot that I don’t like about this situation. I hate that I’m propped up in my mom’s recliner and that my knee is throbbing. I hate that the routine we worked so hard on wasn’t “perfect,” I hate that it’s going to take me five minutes to get to the bathroom when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee, and I hate that my list of trials and tribulations from this last year keeps getting longer and longer. Honestly, I’m trying not to bitch, I’m just tired of “being strong” and saying, “It’ll be all right.” I’m worn out. On the inside. Also, I’m scared that my injured knee will become “a thing,” like that I’ll be afraid to use it for the rest of my life and that I’ll end up walking around like Quasimodo in order to avoid hurting it again. I realize that’s a dramatic image, but this is a big deal for me. First, I use my legs to make a living. Second, I want so badly for my body and me to trust each other. Because fundamentally I think we’re on the same side, and I really have been trying to listen to it lately. And then this.

Phew.

It’s been a long day. Now it’s two in the morning, and I should get some rest. In this moment, that’s all I can do–rest, ice, compression, and elevate (RICE). Sure, I’m worried about what will happen next, but that doesn’t make THIS MOMENT better. So in this moment, I’m choosing to be grateful for the goodness that’s manifested itself all around me this evening, take a deep breath, and take all of this one day–one moment–at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We follow the mystery, never knowing what’s next.

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The Re-Oriental (Blog #605)

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There’s a theory in psychology that you can tell a lot about a person if you know what their three most favorite movies are–because it tells you what’s going on in their subconscious. And whereas it’s not my intent to discuss my three most favorite movies in this post, I would like to discuss my FOURTH most favorite movie–Tombstone. Hum, why do I like this movie–psychologically, that is? It’s about the wild west and a band of outlaws called The Cowboys, and Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday (and their friends) absolutely clean their clocks. I guess that’s it. Their such badasses; they don’t take any shit from anybody else. They stand up for themselves. Their simply not–what’s the word?–afraid to face their demons.

There’s this scene toward the beginning of the movie–Wyatt Earp has just rolled into Tombstone (the town) and enters a saloon called The Oriental. Well, the place is real fancy, like nicer than your mom’s living room, but there’s hardly anyone in the place because their card dealer is a total jerk, a real blowhard. Wyatt asks the owner, “Why don’t you get rid of this guy?” The owner says, “I’m too scared.” So Wyatt says, “I’ll do it.” And just like that Wyatt calls the guy’s bluff and tosses him out on his ear.

So get this shit. Last night I had a dream about The Oriental. However, instead of it being a saloon, it was a hotel–a huge, grand hotel. This is like a theme for me; I can’t tell you the number of hotel dreams I’ve had. The last time I brought up a huge, grand hotel dream to my therapist, she said, “That’s you–big and grand.” Considering the fact that I also have A LOT of construction dreams about building houses, an activity which I think correlates to my building a new life (both internally and externally), I personally see hotels as representing that which is temporary, as well as the need to rest.

But back to last night’s dream. I’m in a swimming pool (water dreams are pretty much non-stop for me) and say, “I’m going to change [my bathing suit.]” The problem is that I can’t find my room, Number 364. Two people give me directions, but the room isn’t where it’s “supposed” to be. So I’m running all over the place–upstairs, downstairs, you name it. Finally I find the right room number, but on the inside is a sweet shop, a restaurant. And then I woke up. Looking at the clock, I noticed it was one in the afternoon.

I’d slept for eleven hours and was still tired.

This afternoon my friend Matt and I rehearsed for our upcoming dance routine at our friend Bonnie’s house. I mean, we rehearsed at her house; the performance is in Northwest Arkansas. Anyway, we worked for several hours. And whereas we got a lot done–the routine is really coming together–my body hurt pretty much the entire time. I have this issue with my right hip, and I guess one of the new moves we’ve been learning irritates the hell out of it. Or at least my doing the move wrong irritates the hell out of it. That’s the thing with aerials–the moves themselves aren’t that bad if you do them right, it’s just figuring out HOW to do them right that hurts.

I don’t have any pictures from our dance rehearsal, but here’s a picture of me with Bonnie’s new boots, which I think are absolutely fabulous. Check out that dollar sign!

Now it’s almost midnight, and I’m icing my hip with a bag of frozen blueberries in an effort to minimize the damage from earlier. Hopefully that, the drugs I just took, and a good night’s rest will do the trick. We’ll see. I may have to go to the chiropractor this week. They do this ultrasound thing that really helps with inflammation. I mean, whatever it takes.

But back to last night’s dream and a couple things that fascinate me. First, The Oriental. The obvious connection is to the movie Tombstone, in which case it would be a reference to finding my voice and learning to stand up for and take care of myself. But I think there’s also a wordplay in the name of the hotel–The Oriental–that refers to my current quest to “orient to” or follow my own path in life. (I guess you could call what I’m doing The Re-Oriental.) Second, the room I was looking for, Number 364. The obvious connection here is that 364 is one day shy of a full year (and is the exact number of days one book I recently read about the sun and moon suggested using if you wanted to make your own calendar), so that would be a reference to time. But for me it’s also a reference to my birthday (9/13), since 364 can also be written as 9/4 (because 3 plus 6 is 9), and so can my birthday (because 1 plus 3 is 4).

I realize the birthday/math part is potentially confusing, but I’m always doing this, adding numbers together to see if they match, and it’s the first place my mind went when I woke up this afternoon. Anyway, my birthday would still be a reference to time, and that would make sense because in the dream I couldn’t find my room, and in my real life it feels like I “can’t find the time” or don’t have enough of it. That’s what they say about dream interpretation. WHAT in your waking life FEELS this way?

When I consider the fact that in the beginning of the dream I said, “I’m going to change” and then ended up in a sweet shop/restaurant, the time thing makes sense. That is, I see sweet shops and restaurants as places to kick back, relax, and recharge. And yet I’m always in such a damn hurry to change–running from here to there, thinking I need to move into that new construction–that I rarely remember to slow down, rest, and take better care of myself. Even when my body hurts and WANTS to rest. So the sweet shop is a reminder that there’s TIME to chill out, that this is WHAT time is for–for changing, for re-orienting, for–what’s the word?–healing.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some days, most days, are a mixed bag. We cry, we laugh, we quit, we start again. That's life. In the process, we find out we're stronger than we thought we were, and perhaps this is healing.

"

On Being Distressed (Blog #604)

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It’s just before midnight, and my body is in rebellion. First, my energy meter has been in the red all day. Second, the muscles in my back are on all-out strike. I’m not sure what it is. My shoulder’s been jacked up for a couple months now. I should probably do something to fix that, like other than hope and pray about it. Because that ain’t working. Nor is Tylenol. And did I mention that I have dry skin on my right elbow? Ugh. It’s all so overwhelming.

I’m just falling apart.

Yesterday a high school senior in Alma I met while working backstage at The Wizard of Oz invited me to come paint sets with her for the school’s upcoming production of The Addams Family (a musical). So this afternoon I took the opportunity to get out of the house and out of my head. And whereas it was tough on my body (my right shoulder is seriously pissed about my decision to make it work), it ended up being the perfect thing for my soul. First, there were other people there, so I got some human interaction. Second, I pretty much got an entire set piece–the stairs–all to myself. So I got to do what I wanted. Well, three of us did put the base coat–brown–on the stair rails and spindles, but then I put on a second coat of gray and a third coat of black solo.

Here’s a picture of where I left things this evening about 10:30. To be clear, someone else did the walls. I just worked on the stairs and railing.

It takes a village.

Here’s another picture from the side of the stairs, closer up, so you can see the different colors. Adding gray and black on top of the brown is one way to make new wood look old, and in theater, sets that have had this done are referred to as being “distressed.” Once they add in the correct lighting–Voila!–it’ll look totally creepy and kooky (and all together ooky).

Distressed. That’s how I’ve felt lately. Not only is my body out of whack (it’s hurting as we speak), but I also don’t know what to do with my life. Better said, I don’t know HOW to make my dreams come true. This is a tape that plays constantly in my head–that I SHOULD be doing SOMETHING more than I am–but I don’t KNOW what that thing is. Talk about stressful. Meanwhile, I really don’t feel well enough TO BE DOING any additional work. So in my best moments, I try to be thankful that I have time to rest, take things easy, and figure things out.

Recently I read this poem by the mystic Rumi–

The spiritual path wrecks the body
and afterwards restores it to health.
It destroys the house to unearth the treasure,
and with that treasure builds it better than before.

Boy, if that first line doesn’t make you want to be spiritual, I don’t know what will. Seriously, I’m always saying I don’t recommend this work, and here’s yet another reason why. Your body will suffer. Let’s put THAT on a church billboard and see who shows up on Sunday morning. That being said, the part about the body being restored sounds pretty delightful. Ugh. I’m personally still waiting on that part, the being-put-back-together part. And that’s okay. Things are better than they were a year ago. Really, better than they’ve been for the last twenty years, at least in terms of sinus infections. I haven’t had one of those in about eight months. That’s huge. Plus, it clearly takes time to distress oneself, so it’s only natural that it would take time to un-distress oneself as well.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A break is no small thing to give yourself.

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The Law of the Vital Few (Blog #601)

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Today has been go, go, go. This afternoon I had a Skype consultation with a posture/exercise guru about muscle imbalances in my body. And whereas he didn’t tell me much more than I already knew (my shoulders are rounded, my head sticks forward, my hips are tilted forward), he did give me a lot of good information about how things in the body work together. For example, if your shoulders are elevated (like mine are), that most likely means that the muscles along your shoulders are too strong, but also that the muscles in your mid-back are too weak. So fixing the problem–apparently–becomes a twofold task: stretch the too strong or tight muscles, and strengthen or “work out” the weak ones.

It never hurts to have more information.

As I have quite a few muscle imbalances in my body, my first inclination to my assessment today was to be overwhelmed. How am I ever going to fix all this? I mean, one of my issues is that I sleep on my left side, so my body is apparently shrink-wrapped into a scrunched-up position on right side. So what the hell, now I have bad habits even while I’m sleeping? A guy can’t catch a break. That being said, the consultant today said that some problems I thought I had and assumed were terrible (like my hips tilting sideways and my feet pronating) really aren’t that bad. So I’ve been telling myself that it never hurts to have more information.

Now I can better make a plan.

After the call, I spent the rest of the day running errands in Fort Smith. Last night after having fixed the door on my parents’ dishwasher, I discovered the dishwasher was leaking. Ugh. There was water all over the floor. Anyway, that was my first order of business this afternoon–trying to track down a new gasket or rubber seal. (After going to three different stores, I think I’m going to have to order one online.) Then I went to Lowe’s for a part to fix my dad’s leaky faucet (everything leaks around here), then I went to Home Depot because I forgot Plumber’s Putty at Lowe’s. Then I went to three different places looking for a pair of shoes for a dance performance I have coming up (I found the perfect pair for twenty bucks at the third place), then I went to the vitamin store because I was out of the few supplements that I take.

And no, I don’t mean “a few hundred.”

Finally, after the sun went down, I made my way back to Van Buren, where I picked up a new interior lightbulb for my car, Tom Collins, as well as a prescription for my upset stomach. (My doctor recently suggested something new.) Back at the house, I fixed Dad’s leaky sink. Like, it actually works. Well, except for the fact that you have to turn the cold water handle in the opposite direction now. Like away from you instead of toward you. But whatever. Dad said he’s smart enough to figure it out.

So that’s good to know.

After I’d put all my tools away and cleaned up Dad’s sink, Dad pointed out that it needed to be re-caulked. I said, “It sure would have been nice if you’d told me this sooner.” (Yeah, yeah, I know–if “ifs” and “buts” were candy and nuts, we’d all have a Merry Christmas.) “I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Dad said. “You don’t have to do it tonight.” But since I had “sink” on the brain, I dragged my supplies out again and got to work. And now it’s done. Yippee.

The consultant today told me about something called The Pareto Principle, which states that roughly 80 percent of the effects come from 20 percent of the causes. This is also called The Law of the Vital Few, and applied to business means that 80 percent of a given company’s sales come from 20 percent of their customers. Applied to my body and all it’s imbalances, the guy said, it means that 80 percent of my problems (muscle tension and soreness, headaches, etc.) come from 20 percent of my issues (back, shoulders, neck). I really like this explanation, since it reminds me that I don’t have to nit-pick and worry about every little thing in order to get noticeable results.

I think The Law of the Vital Few could be applied to one’s personal life as well. For example, of all the problems I’ve brought up in therapy over the last four years, the majority of them have boiled down to a boundaries issue. Not that I didn’t have plenty of other issues when I walked into my therapist’s office that first time, but “having healthy boundaries” is what we’ve consistently discussed from day one because–at least for me–having good boundaries solves the most problems. So I think it’s important to figure out what your vital few are. What are those few actions you take (or can take) that will alleviate the most stress in your life?

Please share your answers in the comments below.

My vital few are:
1) Writing this blog every day
2) Going to therapy
3) Having good boundaries
4) Getting enough sleep and taking care of my body
5) Dancing

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All great heroes, at some point, surrender to the unknown.

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More Listening (Blog #596)

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Last night I slept well. Better than great. This morning I had a delightful breakfast, visited with my dad, and worked on organizing old photos. Then I read for maybe thirty minutes and took a nap because I was for whatever reason dog-tired. The nap was wonderful. Amazing really. Still, I woke up exhausted.

Pushing myself a bit, I went for a walk. Let’s move around, I thought. A little fresh air can’t hurt. So that’s what I did. Then I came back home, read a little more, and had dinner. Mom made chicken and rice. Yum.

Now it’s 9:15, and I’m still zapped. I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sick, I just don’t have much oomph. I don’t know, maybe we really are meant to sleep more in the winter. Personally, I’m starting to believe this getting dark early business is the universe’s way of saying, “Turn the lights off, damn it. Go to bed. Sleep.”

Earlier I tried blogging from my laptop, but my internet connection was bad, and I couldn’t upload tonight’s photo or save anything. After ten minutes of this nonsense, I finally gave up. Stop fighting, I thought. Use your phone.

So that’s what I’m doing.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve fought with my laptop and internet connection since starting this blog. The number of times I’ve forced myself to stay awake in order get this done. It’s all been my choice, of course, but it’s been exhausting. Plus, much of it was while I was sick with a chronic sinus infection or the flu. Like, my body’s been through a lot this last year, and on top of everything, I was push, push, pushing it to do more.

So dark at four in the afternoon or not, no wonder my body wants to rest.

I’m trying to do my best to listen. To not push through, to not force myself, and to not freak out and assume something is terribly wrong. I’m dying. I have a disorder. Instead, I’m just trying to listen and not complicate things. My body wants to rest. My body wants to relax. It’s that simple.

In response to this simple information, I’m about to end this and get ready for bed. For me, this will be is a small but powerful act of self-care. Less fighting. Less pushing. More listening to myself.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

"

Today’s Affirmation (Blog #543)

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Ugh. This afternoon I worked cleaning up a friend’s garage and backyard and got filthy dirty, absolutely covered in sweat and deep-woods bug repellent. I love being employed, but yuck. Thankfully, all that’s left to do is bundle up some branches and set them by the road. Anyway, I rushed home afterwards in order to take a shower (ah-glorious) then head to a dance lesson with my friends Bonnie and Todd at their house. Running a bit behind, I texted Bonnie–“I’m on my way.”

Bonnie’s reply: Thumbs up.

Arriving at Bonnie and Todd’s, I let myself in the front door and found Bonnie and Todd in the kitchen. “Want some dinner?” they said. “The answer’s always yes,” I replied. What a lovely surprise! I thought. Anyway, when we finished dinner, I said, “Are y’all ready to dance?”

They paused.

“Didn’t we schedule that for tomorrow night?”

I paused.

“Oh crap. That’s right, we did. I guess I got confused.”

Y’all, these are the kinds of friends (and dance students) you want to have. Not only did Bonnie and Todd rise to the occasion and do their scheduled lesson a night in advance, but they also didn’t make a fuss about the fact that I invited myself over and ended up eating half their evening meal.

I said, “What did you think when I sent the message about me being on my way?”

Bonnie said, “I thought, Marcus is coming over!”

Later I joked, “Normally I’m running late to almost everything, but tonight–for once!–I was EXTREMELY EARLY.”

Now it’s 11:30, and I’m ready for bed. I’m plumb wore out. I haven’t read a single page of anything all day. The only thing I want to do is crawl into bed with a book about the constellations and read until I pass out. Or just pass out. I need to take care of myself. This promises to be a long week–full of work and plenty other things to do–so the more rest I get, the better. My affirmation for today is, I take care of my body, and my body takes care of me.

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.

"

A Simple Acorn (Blog #541)

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Last night I had a friend visit from out-of-town, and we spent the evening catching up and partying. Specifically, at dinner, I drank a frozen margarita bigger than my head. It was delicious. I enjoyed every drop. That being said, I woke up in the middle of the night with a headache, so perhaps I overdid it. I don’t know. I’m still learning about moderation.

This morning–because of the margarita–I woke up later than usual, so my no-caffeine-past-noon rule got pushed back a couple hours. Otherwise, I’ve put myself back on track today. I ate three sensible meals. I drank a lot of water. I went for a run (in the rain). I stretched.

Yesterday I blogged that I’m not exercising for the current benefits, but rather for the future benefits. In other words, I don’t need immediate results, nor do I expect the changes produced by my workouts to be like my oatmeal (instant). Granted, I’m sure there are immediate physical benefits to exercising like reduced stressed and increased blood circulation, but my point was that you don’t get a flat stomach as a reward for one jog around the neighborhood. One of my friends pointed out, however, that there ARE immediate EMOTIONAL benefits to working out. I agree. Not only do I feel more “alive” when I exercise, but I also have an increased sense of accomplishment and self-esteem as I go throughout the day.

I spent this afternoon reading a chapter or two in four different books–one about the history of alchemy, one about the sun and moon, one about why we sleep (I’ve mentioned this one before), and one about money (something that terrifies me, so I’ve decided to learn more about it). Part of me thinks I “should” just pick one book and read it all the way through, but that’s simply not how I roll. (The book about money said that anytime you use the word “should,” you could replace it with the word “want” and see if the statement is still true for you. “I WANT to pick one book and read it all the way through.” No, that’s not true for me. I’d rather read several concurrently.)

Lately I’ve been thinking about the idea of “the slight edge,” a theory (and book by Jeff Olson) that proposes (among other things) that if you were to read just ten pages in a book every day, you would reliably read three-hundred pages of new material every month. Go figure, math. Anyway, this concept can obviously be applied to other endeavors besides reading. You could eat a little better every morning. You could walk a bit further every evening. The slight edge–it’s just another way of explaining what I’ve been saying over and over again for the last week–small actions, done consistently, add up.

There’s an idea in spiritual and psychological circles that says one of the goals of healing is to take the emotional charge out of your memories. In other words, if something that happened five or fifteen or twenty-five years ago still makes you angry, upset, or distraught, that’s a clue that part of you is “stuck” there, since events that are fully processed and integrated tend to have a “neutral” quality about them. Anyway, the book I’m reading about money says the same thing–money in and of itself should be a neutral experience for you–it shouldn’t be emotionally charged with worry, shame, embarrassment, or disgust.

Doesn’t that sound nice?

One of the exercises the book proposes is to write down your top ten negative thoughts about money–you know–those “biggies” that automatically pop into your brain whenever a bill shows up in your mailbox or whenever you reach for your wallet and find it thinner than you’d like it to be. For example, one negative thought might be, “There’s never enough.” So just before blogging, I did this, then I did the next part of the exercise, which was to write an OPPOSITE thought or affirmation about money. I’ll spare you all twenty statements that I came up with, but here are four of them (two pairs of negatives and their opposites)–

Negative thought: It won’t work.
Positive thought: It will work. The universe always find a way. I always find a way.

Negative thought: I’ll always be poor.
Positive thought: I’ll always be prosperous. I couldn’t keep money away even if I wanted to.

So get this shit. Not two minutes after I finished this exercise and wrote, “I couldn’t keep money away even if I wanted to,” a friend of mine texted me about a job opportunity, some temporary work that’s available for ten days starting next week. And whereas I’m hard-headed (I thought, It won’t work), I’m not THAT hard-headed, so I checked into it, and as of now, it’s gonna happen. (I’ll write more about it as things materialize.) Granted, it’s not my dream job or my dream pay, but it is A JOB and it is GOOD PAY. Plus, it sounds fun. Like, I WANT to do it. And as my dad said, “You never know what will happen. You could meet someone. This could turn into something else.”

The universe always find a way.

One of favorite mythological images is that of the baby Jesus in the manger. Taken as a symbol and not just a matter of history, this picture of the Son of God being born in a stable teaches us to not judge a person’s (or a situation’s) potential by the package they’re delivered in. (Don’t judge a book, or a savior, by it’s cover.) Caroline Myss points out that the divine works in paradoxes. What seems big is small. What seems small is big. In other words, despise not small actions. Despise not small beginnings. The largest oak tree begins as a simple acorn.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Sickness and health come and go, just like everything else. It's just the way life is."

How You and the Seasons Change (Blog #540)

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Tomorrow is the Autumn Equinox, the day that marks the official beginning of fall and one of the two days during the year that has the same number of “light” hours as it does “dark” hours. From now until the Winter Solstice, the “days” will grow ever-shorter. Not to be a pessimist, but this means that darkness will be gradually taking over for the next three months. (Dun, dun, dun.) Still, this also means that the stars will be out for increasingly longer periods of time, and I do love looking at the stars.

This afternoon, after a full five days on my new “add a little exercise to your life, damn it” program, I made the mistake of stepping on a scale. And whereas I assumed that I would have lost, I don’t know, maybe a quarter of a pound, I actually gained an entire pound. This could be for a number of reasons, of course, including the fact that I weighed at a different time of day than I did before or the possibility that I’m gaining muscle. (Grunt.) Maybe I’m retaining fluids. (Do these jeans make my butt look big?) Regardless, it was still a wah-wah moment.

Every day when I work out, I tell myself that I’m NOT working out for immediate results. (Good, Marcus, because you’re not getting them.) In other words, I’m not working out for today, I’m working out for some future day. Specifically, I’m working out for March 20, 2019, the Spring Equinox, and THAT means that starting tomorrow I have 179 days (91 days for fall and 88 days for winter) to get myself in shape. What that looks like, I can’t exactly say, but I can say the MOST important thing for me right now is to establish a routine, to set aside time every day (or almost every day) of the week to take care of my physical body by exercising, stretching, and so on.

Currently I’m at a coffee shop. There’s a sign behind the counter that says, “Excellence is not an act; it’s a habit.” What this has to do with caffeine, I don’t know, but for me it’s the perfect reminder. You don’t transform your body or soul in the blink of an eye. No, to get from one season in your life to the next requires a process, and processes happen one day at a time. In alchemy there’s an expression that says, “Pray, read, read, read again, toil, and discover.” To me this communicates the same idea. You don’t go instantly from asking for something (praying) to receiving it (discovering). There are steps you have to take. There’s work you have to do.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Love  is all around us.

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Working on Myself (Blog #539)

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It’s six-thirty in the evening, and I’m headed to work (to dance) in an hour. I’ve spent the day exercising and reading. Mostly reading, since I’ve been pushing myself to finish an autobiography I started this last weekend. Just a while ago I sat down at home to write the blog, but the internet on my phone, which is also the internet I use for my laptop, was dragging ass. It was slower than Christmas! This tends to happen during the day when everyone else and their mother (no offense, Mom) are on the airwaves. That’s another reason why I’ve traditionally blogged at night–the internet is faster.

Slow internet is one of the MOST frustrating things I consistently run into with this project. Or any project. Earlier today I tried to watch some dance videos, but they wouldn’t download. Ugh. I’m so spoiled. What did people do before this miracle–high-speed internet–existed? (What?! They played outside? No way.) Anyway, since my life is plenty full of frustration already, I decided to leave the house and blog elsewhere. (Some problems have easy answers.) Now I’m at a local cafe and just ordered a smoothie, since, in addition to being frustrated, I’m apparently starving.

These two feelings–frustration and hunger–do not go well together .

Okay, I’m sipping on the smoothie and calming down. Everything’s going to be all right, Marcus. Everything is going to be all right.

Hum. I’m not sure exactly when this bad mood creeped up on me. Maybe it has to do with some of my dreams last night. Or the fact that I woke up early-early this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. Or this new routine–going to bed and waking up sooner, drinking less coffee, working out–I’m trying to put into place. It has been my experience that whenever I try to whip myself into shape (that’s a rather graphic phrase, now that I think about it), “the old me” puts up a good fuss. What?! We’re not sleeping in anymore? We have to do push-ups?!

Boo. Hiss.

This afternoon I started looking over an exercise program that proposes to correct postural imbalances, something that’s a concern of mine. And whereas several of the elements of the program require a gym membership (which I don’t have), I’m telling myself that any information or progress is good information or progress and that I don’t have to incorporate every suggestion one-hundred percent in order to see benefits. As a recovering straight-A student and teacher’s pet, this shift in thinking is a big deal for me.

Huge.

You have to have a practice if you want to see results.

I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point during the last 539 days, I started thinking of this blog as my job. Like, it’s not a hobby or something I do just for fun. It’s work, and I take my work seriously, which is why I continue to do it every day, every damn day. Granted, this work doesn’t have regular hours, but I’m trying to get it that way. Likewise, even though I don’t have a typical job or schedule, I’m trying to organize my daytime hours. Once my therapist told me, “If I’m not working, I’m working out,” and that’s been on my mind today, especially while exercising. She was talking about physical health, but to me her mantra means that you have to have a practice, a routine of some sort, if you want to see results in ANY area of your life. Considering my circumstances, maybe a better way for me to say it would be, “Even though I’m not working in the traditional sense, I’m working on myself (by exercising my body, mind, and soul).”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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The One in Front of You (Blog #536)

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I don’t know what’s happening to me. Last night I hung up a dark comforter in front of my bedroom window to block the outside light and went to bed before midnight. Then this morning I woke up at 7:45. For breakfast, I limited myself to two cups of coffee, and not even two big ones. (What? Moderation?) By 9:15, I was WORKING–penning a blog for another business that I write for occasionally. To top it all off, I ate LUNCH–my SECOND meal of the day–at 11:00. (I met a friend, was EARLY, and was one of the FIRST people in the restaurant.) This evening I went for a jog as the sun went down, ate a respectable dinner, then took a shower. Now it’s 10:45, and I’m ready for bed. What the hell?

Is this how normal people live?

For most of this afternoon, I “babysat” a house that belongs to some friends of mine while two manly men from a local business installed carpets in one of the bedrooms. And whereas I spent a good amount of time dicking around on the internet, I also read quite a bit more in Why We Sleep. (I’ve been reading it for three days now. It’s a thick book.) Anyway, the author, Matthew Walker, really has me sold on the idea that you should get eight to nine hours of sleep every night. Apparently anything less (like, six hours a night) is consistently linked to poorer concentration, lower immunity, higher blood pressure, heart problems, cancer, and dementia.

Whenever I decide to make changes regarding my health and routine, a good part of me is terrified. I think, But what about that thing coming up? Is this worth the effort if I can’t do it perfectly? However, at the same time, another part of me is excited. That part thinks, Yeah, I enjoy a good routine. I remember SUNRISES and EXERCISING.

Okay, maybe not sunrises.

While running tonight, I thought about how good it feels to USE my body, to MOVE. Granted, it didn’t feel good ALL OVER–I still have a few aches and pains–but it did feel good to breathe deep and to break a sweat. (I swear I’m not going to become one of those irritating internet fitness people.) I don’t know–for the last year my health has been so unpredictable. For months I didn’t even come close to having the strength or motivation required for moving about or making a plan and sticking to it. (We’ll see how the sticking to it part goes.) But now it feels like I do. Thankfully (so very thankfully), my body appears to be on the mend.

Going back to being terrified, I worry that my health will relapse or that I’ll drop the proverbial ball. You know, like I’ll get bored with all this “health shit” and go back to late nights, beer, and chocolate cake. But I’m doing my best to take this One Day at Time, Sweet Jesus, and not worry so much about next week or even tomorrow. As one of my friends used to tell me, “You can’t eat tomorrow’s meal today.” In other words, think about the meal (or opportunity to exercise or go to bed early) in front of you. Just the one in front of you.

Now, for reasons that should be obvious, I’m going to bed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"We were made to love without conditions. That's the packaging we were sent with."