These Hundreds of Thousands of Words (Blog #1094)

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Phew. All day I’ve been tired, sad. And whereas I could blame lack of sleep and a number of other things, the fact is I’ve already begun to grieve the loss of this blog. Including tonight, I only have three more posts to go. I don’t know. It’s weird. Just like when a person dies you go through all those stages–denial, anger, grief, acceptance, bargaining–I’m going through those with this. Denial because, has it really been three years? Anger because of what hasn’t happened, hopes and expectations that haven’t been met. Ugh. All the feelings. The good news being that, so much more than three years ago, I’m open to all the feelings and what they have to teach me. Sweetheart, letting go is never easy.

At times throughout this process I’ve imagined that I’d, I guess, somehow be perfectly healed, or just perfect, on the other side of this thing. And that one of my final posts would be like, here’s how I did it. And how you can too for three easy payments of $127. Alas, if anyone ever pitches you such a deal, run don’t walk away. Because the fact is that no matter what a person learns, they are always and forever still growing. Still a work in progress. As much as people like me may hate it, there is no perfect to get to. If it does exist, perfection is like the casserole I made for dinner tonight. A little bit of everything. One big delicious mess.

With cheese.

This being said, I would like to take this blog as an opportunity to “sum up” what I’ve learned or how I’ve grown as a direct result of this project. My idea being that, although I despise numbered lists and bulleted sub-headings, I’ll go through my blog “categories” one by one and write a few sentences or paragraphs about each one. As these categories became self-evident early on and new ones haven’t been added in maybe a year and a half, I’ve come to see them as themes, or what this time in my life has been all about. The lessons I’ve been learning and doing my best to embody.

So here we go. I’m just going to shoot from the hip. And I’ll try to be brief. (Yeah right, Marcus.)

1. Abundance

Ugh. Does this have to be the first one? This has been a toughy for me, since, as a result of my traumas, I grew up believing that if you love something, just wait, it’ll be taken away from you. And yet my therapist, who has a real hard on for abundance, has shoved it down my throat. Yes, things leave, but other things come around. Thankfully, I have made progress. For one thing, money isn’t terrifying to me anymore. Even though I don’t have much of it. Although now I imagine if I did I wouldn’t be scared of it. It’s just paper. The most important thing being, however, that I really do believe deep down that I’ve been given an abundance of talent, love, help, knowledge, wisdom, and resources (both internal and external) with which to make my way through life. Creatively, I’ve been given an abundance of ideas. This is what counts. I know it’s rough when your bank account is strapped, but don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

2. Affirmations

A lot of self-help books are huge on affirmations, looking in the mirror and saying, “I’m beautiful, rich, and forgiving.” Or whatever. And whereas I’ve tried this shit more times than I care to admit, it hasn’t been what’s worked for me. Instead, the affirmations that have turned my life around, rather than being forced into me, have come out of me. That’s what this blog has been about. Sweetheart, be patient. I’m here for you. So if you like the idea of affirmations, go for it. But don’t open a book to find them. Open your heart.

3. Archetypes and Personalities

More and more I see the world through the lenses of “we’re all different” and “we’re all the same.” And whereas I don’t subscribe to one particular personality system, it’s helped me to be able to label people with archetypes (diva, drama queen, addict, pimp), since it allows me to get impersonal about their behavior. Or even mine. (Of course I’m worried about my outfit; I’m an artist!) Additionally, the more personality systems I study, the more I realize that every archetype and personality type is not only neutral (although it can be animated positively or negatively), but also necessary. God knows we don’t need everyone to an anal-retentive control freak. But God also knows the world would be a much sloppier place without those of us who are. (Wash your damn hands.)

4. Authenticity

This is a buzz word these days, and one my therapist actually dislikes because it’s so “hip.” To me it equates to being honest, even and especially if that honesty looks like anger, sadness, or confusion. You know, the emotions we hide behind our masks. Alas, it doesn’t seem to be something we can achieve every minute of every day (certain niceties are required in a polite society), but it is something we can strive toward. Being real. Being ourselves. My only other thought about it is that I’ve often been as surprised as anyone else when I’ve been able to be assertive or–here’s another word my therapist hates–vulnerable. Like when I cry in public or admit my faults (which, I agree with my therapist, isn’t being vulnerable, it’s being honest). Meaning we often don’t know what our authentic selves look like until they reveal themselves to us.

5. Balance

Is required and looks different for everyone. How do you know you’re out of balance in any area of your life? Your body will tell you. Learn to listen to its subtle and not-so-subtle messages. Additionally, pay attention to your relationships. If they’re full of drama, contention, or anything but an underlying peace, something is out of whack. Chances are you’ll never be able to hold the center point forever, so just keep your eyes on the middle. The rest will take care of itself.

6. Boundaries

My therapist calls boundaries the Holy Grail of personal growth. And whereas I used to think I had them, I realized I didn’t. Pro tip: if you can’t say no or if you tell the most personal details of your life to complete strangers (or vice versa), you don’t either. So get some. Learn to not only say no, but hell no. Figure out what you’re worth and don’t settle for less. Get in touch with your soul, do whatever it says, and never, under any circumstances, sell it. For one thing, it’s not yours to sell. For another, you’ll always regret it. How do you do these things? By learning to say no, hell no. And don’t worry if you “mess up.” Life will, without a doubt, give you another opportunity to excel. As with all things, having good boundaries is a process.

7. Coco’s Favorites

These blogs are my personal favorites. Many are already tagged as such, but I’ll be adding others as I work my way through reading all my old posts.

8. Creativity

People say they’re not creative, but I’m convinced we all are, even if it’s just in the way we make up a story about how we’re not creative, or what someone did that ruined our lives, or how awful things are (when they’re really not). Of course, creativity is better expressed through writing, dancing, knitting, planting, decorating, or whatever, and I’m certain our souls MUST, somehow, expand themselves through creating. So first stop and notice WHAT you’re creating (dinner, drama, dissent), then think about what you’d LIKE to be creating (an encouraging environment, a business, a hilarious blog). Then CHOOSE something different.

9. Dancing

Is good for a hundred reasons. Do it. Even if you don’t like it, consider that you were made to move. Some way, somehow. Your very heart BEATS. Tune into the rhythm of your life. If you ARE willing to give dancing a try, remember what my mentor Maggie tells her students. “Let dancing love you.” If not dancing, then let something, someone. Please, open your heart.

10. Dream Interpretation

I wish I were a master at this or had some of the experiences the people who write all those books about dreams do. Lucid dreaming, predicting the future, and whatnot. I don’t know, my therapist says I have the “most auspicious dreams,” so maybe it’s just easy to think someone else’s life is better or more fabulous than yours. Regardless, I do believe our subconscious/inner wisdom speaks to us a thousand different ways. Through dreams, synchronicities, hunches, bodily sensations, feelings, emotions, and even thoughts. So it’s whatever floats your boat, whatever you’re willing to listen to. Just know that it’s not all as random as it seems. Know that you can trust yourself. You’re wiser than you realize.

11. Emotions

Are not something you primarily think about. They’re something you primarily feel. Also, I hate to break it to you, they’re not something that go away when you shove them down. Like, they just hang out in the shadows. In your shadow. And whereas I wish I had a surefire way for coaxing them out, I’ve learned they come up when they’re ready. The best thing we can do is to listen. Be curious. Love, or at least make space for, whatever arises. Including frustration, anger, grief, sadness, and anything else that gives you snot bubbles. Because that’s your inner wisdom talking. For example, anger often means “get some damn boundaries.” (See above.)

12. Encouragement

Whatever you’re going through, I promise you’re not alone. Yes, your situation is unique to you and is your cross to bear, but it’s not the first time it’s ever happened. In Alcoholics Anonymous they say, “You’re only as sick as you are isolated.” Meaning that a burden is automatically lifted when you stop trying to carry it yourself. So please know that people love you and are rooting for you. Granted, they don’t always know what to say, but I guarantee there are people who would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. People who will cry at your funeral and feel that something important, something they liked, is missing from their lives when you’re gone.

13. Facebook Live

This is where I’ve put the few live videos I’ve done and where I’ve read, out loud, other stories I’ve written. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll do at least one more when this is over.

14. Gratitude

Is often something those self-help books try to force. Don’t worry, be happy. Alas, I’ve found that gratitude, like an affirmation, works best when it springs naturally from the heart. A humbling voice, it says, “Sweetheart, you have everything you could ever need and more.” What’s more, I’m convinced this voice is always there, available even when we are most down. It says, “Life sucks, but we’ve been given this breath, and with this breath we will make it to our next. Or make it home.” So again, listen to your heart. (Not your head.)

15. Growing Up

Involves letting go of the need to blame, being your own parent most of the time, taking responsibility for your life and choices, and sucks. But is absolutely necessary. Also, it’s natural. Stop fighting it.

16. Hope

As stated in The Shawshank Redemption, “is a good thing, maybe the best of things.” So please, please, please allow as much room as is humanly or even divinely possible that even your most challenging circumstance can turn around for the better. On a dime if heaven so sees fit. Along these lines, pray for miracles and expect them to show up.

17. Improv Comedy

Is worth trying or at least taking note of. Because, like life, it requires that you think on your feet, play well with others, and not look back. Audiences may not be forgiving, but improv teaches you to be. So what if the show didn’t go well? It’s over. (Everything in your life is over.) Why is this a good thing? Because now we can play another game.

18. Letting Go

Is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. Because we like what we like and we want it last. Our relationships, our stuff, our identities, our stories and judgments about ourselves and others. Our blogs. But nothing lasts. We don’t get to keep a thing. So work on enjoying whatever it is while it’s here, then letting it go. The way the sun sets, the way a storm ceases. With grace.

19. Myths and Fairy Tales

Aren’t just cute little stories. Rather, within them are embedded the mysteries of life, our personalities, and our struggles. Best thing I ever heard on this topic was that your three favorite movies reveal the path your life is on, and I believe this more and more. Recently through EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) I realized one of my favorite movie characters (for almost twenty years now) was not only hung up on integrity (like I am) but was also embarrassed by his station in life (like I used to be). The idea being that you’re drawn to these characters and their stories for a reason. Your inner wisdom is nudging you forward, giving you a template for what’s possible. Be willing to take the trip.

20. Patience

Is almost harder than letting go. But is one of the most useful traits you could ever hope to develop. Because although the universe is capable of turning on a dime, it rarely does. What’s more, it rarely does what you want it to, when you want it to. Pro tip: the less you insist on having everything your way, the more patient you’ll be. So, in the words of Nancy Byrd Turner, “learn to labor and to wait.” Give yourself the gift of time. To grow. To heal. Nature does not proceed in leaps, and neither do we.

21. Perspective

If I could give everyone one gift, it would be the gift of perspective, the gift of being able to perceive whatever it is thats bothering you (including yourself) in a different way. Alas, since I can’t, go see a therapist. This is what they get paid for. But seriously, what if you could put on a pair of mystical glasses that allowed you to see everything in your life, even the rotten stuff, as heaven’s gift to you? What if you could turn your viewpoint upside down and really see that there’s nothing in your life by accident and that–if it’s there–it’s there for a reason? To challenge you, to grow you, to change you, and maybe even the world, for the better? What if you could look at the mountain you’re facing and, rather than asking God to remove it, absolutely know you were meant to climb it? And then put your boots on. This is my encouragement. Pick up a book, go to church, or bang your head against the wall, not until your circumstances shift, but until your perspective does. Because that’s when you will.

22. Relationships

Seems to be the medium through which everything happens. The bullshit, the learning, and the healing. So look alive. Like or not, no one is alone. We’re all in this together.

23. Self-Acceptance

Means coming to love yourself warts and all, not putting up such a damn front, and being gentle with yourself and others. It means accepting every part of you–even the ugly, angry, and sad parts. The weird thing? The more you accept yourself exactly as you are, the more you accept others and the world exactly as they are. And vice versa. This is why Jesus said don’t judge. Because that which you hold against someone else, sooner or later, you’ll hold against yourself. But as you accept That Which Is Unacceptable in yourself or another, That Which Is Unacceptable becomes your teacher. All parts come bearing gifts. Hold out your hands.

24. Spiritual Practice

Looks different for everyone but is something I’m convinced we all long for and participate in somehow. Maybe one person does it in the kitchen, the way they lovingly prepare the perfect meal to feed their family. Maybe another does it in a chapel. I grew up as a Christian. Last night I prayed the rosary. Now I don’t know what to call myself. More and more, the labels are unimportant. It’s the experience I’m after, the inner knowing that I’m part of something bigger than myself. The conviction that every time I take a breath, God breathes with me. I’m after what the mystics know, the truth that every life, every rock, and every molecule is both sacred and holy.

25. The Physical Body

This could be an entire series of posts. And has been. Suffice it to say that every experience we have on this planet is granted to us through our physical organism. And whereas my personal temptation has been to ignore my body’s signals (information, guidance, wisdom) or be mad it at for hurting or being sick (not good enough), I’ve learned that it is the master and I am its pupil. I am in its classroom, and I must play by its rules. So more and more I’m learning to love, honor, and take care of my body, this gift I’ve been given. Granted, it’s easy to compare yourself to others and find fault with your body, but then you miss The Mystery. Then you miss the wonder that is you.

26. Therapy and Healing

Is actually a thing. And whereas I could go on and on about different therapies and modalities I’ve tried and succeeded with, really, it all started the day I picked up the phone and called my therapist. One little choice that was really a big choice. “I think I need help,” I said. Thankfully, my therapist was a good fit for me, and her office became a safe place, a sacred place, where I could begin to put myself back together. And whereas I’ve done a lot of work on my own, I think this is a huge part of the process. Having a witness. Not someone that does the work for you, but someone who sees you and believes in you. Maybe more than you do. Someone who is willing to stick with you through it all. Another big part being what my therapist told me that first session. “For this hour we’re going to do two things: sit in truth and not judge ourselves.” So whatever path you choose, I suggest taking these two gems with you. The truth (it will set you free) and non-judgment. I promise, you’ll get further faster if you do.

27. Transformation

Is not only possible, but necessary. Just like a caterpillar can’t stay a caterpillar forever, we as humans can’t stay our old selves forever. Indeed, we’ve been designed to grow, change, transform, evolve. To forget that which is behind and press forward toward the mark. To be burned in the ashes and rise again. To die on the cross and ascend three days (or three years) later. This is written in our stories, and this is written in our cells. So just find a way to accept it. Then get on with the process. Set your foot upon The Path. Entertain the idea that you are more (insert positive adjective here) than you ever thought possible.

28. Travel Writing

Hasn’t been a huge part of my journey or this blog but is still worth mentioning. One lesson from traveling being that, just like that, the universe can take you on a trip, put someone on your path, or put you on someone else’s. Just like that, you can be in a whole new world. With a whole new perspective. JRR Tolkein said, “Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or secret gate.” Believe in this magic. Trust that as one journey ends, another is beginning.

29. Writing

Isn’t for everyone, but is for everyone. At least, words are for everyone. Personally, these words, these hundreds of thousands of words, have changed my life. Once a writer friend pointed out that I was literally writing into existence the life I wanted to live. Sweetheart, hang on for one more day. Things will get better. Lately I’ve been hashtagging all my posts #healing. And whereas I’ve thought of these statements and labels as simply my way of hoping or just description, well, in the beginning was the word. Seriously. Think of the world you create when you say something is “possible” versus the world you create when you say something is “impossible.” Notice how your thoughts, feelings, emotions, attitude, and actions change depending on which world you decide to inhabit. Crazy, I know. And that’s just one little word. Now, have the words I’ve written these last three years MADE my life change? I could never prove that. But my life has changed, and surely it’s at least partly due to the fact that at some point I started telling myself a different story. A story I wanted to hear. One of healing, forgiveness, self-acceptance, hope, transformation, and transcendence. A story in which I was the hero and there was a happy ending.

And surely anyone can do this.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perhaps this is what bravery really is--simply having run out of better options, being so totally frustrated by the outside world that all you can do is go within.

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On Slowing Down, Changing Worlds, and Seasons (Blog #1092)

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In an interview I listened to yesterday, former head hostage negotiator for the FBI Chris Voss said, “You have to go slow to go fast.” Meaning that in high-stakes or even low-stakes negotiations it pays to pump the brakes, really listen to the other party (rather than simply trying to cram your viewpoint down their throat), and communicate clearly. In dancing we say it like this: take time to do the prep, the setup. Don’t get ahead of the beat. Once I told a couple who was working on a routine for their wedding, “You’re already going too fast now, and I can promise you that you’ll go even faster on your wedding day (because of adrenaline) if you’re not careful.” Well, I was at the wedding, and sure enough they were at least eight eight-counts (sixty-four beats) ahead of the music.

Which means they finished before the song did.

Ugh. Pumping the brakes is such a challenging thing. We live in a fast-food society, and we want what we want when we want it (now). The internet and Amazon Prime haven’t helped things, since they’ve made both information and everything under the sun almost immediately available. Consequently, our natural tendency toward impatience has been encouraged. Perhaps this in one of the silver linings to our current situation with respect to COVID-19. We’re being forced to stay in, slow down (even the internet is dragging because so many people are on it), and wait. For a solution. For our jobs. For toilet paper.

As I’ve thought about the phrase “go slow to go fast” today, I’ve related it to this blog and my personal journey, one of my consistent themes being “slow down, be patient.” Not that I’ve WANTED to slow down, but it’s simply been the only way. To learn all the things I have in therapy, to learn all the things I have through this blog. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “The years teach much the days never know.” Amen. This is the way of it. You can’t hurry love, you can’t rush the seasons, and you can’t speed up your own personal transformation. Not that you don’t have any say in how long it will take, since God knows you could drag your feet about it or refuse to do your part, but even when you’re doing everything you know to do, metamorphosis is not going to happen overnight.

Alas, slowing down seems to be the best way to “get there.” This is a message of myofascial release too. It’s not push hard and fast, it’s push gently (sink) and slow. It’s wait for at least five minutes. I know, I know. Who has five minutes? But the good news is that if you do go easy and you do wait, restrictions that have been rock hard for years can melt like butter. This is the “go fast” part. Meaning the best way to get quick, lasting results is to slow the hell down.

It’s counterintuitive, I know. But look at nature. The way a tree grows. The way a baby grows. Life doesn’t get in a hurry. And yet we do. Despite the fact that we ARE life. Three years ago I started this writing project wanting to get somewhere. Recognized or whatever. And boy was I in a mental hurry. But having spent every day since slowly but surely putting down hundreds of thousands of words, thoughts, and ideas and having been changed by the process for the better, I’m convinced “steady as she goes” is the only way. What’s more, now that I’m quickly approaching the end, there’s part of me that wishes I hadn’t been in such a rush in the beginning. That I’d savored The Changing more.

Tonight I started working my way through a free online class about storytelling presented by Khan Academy and the creative team at Pixar. It’s magical. Anyway, one thing the Pixar people talk about is the difference between a character’s wants and needs, two things that are often (and probably should be) at odds with each other. For example, in The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy WANTS to get back home to Kansas. But what Dorothy NEEDS is to get in touch with her brains, heart, and courage. In other words, Dorothy doesn’t need to get back home to Kansas, she NEEDS to get back home to herself.

And who doesn’t really?

Thinking about the wants and needs in my life, I know that a few years ago I WANTED to move to Texas and start my career as a writer. Alas, the gods had other plans, since what I NEEDED was to first unlock the talents, sensitivities, and powers inside of me that back then lay dormant. In terms of storytelling, what I’ve undergone the last several years would be called “a character arc,” meaning that THROUGH CONFLICT and by OVERCOMING OBSTACLES, I’ve transformed into a better version of myself. Unfortunately, both in storytelling and in life, it appears conflict and obstacles are NECESSARY COMPONENTS for getting us not where we WANT to be, but where we NEED to be.

This sucks, I know.

Naturally, we WANT this transformation to happen quickly. More often than not, we NEED it to happen slowly. (Why, Marcus?) Because every time you change something about yourself (a thought, a belief, a boundary, a perception), you quite literally change the world you’re living in. Not that you leave earth and end up on a different planet, but in effect you do. Because every time you change you end up playing by a different set rules, and that means your interactions, strategies, and results change. So you might as well be living on Mars. Or in Oz. All this to say that world-changing is jarring, so you need time to adjust and get the lay of the land. Okay, I’m single now. All right, I’m not putting up with that crap anymore. Shit, I’m quarantined.

More and more my message to myself and others is, Sweetheart, be patient. Yes, there are mysteries inside you that desperately want to come out. But mysteries are never called out in a flash or forced out through screaming. (Hurry up and heal!) Rather, mysteries are coaxed out by being snuggled up to, by being deeply heard. Sweetheart, what do you have to reveal to me? I’m listening. And do please take your time. This is why we have time. Not so that we can get an answer to our problems lickety split, but so that we can be grown by both our trials and our triumphs, the way a tree is grown by life’s ever-changing seasons.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A friend’s laughter takes us backward and carries us forward simultaneously.

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The Giving (Blog #1090)

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Last night after I posted the blog and as I crawled into bed, I was dead tired. My neck, back, and shoulders ached. I am so over this shit, I thought. Ready to pass out. But then I started thinking about myofascial release and about how almost four years ago I saw a rolfing therapist (rolfing is a form of bodywork that also works with fascia) who did a release on my sinuses by sticking his finger up my nose. (No kidding. I tell the entire story in a live video here.) Well, you guessed it. Lying in bed, I stuck my pinky on the inside of my nostril (first one, then the other) and applied gentle pressure until I felt any tension relax. And whereas I know this sounds odd, oh my god, y’all, I could feel the release into my neck and shoulders, into this knot that’s been there, I don’t know, over two years now. Seriously, just like that, it unraveled, like, thirty percent.

The idea behind working with your fascia is that everything in your body is connected. The way a spider web or sweater is. All knitted together. This is why especially by working with your internal fascia (by entering through an orifice, if you must know), you can affect changes throughout your entire body. In terms of my sinuses, I imagine they affected my neck because 1) things got “cinched down” through years of stopping tears, 2) things got “crunched up” due to any number of car accidents, or 3) things constricted when I had my sinus surgery. This last possible explanation is apparently a common occurrence, since surgeries actually cut the fascia, thus causing scarring and bunching. Think of the way your clothes are never the same after they’re mended or sewn back together. There’s always a pull somewhere.

What I’m learning, however, is that, with a little help, the body can repair itself, stretch itself back out or whatever needs to be done. If you’ve never had myofascial release or felt something let go and reverberate throughout your body, think of what happens when kids scrunch up the paper wrapper that goes around a straw. That’s the constriction. Then think of what happens when they drop some water on the scrunched-up paper. Like magic, it unfurls. That’s the release.

Tonight’s blog is #1090 in a row and begins my final week of this three-year-long project. Said another way, one week from tonight I’ll be done. Scratching my head. Probably writing to myself, What do I do now? But not posting it. Regardless, this is my last Tuesday post.

Wow.

Daddy needs a break.

Recently a dear friend asked, “What are you stopping the blog?” Hum. That’s a good question. My answer being, “In short, I’m tired.” Meaning this entire thing really has taken a lot out of me. Granted, it’s given so much more, but there’s still been The Taking. Of my time. Of my creative resources. Of my emotions. God, I’m surprised my keyboard hasn’t shorted out from all the tears. Suffice it to say it’s been exhausting, and Daddy needs a break. More than this, however, it’s simply time. That is, a little over three years ago I “just knew” I needed to start this thing, at some point I “just knew” it needed to last three years, and now I “just know” it’s time to stop. Everyone knows when a good meal, however delightful, is over, and, well, this one is. It’s time for me to go home now.

The thing being, of course, that this blog has brought me home. To myself. That’s the way I see it. That for years, decades, I was wandering about the world not really knowing who I was, what I was about, or what I was capable of. Then my ex acted like a total shit (seriously, he was fabulous at being an ass), and I started therapy (six years ago today, in fact). Not that one ever knows when their journey begins (I think we’re on it from our first breath, if not before), but that’s when mine began. Then this blog came along and really kicked it into high gear. If therapy was like getting a bachelor’s degree in understanding myself and my emotions, this blog has been like getting a master’s. Or even a doctorate.

Well, sooner or later, everyone graduates.

I just said that my journey began when I started therapy, but it would be more accurate to say that my dark night of the soul began when I started therapy. The dark night of the soul (or dark night of the ego, as Robert Ohotto calls it) simply being a technical undoing of the major patterns in one’s life that no longer serve them. Caroline Myss says that when we ask ourselves, “Why was I born, why was I given life?” that’s really not a question. “It’s a prayer,” she says. “To God. Who else do you think is qualified to answer such a thing?” Well, apparently this is a dangerous prayer to pray, since, according to Myss, when you ask it you’re in effect saying, “Show me why my soul chose to come here,” the answer to which, by necessity, involves a stripping away of all the strategies, beliefs, and systems you’ve come up with during the course of your life that are NOT in alignment with your soul’s calling.

Enter the dark night.

The dark night mostly sucks.

As I’ve experienced it over the last many years, the dark night mostly sucks. Which is why for the longest time I’ve said that I don’t recommend this path (even though I do). Because it’s painful. You lose your shit (or at least you lose your attachment to it), you lose your friends (or at least the ones that aren’t a good fit anymore), and you damn near lose your mind (the divine has this effect on a person). Part of the reason being, according to Ohotto, that the dark night is a holding pattern, meaning that you feel and are powerless. This is why I’ve said over and over again that I’ve tried, tried, tried everything under the sun to heal, grow, and be successful but have again and again come up with peanuts. As it turns out, this has been by design, on purpose. Meaning that I needed to spin my wheels in order to let my old ways, my old life, peter out. “The divine can’t let you experience what you want during the dark night,” Ohotto says, “because you’d just go back to doing things the way you did them before.”

And that way clearly wasn’t working.

According to both Myss and Ohotto, our entire world has, thanks to COVID-19, recently and collectively entered the dark night process. Meaning that, from a technical standpoint, a number of things haven’t been working for a while now and need to be deactivated. Of course, this sounds good if you say it fast, but expect (even more) weeping and gnashing of teeth. Expect your old life to be gone in the blink of an eye (sorry, bye bye now), and expect to feel and be powerless. Expect the whole thing to suck.

All dark nights come to an end.

The good news, however, is that all dark nights come to an end. Sometimes after months, sometimes after years, but they do eventually move on. What’s left on the other side? Something better, something more in alignment with your soul, the soul of humanity, and with God. Feeling like I’m on the tail end of my personal dark night, I’m experiencing not only more joy and inner peace, but also more power. Or agency. That is, whereas for years I’ve felt like I was getting nowhere, lately I’ve been feeling like I’m getting somewhere, everywhere. Largely thanks to a number of different therapies and medical techniques I’ve been trying, I’m actually starting to believe, “Wait a damn minute, I can heal. I can be successful. I can really do something with this life I’ve been given.”

With the holding pattern/powerless idea in mind, I’m honestly not sure that the specific therapies and techniques I’ve been using matter. I’ve talked about and love them, of course–upper cervical care, EMDR, myofascial release–but apparently this whole thing has been a divine setup from the beginning. Meaning that when you’re in the dark night, nothing you do will work. Because you’ve got to learn to surrender. And not take credit for everything. Because life can get more done with you when you’re humble. Then, after you’ve gone through hell and have risen from the ashes, things will start working again. So sure, I’m getting a lot of mileage from putting my finger up my nose, but perhaps if I’d stumbled across yoga now instead of five years ago, I’d be in child’s pose instead of child’s nose. So take this to heart if you’re spinning your wheels. Maybe it’s not about you and what you’re doing. Maybe it’s about timing.

Getting back to why I’m ending this blog, I honestly think it’s because long, long ago (in a galaxy far, far away), I signed up to spend three years going through and talking daily about the dark night (but not necessarily what comes after it). In order to help myself heal, sure, but also to help others heal. So that we could all believe a little more, or maybe a lot more, not only that things get better, but also that we get better–together. Because no one is alone here. This is my encouragement to anyone, whether you’re going through a transition/transformation individually, collectively, or both. Hang in there. This process will, by definition, take something from you. (And that will suck.) Everything comes with a price. But you’ll be better, more beautiful, more content, more confident, and more you on the other side. (And this will be more lovely than you can imagine.) This is The Giving.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"You can't change your age, but you can change what your age means to you."

We March Forward (Blog #1089)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Better that you're true to yourself and the whole world be disappointed than to change who you are and the whole world be satisfied.

"

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)

"Miracles happen."

A New Way of Living (Blog #1082)

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Today I taught two dance lessons. I know, touching people. But we all washed out hands first, and Daddy’s gotta make a living. Groceries and toilet paper, after all, don’t pay for themselves. Anyway, after two full days of being “locked up” at home, it was nice, just to get out and see people. This evening I went to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions for me and my parents and ended up having a long conversation (in line) with a friend’s son. How about that? A conversation! Of course, it was about COVID-19, but it was still good to connect.

This, I think, is one of the good things coming from this whole mess. Most of us aren’t shaking hands, but we’re empathizing with and understanding each other in ways we perhaps haven’t in a long time. One of my gay friends ranted that, in effect, this is what it’s like to be afraid of catching a virus you don’t deserve. And whereas I think he came off a little strong (a lot of people are angry right now), I still think he had a point. All too often when other people suffer, we find some reason to blame the victim, I suppose in order to distance ourselves from the idea–the fact–that IT could happen to us. HIV is just for gay people. Sinners. Oh, she wasn’t wearing her seat belt? No wonder she broke her neck.

As if being straight or wearing a seat belt somehow magically excuses you from life’s challenges and tragedies. Or from being compassionate. Please.

I’m not saying you should’t be smart, of course. When you’re in a car, buckle up. When you have sex, as my therapist so delicately says, wear a raincoat. When you do anything for the next several months (or longer), wash your hands. And yet the fact remains that, no matter what you do, this virus in an equal-opportunity invader. It doesn’t care what color your skin is, who you sleep with, or how much money you have. Or what religion you are or aren’t. In this, it reminds us that WE ARE ALL EQUAL. Whether we want to admit it or not.

Intuitive Robert Ohotto says that things like COVID-19 only come around when something down here on planet earth isn’t working. To me this means that from a larger, mystical viewpoint, life is always trying to “correct” itself, to bring balance where balance is needed. Now, I know that from the ground level things look like a shit-show. And I know that the pain and suffering and death are awful. But I also know that anything that causes us to slow down, question our values, reconnect with each other, and be kinder to one another is, well, not 100 percent bad. Who among us hasn’t had something “terrible” happen only to look back later and say, “I grew a lot from that, it really taught me something”? I mean, the day Jesus was crucified was a BAD DAY for Jesus and a lot of his homeboys and homegirls. And yet the whole thing has worked out nicely in terms of human history. My point being that it’s difficult to judge bad and good when you don’t have all the facts. When you don’t have a cosmic perspective.

Something I’ve heard a lot of talk about since COVID-19 really amped up is that although this could go on for months, life (and the stock market) should, eventually, return to normal. With all due respect, I should hope not. (Why, Marcus?) Because if something of this magnitude comes into our lives, I would hope that we and our lives are not the same afterwards. Because let’s face it–we’ve had a lot of room for improvement for a damn while now. And as uncomfortable as a trial like this can be, the point–one of them–is that it SHOULD change us, transform us.

Into something better.

This is how I’ve come to think and feel about the tribulations in my life. All the shit things that have come out of nowhere and knocked me to the ground. Have they sucked? You bet. Would I want them to happen again or wish them upon my worst enemy? Hell no. But at the same time I wouldn’t be without them. Because, in a very loud voice, the hardest times in my life have taken me by the hand and said, “Sweetheart, we can’t live like this any longer. It’s time to grow. It’s time to become something more.” This is how this current journey started for me. For months I was depressed, and I finally realized it was my soul telling me it couldn’t stand, well, my life as it was. Owning the studio, doing the same old thing. So I closed the studio, sold almost everything, and here I am now. Living with my parents. Writing. Happier. Because I’m doing something that satisfies my soul. Now when everything falls apart, I think, This has God’s name written all over it (because who else could turn your life upside down so thoroughly?), and, Things will come together soon enough.

Along these lines, I’ve often wondered and even asked God why things have to fall apart in the first place. WHY must we be forced or strongly encouraged to find a new way of living? And whereas I don’t think God has to explain himself/herself/itself to anyone (and therefore doesn’t), what makes sense to me is this answer–

Because the old way wasn’t working.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing is like the internet at my parents’ house—it takes time.

"

Knowing (Blog #1074)

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Currently it’s 10:39 at night, and I’m uncomfortable in my body. For the last few days I’ve been fighting either a sinus infection or just a good old fashioned cold, and it’s left me feeling ever so slightly achy. Like I’ve been run over by a car. Not a big car, mind you. More like a Power Wheels. You know, the kind toddlers drive. But still, definitely a big Power Wheels. Like a truck, not a sedan. A Power Wheels truck driven by a very large toddler who’s actually the size and weight of a teenager. In other words, my back hurts. Probably from lying in bed too much. Plus, my right eye’s been twitching, and my right elbow’s been itching. “And you’ve been bitching,” my dad added when I told him all this earlier.

Everyone’s a comedian.

All this being said, and thankfully, I’m feeling better than I was yesterday. I’ve had more energy today, less congestion. I haven’t sneezed as much. This evening, for the first time in almost a week, I took a shower. That helped. Granted, fifteen minutes later I blew snot into the inside of my clean tank top, but whatever. My hair is clean.

That’s really something.

Yesterday I mentioned a book I started reading a couple days ago, What’s in Your Web? Stories of Fascial Freedom by Phil Tavolacci. This evening I read more of it, and a quote that stood out was, “What if it were easy?” Like, we make healing out to be this huge thing, almost impossible, but what if it weren’t? Personally I know that I’ve tried for years to get certain parts of my body to relax with little success until recently. Now, thanks to myofascial release, seemingly solid structures within me have begun to melt like butter. Not that my successes have been overnight or “one and done”–healing is always a process–but my strides have been much simpler than I previously imagined.

Likewise, I’ve made a lot of progress through upper cervical care and EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). And whereas there is work involved–I have to drive to my respective doctors and pay them–the actual methods and techniques used are simple. Emotional at times, sure, especially with EMDR, but anything but complicated. What’s more, they’re working faster than years of traditional chiropractic or talk therapy.

What if it were easy?

Last night I had a series of dreams in which I was working closely or intimately involved with a couple recurring characters I normally avoid (in my dreams). To me this means that I’m changing on a conscious and subconscious level and that I’m accepting and integrating previous “cast off” parts of myself. In other words, both my historic and recent efforts are paying off. This is one benefit to keeping a dream journal, even if you only occasionally write down “the biggies” or note certain themes–you can see how you’re evolving over time.

Alas, had I not been paying attention to the fact that I used to run from certain people in my dreams, I may not have realized the significance of the fact that I’m now embracing them. Likewise, I’m glad I have this blog, which, among other things, is a written record of the majority of my inner and outer struggles. Because so often when I’m in the throws of something difficult it’s easy to imagine that I haven’t made any progress at all. And yet looking back I can see that I have. This is everything, knowing that you’re growing as a person. Knowing that you’re not only capable of healing, but that you are healing. Even if, in the moment, you can’t stop sneezing.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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In other words, there's always SOMETHING else to improve or work on. Therefore, striving for perfection is not only frustrating, it's also technically impossible.

"

Willing (Blog #1070)

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This morning I worked backstage for the national tour of Trolls Live! This isn’t as sexy as it may sound. My first official duty when I got to work? Sweep and mop the stage. Which, by the way, was covered in glitter, which one of the characters (Guy Diamond) farts out his butt. (Sheesh. Fart glitter. Toddler humor.) Anyway, just as I was really getting into the mopping part, a screw came out of my mop handle, and the head fell off. (I hate it when my head falls off.) So I picked up the screw, threw it away, took the mop out to my car, and repaired everything with a spare bolt and nut I found in my toolbox.

Well.

By the time I got back to the stage to finish mopping, a curtain (the main) had been lowered onto the stage. No problem, I thought, I’ll just mop behind it. But first I decided to look in front of the curtain, which is where the mop broke, just incase there was another screw or piece that had fallen out. Someone could step on it, I thought. Alas, one of the crew was behind the curtain, and when they noticed that someone in front of the curtain (me) was ruffling it, they sort-of started freaking out and (albeit gently) reprimanding that person (me again). “Don’t touch the curtain,” they said. “The doors are open. People are coming in.”

Of course, they didn’t know WHY I was touching the curtain. How could they? They didn’t ask for an explanation, and, being on the other side of the curtain and not realizing until “too late” that they were even talking to me, I didn’t offer one. This is an example of the idea that we all live in different worlds. I was living in the “I need to move the curtain to keep someone from getting hurt” world, and they were living in the “that curtain’s delicate and expensive, and the show’s about to start” world. And whereas there was a time I would have thought that their world was right and my world was wrong or vice versa, more and more I don’t see anyone else’s world as better or worse, morally superior or inferior, than mine.

Just different.

This being said, a part of me was still upset by the interaction. My Inner People Pleaser has been “online” for so long that it’s never fun (like, how exciting!) for me to be corrected. Plus, apparently my personality has been intentionally designed to be largely independent and function via an inner mantra that sounds like, “Don’t tell me what to do.” I accept this about myself. Not just because it resonates as true for me, but also because I’m tired of trying to change it. Not that I can’t improve or that I’m always right, but I am who I am. Accordingly, who and what I am IS right–for me.

Getting back to accepting myself in the above situation, years ago I would have fretted for hours, if not days, about what happened, thinking both that I had done something wrong and that–oh no!–someone didn’t like me. After almost six years of therapy, almost three years of daily writing and introspection, and just over a month of EMDR treatments, I’m happy to report that I got over it pretty quickly. My point being that you don’t have to be a slave to your emotional reactions forever. Your inner demons can be tamed and quieted. This being said, I truly believe that our emotional reactions only downshift once they’ve been given permission to speak and once we hear them.

Once we hear ourselves.

In Trolls Live! it’s said that one of the characters won (I think) the fuzziest hair contest in 2016, 2017, and 2019. “What happened in 2018?” one of the other characters says. The answer?

“We don’t talk about 2018.”

Alas, this is how most of us handle the distressing emotions and situations in our lives. We shove them down. Ignore them. Bury them. Cover them up. We don’t talk about IT, whatever IT is. And whereas I understand and am completely and utterly familiar with these strategies, they simply haven’t worked as a permanent and healing solution for me. What has worked? Talking about, feeling, and accepting every scary and uncomfortable whatever. Listening to and learning from my body, feelings, and emotions, however unpleasant or gross that process may be. Looking at IT. Mr. Rogers encouraged, “Feelings are mentionable AND manageable.” When you’re stuck in embarrassment or shame (I did something wrong), it can feel like you’re going to fall apart, to implode. But I can absolutely promise you that regardless of what you’ve buried inside you, you’ve been given an inherent wisdom that knows how to handle its resurrection and transformation.

Several minutes after the “you’re on the wrong side of the curtain” incident, I got excited about the fact that I was having a very ancient emotional reaction. Why? Because it let me know there was a part of me that needed to be heard, that I imagine has been wanting to express itself for quite a long time. That’s been wanting to take the stage and be my teacher. Along these lines, ore and more I’m grateful when someone pushes my buttons. Because they show me where my buttons are located. They show me the parts of myself I’ve been ignoring. (Thankfully, after all this time and trial-and-error–I now know what to do with this invaluable information.) Likewise, I’m even beginning to find gratitude for the pains in my body. Because they too are crying out for attention. And they make me curious. Like, Sweetheart, what’s going on here? What story do you have to tell me? What have I not been willing to hear until now?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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I believe that God is moving small universes to communicate with me and with all of us, answering prayers and sending signs in unplanned moments, the touch of a friend's hand, and the very air we breathe.

"

Equipped (Blog #1068)

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Currently it’s 8:15 PM. Tomorrow I have to get up super-duper early, so I’m hoping to keep this short. Not that I’m convinced I’ll be able to fall asleep by 10 PM, but I’m sure going to try.

By taking Benadryl.

Today I’ve been thinking about money. (I’ll explain.) Yesterday I mentioned that I devoted one of my recent EMDR sessions to money because the topic, and the actual thing, have historically made me squirm. Well, this afternoon I took some change to the bank to convert to cash, and damn if the automated machine in the lobby didn’t stop counting somewhere in the middle of all my change. The whole time still taking my money. “It says your total is $76.23,” the lady behind the counter said when I called her over.

“It really should be closer to $125,” I said, explaining the situation.

Well, the next thing I knew the branch manager got involved and said they’d have to audit the machine. Which they did over the course of–I don’t know–the next hour. “I need to go buy a mower for my parents,” I said. “I’ll be back.”

Then I added, “Before I go, can you break a twenty?”

Of course, they could.

The thing being that I needed two tens, well, one ten to pay for the mower, an item I found on Facebook earlier today as a replacement for my parents’ mower that seriously crapped out last summer. “Will you take five dollars less?” I asked the seller.

“Sure,” he said. And he even helped me load it.

When I got back to the bank, they still weren’t done with the audit. So I waited. Finally, they came up with the total: $123.50.

Before EMDR, both the situation at the bank and the thought of price dickering with the lawn mower seller would have made me twitchy nervous. But in both instances today, I was like, whatever, nobigdeal. At the bank I thought, This is inconvenient, but shit happens and they’re working on it. However it turns out, I’m going to be okay. When trying to bargain over the lawnmower, I just acted on instinct. “Offer five dollars less,” something inside me said. So I did, reasoning, If he says no, I’m willing to walk away. My therapist says this is absolutely necessary when buying and selling, a sense of non-urgency, an air of neutrality. Like, I don’t HAVE to have it. Then you can remain clearheaded and weigh your options.

For so long I was plagued by a feeling of loss and scarcity. Just weeks ago the thought of losing fifty dollars to a bank’s change machine or five dollars in a business deal would have sent the “there’s not enoughs” all over me. More and more I believe, really believe, that, as a former boss used to say, there’s more where that came from. That God and the universe may taketh away at times, but they also giveth in great supply. Over and over and over again. For example, even when I’ve been short on cash, I’ve never missed a meal for any reason other than my choice. Not once in thirty-nine years. And I know millions of people have.

Talk about counting your blessings.

One of my big revelations lately is that I have everything I need. By this I don’t mean that I have all the money in the world or that every physical ache or pain I have is under control. Rather, I mean that I have everything I need inside of me. To think on my feet. To figure things out. To provide for myself. To make it through this world with what I’ve been given. In terms of smarts, instincts, and inner and outer resources. This knowing is huge, that you’ve shown up on this planet with all you require. That you’ve come equipped with the wisdom to live and to survive, that you don’t have to find it in a book somewhere. Not that I’m against books. I’m all for learning. But a book can’t make you comfortable in your own skin or give you peace in your heart. A book can’t give you confidence. Only your Self do that.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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When we expect great things, we see great things.

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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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