On Leaving and Being Already Gone (Blog #1019)

1 Comment January 13, 2020 CoCo

This afternoon I saw my chiropractor who works with emotions and their impact on the physical body, and we ended up talking about a few of the “big hitters” in my life–my dad going to prison for six years when I was a teenager, my mom going to the National Institute of Health (for a year) when I was six or seven, our house burning down when I was four. And whereas discussing these subjects is usually a cerebral experience for me, today it was an emotional one. At least it got emotional when my chiropractor said, “There was a lot of LEAVING in your life.”

“Yeah,” I said, starting to cry. “Dad left, Mom left, our stuff left.”

Well, we’d just talked about the the fact that due to my being a child I wasn’t always told exactly what was going on, so my chiropractor added, “And you were LEFT out.”

Looking back, I know that everyone involved was doing the best they knew how, even me. This is something my chiropractor always pushes, the idea that any emotional response I had as a child–or even have now as an adult–was and is completely appropriate. For example, I remember flipping shit once as a five or six year old when my parents went out to eat and LEFT me and my sister with a babysitter. Seriously, y’all, I lost it. Well, today it hit me that OF COURSE I’d lose it seeing my parents LEAVE. That’s exactly what they did the night of the fire (went out to eat and left us with a babysitter), and look what happened THEN.

Now, as an adult I can rationalize that my parents’ leaving didn’t cause bad things to happen. And yet that’s what it FELT like as a child. That’s what got internalized. It’s why, perhaps, I have such strong reactions even today around issues of abandonment and loss. Thankfully, these reactions are less severe, less frequent than they used to be, no doubt a result of my willingness to not only accept “that little boy,” as my chiropractor calls him, but also myself as an adult. More and more, I see this as my job and my job alone–to parent myself. Not that I’m not eternally grateful for my family and all they’ve given me and continue to give. I most certainly welcome and accept their love, affection, and understanding. At the same time, I know that I’m the only person CAPABLE of being with me twenty-four hours a day.

This evening while painting some cabinets for a friend, I finished listening to The Way of the Rose by Clark Strand and Perdita Finn, a book about Mother Mary and praying the rosary that I recently blogged about here. Anyway, according to the authors, one of the things Mother Mary implores people to do is “move at the speed of life.” That is, the sun rises, seasons change, and trees grow–all without getting in a hurry. And then there’s us. We want everything done now. We’re impatient with our food orders, our checkout lines, and even our own healing. That’s what I thought today when I cried at the chiropractor’s office. Sure it’s nice to get this out, and it only took thirty years. And what about what’s left? But if I truly believe I’m part of–woven into–this universe, then I also have to believe that I’m exactly WHERE I need to be in it, that everything is unfolding as it should. That just as winter is supposed to be here (in the Northern Hemisphere anyway), this season of my life is supposed to be here too.

Tonight when I got home from painting I dropped a glass jug of water on the concrete floor in our garage. Well, it shattered. Glass flew everywhere. And whereas I started to get upset, I immediately thought of a song I’d heard earlier in the day, one of my favorite’s by Sugarland–“Already Gone.” The tune is about, among other things, a girl who falls in love despite the advice she’s getting from others. It’s like, too late for all that. Anyway, tonight I thought, What’s the use in getting upset about the broken jar? What’s the use in blaming yourself?

It’s already gone.

Along these lines, I’m finding a lot of peace in the thought that all the people and things that “left me” when I was a child were already gone too. I’ve talked before about how when we incarnate on this planet we’re joining a show already in progress, and this is what I mean, that the events and circumstances that took my parents and even my material possessions away were set in motion long before I showed up. Granted, they FELT personal, but they weren’t. This is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, realizing that whatever happened to you would have happened to ANYBODY in your situation. Because the train was already coming down the tracks, and–please–you think a child could have stopped it? I think of people I know whose parents were total assholes. And whereas this sucks, their parents were already gone too. What I mean is their kids didn’t MAKE them that way, they were assholes before. (Their kids were just a convenient target.) Likewise, I wasn’t the REASON my parents and my stuff had to leave.

Shit happens on planet earth.

And yet for all the shit that happens here, we can always come back to ourselves and our own good hearts. We can always make space for whatever arises right here, right now. We can always tell ourselves, Sweetheart, no matter what anyone else says or does, I will never leave you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

The symbols that fascinate us are meant to transform us.

The Seeds from Which Your Strength Tree Grows (Blog #1013)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"It's really good news to find out that the world isn't as scary as you thought it was."

There Are Other Cards to Pull (Blog #993)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"No one's story should end on the ground."

The Stiller You Are (Blog #965)

1. On slowing down

Today I lay in bed reading a book I started–I don’t know–in May. I’ve had my nose poked in numerous other books lately (thank God I have a lot of bookmarks), but saw this book last night and got re-interested. Anyway, my original plan was to go to the library this afternoon, but after I started reading this book I decided to stay home. I thought, You don’t always have to be running around. So back to my bed, back to my book I went. What’s the lesson, kids?

Everything else can wait.

2. On silence

Yesterday while I was at the library watching videos, there was a moment when one video ended before the next one started and there was complete silence. Y’all, I nearly flipped out. It was–what’s the word?–unsettling. I guess in today’s world there’s always SOMETHING going on. In my world, there’s always something going IN–tater tots in my mouth, noise in my ears, knowledge in my head. Today I read so much–a hundred and fifty pages of small print–that my eyes started hurting. Y’all, I FINISHED my book, but I kept thinking I needed to read more, to finish ANOTHER BOOk. Now I’m sitting near my window and can hear the rain falling. THIS is what I need, this fundamental reconnection with the basic stillness of life.

3. On knowing thyself

Ever since I started therapy I’ve kept a list of things to talk to my therapist about. And whereas in the beginning I would jot down the list on a piece of paper (or a paint stick that my therapist and I started calling The Paint Stick of Truth) and later throw it away, for the last couple years I’ve kept the list on my computer. (Please don’t hack me; you might see your name.) And whereas I’ve been seeing my therapist for almost six years, we never run out of things to talk about. The list continues to grow.

Often during the last ten minutes of my therapy session I will begin to freak out, like, But there’s stuff on the list we haven’t talked about. This is, of course, the same anxiety I experience when I read only one book a day or look at my bank account–the anxiety of THERE’S NOT ENOUGH (time, information, money). But the truth is–there is. The truth is I’m constantly overwhelmed with time and attention from my therapist, just as I am overwhelmed with information. I’ve probably learned more this year than some of my ancestors learned in a decade. And whereas I’m not to the point I’m willing to say that I’ve been overwhelmed with money, I am willing to say that I’ve seen A LOT of it come and come. So maybe I am overwhelmed with money.

But I’m also overwhelmed with Amazon.

Getting back to my therapy list, I realized today that because I often prioritize my list, it’s become a perfect way for me to know not only WHAT mentally and emotionally drains me, but also HOW MUCH it drains me. Once my therapist said, “If someone or somethings is showing up on your list over and over again, that’s a good sign there’s something wrong.” Her solution? Boundaries, of course. My point being that even if you don’t see a therapist and make a list, it’s important to know what’s under your skin and who’s got your goat. You could even ask your friends, “Is there something I bitch about all the time? What do you think I can’t let go of?” And then stop bitching about it, let go of it. I realize it’s not “that easy,” of course, but I’m saying–start dealing with it. Not just for your benefit, but also for everyone else’s.

The stiller you are, the stiller we are.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

As the ocean of life changes, we must too.

What Do YOU Want to Do? (Blog #942)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

What are you really running away from?

On Changing Toothpastes (Blog #936)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

All your scattered pieces want to come back home.

Something I’m Real Shitty at (Blog #931)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

No one is immune from life’s challenges.

On Motivation and Unconditional Acceptance (Blog #913)

1 Comment September 29, 2019 CoCo

Yesterday I stayed up late doing odd jobs around the house, in part because the mood hit me, in part because I didn’t want to do them today. You know, things like laundry, stuff to get ready for the upcoming week. My thought was, If I get this shit done now, I can have the day off tomorrow. Anyway, it worked. Today I rested. I chilled the eff out. This morning I slept in, read a book, then made breakfast (at noon). Then Mom and I did something we almost never do independently or together–we went to the movie theater. Y’all, we watched Downtown Abbey. It was glorious.

Stop your life this instant and go see it.

After the movie Mom and I picked up Dad and went to my aunts’ house for a late lunch–spaghetti. And whereas spaghetti isn’t on my current meal plan, I made an exception. As I’ve said, I refuse to be an all-or-nothing perfectionist about this. In fact, just to show my inner perfectionist who’s boss, I ate a piece of bread. With five different cheeses on it. (Take that, mister). I did not, however, eat two pieces of bread, nor did I eat the chocolate pie that looked oh-so delicious. After lunch I started reading a book my therapist recommended–Will the Real Me Please Stand Up?–and it said that changing your habits is less a matter of willpower and more a matter of motivation. That is, if you’re really motivated to do something (like fit into your pants), you’ll have the willpower to do it (to say no to chocolate pie).

And what if I’m simply not that motivated, Marcus?

You’ll buy bigger pants.

This evening I’ve continued to rest. By this I mean I’ve continued to read the book I just mentioned. And whereas I’m not completely done, I almost am. Mostly it’s about how to communicate authentically and openly in relationships, how to share your actual self instead of just the mask you wear. One of my takeaways is the idea that there are three things we can do when we talk to another person–ventilate (emotionally vomit on them), manipulate (consciously or unconsciously try to maneuver them to suit our needs), or communicate. (Guess which one is best.) According to the book, communication doesn’t blame, it explains. This was my experience. This is how I feel.

In terms of communication, the book says a lot about listening, how good listening does NOT involve interrupting or giving advice. I know, this sucks. It’s fun to give advice. But apparently good listening isn’t that complicated–you simply pay the eff attention (instead of checking your phone), nod your head, say uh-huh. You validate. Instead of what most of us do, which is 1) dismiss (oh, that’s not a problem!), 2) fix (here’s what you should do), or 3) upstage (if you think that’s bad, listen to what happened TO ME!).

If there’s any magic at all to therapy, any reason I’ve spent thousands of dollars over the last five-and-a-half years, this is it. My therapist listens to me. More than anyone else in my life, hands down, she doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t dismiss anything I say or want to talk about, doesn’t try to fix things or offer advice (unless I ask), and doesn’t upstage. Now, granted, she gets paid for this good behavior, and the advice she has given and the perspectives she has offered have been invaluable. But the most healing thing she’s given me is her unconditional acceptance. Because of this, never once have I felt unheard or unimportant. Never once have I felt brushed off. Consequently, I walk through life differently than I did before. I stand taller.

All because of one person.

Personally, I’m challenged by both my therapist and the book I’m reading to be a better listener. To put my phone away. To not offer advice when it’s not asked for. I mean, do any of us like unsolicited advice? I know I don’t. But doesn’t every one of us want, even need, to be heard and accepted simply for who we are, warts and all ? I know I do.

So what do we do?

We start first. We give someone else what we’d like them to give to us–unconditional acceptance. We say, “Thank you for sharing your experiences and feelings with me. I hear you, I understand, and I still like you. Don’t worry. You have don’t have to change a thing.”