On Ways to Change Old Patterns (Blog #877)

This morning I went to bed at three and woke back up at six in order to help my dad celebrate his birthday (it’s today). One of his favorite things in the world is chocolate-filled donuts from Irish Maid Donuts in Fort Smith, and the last time we went–on Father’s Day at ten o’clock–they were nearly out. So this time we decided to go earlier. Not only that, Dad called them this morning to make sure they were still open (because several streets in Fort Smith flooded during the night), and when we arrived, they not only had our donuts ready, but they’d also written “Happy Birthday” on top of our box.

Talk about service.

Dad and I ate at the store, and the lady working the counter said they’ve been using the same donut/chocolate filling recipe since the 1950s. Y’all, it’s delicious. Totally worth getting up for. That being said, I went straight back to bed when Dad and I were finished and slept til almost twelve.

This afternoon I watched several videos online, mostly “smartypants” stuff, as my therapist calls it. You know, self-help, personal growth material. And whereas I enjoyed most of it, there was one video by one lady that absolutely got on my nerves. I kept thinking, This is dumb. I’ve got better things to do. Still, my inner completionist kept thinking I should stick with it. My inner good student thought, What if there’s important information that we NEED? Finally I thought of something my therapist says occasionally–follow the energy. That is, if something doesn’t excite you, it’s probably not for you. So I switched off the video while the lady was mid-sentence and moved on with my life.

It felt great.

Lately I’ve been talking a lot about changing patterns, and one of the videos I did completely watch today said that you can engage new patterns in a couple of ways. First, and I know this seems obvious, but you can “just do it.” What I mean is that I have an old pattern of completing things I start even if I don’t enjoy them, but a desire for a new pattern of being willing to walk away from that which doesn’t serve me (don’t throw good money after bad). So the simplest way for me to get comfortable walking away is to actually practice walking away–from a book, from a video, from a person. People always tell me they have two left feet. Duh. Of course they do–and they always will unless they’re willing to at least TRY to dance.

Which brings me to the second way you can change patterns. Get a role model, a teacher, or a therapist. The donut shop has been using the same recipes for over fifty years not because one baker has come in and done their own thing, but rather because one baker has learned from another who has already done it. This is why you take dance lessons from someone who already knows how to dance. This is why I see a therapist–because she already knows how to have boundaries, how to advocate for herself, how to speak her truth, and so on, and these are things I’ve wanted to learn. In order to do so, I’ve needed–and I think we all need–an example, a guide, someone who says, “Look here. See what’s possible. See how you can grow. See what you can become.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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On Updating Your Software (Blog #876)

Phew. It’s been a day. This afternoon I ran some errands, fixed a friend’s dishwasher, downloaded some material for an online course I’m taking, and wrote a blog for someone else (for money!). Then this evening I had dinner with my parents and later installed a chandelier for a friend. This last task took forever. Installing chandeliers almost always does. No two jobs are ever the same. Honestly, I think tonight’s job would have gone easier if I knew in the beginning what I knew in the end–that the wire needed to be so long, the chain needed to be so long, and so on. But these are things I could only find out by experimenting. That’s the deal. My inner slave driver gives me shit for not knowing things there’s no way I could know.

Stop that, inner slave driver.

Now it’s two in the morning, and I’m trying to give myself a break by blogging short. I have to be up in several hours to help my dad kick off his birthday (happy birthday, Dad) by going to the donut shop (his favorite place and one I don’t hate). So I’ll get right to the point.

Since I’m not done with the painting job I’ve been working on lately, I could have painted today. But I needed a rest. My body’s been hurting, and my sinuses have been irritated from all the fumes. Plus, I needed time to run around, to do other jobs. This afternoon I actually thought I’d blog early so I could rest more tonight. But then I installed a software update for my laptop, and the entire process took thirty minutes, which didn’t leave me enough time to write. So here I am now. Anyway, it occurred to me during my laptop’s software update that we all need a software update now and then. That is, most of us are running mental and emotional programs we picked up as children. Tonight the friend I hung the chandelier for said he was so insistent on everything being just so (you should see the two of us together) because his parents used to vacuum themselves out of their house so there wouldn’t be any footprints in the carpet.

Think about that!

My point is that here my friend is, decades later, running his life on an old program. This isn’t a judgment; it’s an observation. Plus, I’m the same way. I really gave myself a tough time for not having things all figured out with the chandelier from step one, and this is typical for me–to insist on perfection. This is an impossible standard, of course, and the fact is I could just as easily be patting myself on the back for trying and learning new things. Because no one ever taught me how to hang a chandelier. I just got curious about it one day, and if it were anyone else doing that, I’d think it was pretty cool.

Way to go, me.

Back to the software analogy, I do think that since starting therapy I’ve been updating my mental and emotional patterns. I’m not nearly as tough on myself (or others) as I used to be, and when I am I let things go more quickly. When I mess up, when I’m not perfect, I don’t imagine that the consequences will be the-sky-is-falling awful. As I recently heard–shit happens, and I’m still enough. This is the biggest software update I think we all need, a shift to the idea that no matter what happens–no matter what–we’re enough, we’re enough, we’re enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Abundance is a lot like gravity--it's everywhere.

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Reverse, NEUTRAL, Drive (Blog #859)

Two nights ago I threw up everything I’d eaten for the previous week. It was nasty. Thankfully, I haven’t thrown up since. I have, however, been dragging ass. Yesterday I spent all day in bed. Today, by the grace of God, I only spent half the day in bed. My energy is noticeably better–I took a shower today!–but it’s still not fabulous. This evening I taught a dance lesson and thought, I think I’m perking up, then I came home and promptly merged my ass with the couch. Ugh. You just can’t heal any faster than you do.

Ain’t that the truth, Ruth?

Normally when I’m sick I’m pretty impatient. I want to heal NOW. And whereas, of course, I’d like to feel better on the lickety-split, I’ve noticed this time around that I’ve been able to let things unfold at their own pace. I keep thinking of how for two hours Sunday night I felt nauseated and then how–all of a sudden–I was on the bathroom floor vomiting. It was so fast, so violent. My point is that my body was clearly ON IT, working swiftly to remove whatever was bothering us. Y’all, I’ve given my body a lot of crap over the years, and yet right there on the cold tile I had all this proof that my body was on my side. Clearly my immune system is like one of those muscle-y bouncers at da club. It’s ready to throw any offending party out on its rear.

Like, get the hell out. And stay out.

Now, do I wish that I’d thrown up Sunday night and felt better immediately? Of course. But in truth, I have felt better–progressively better. And when you consider that my body was just poisoned or otherwise invaded–and that in throwing out the bad guys my stomach also had to throw out some good guys–it makes sense that it would take a few days for things to regain their balance. Even if it takes a week, what’s the big deal? Few things in life can’t wait a week.

This perspective, that my body is actually on my side and constantly working to help me, helps make the healing process more bearable. Recently I heard that when things aren’t going well in your life, it may be because you’re in a time of transition. When I’m teaching dance I often compare a series of three steps to “reverse, neutral, and drive,” meaning the first step goes back, the second step stays in place, and the third step goes forward. My point in teaching it this way is to emphasize that each step is important–even the neutral one that doesn’t “go” anywhere. Anyway, lately I’ve been thinking about how important the neutral phases in our lives are.

I’ll explain.

A while back I had a confrontation that wasn’t fun for me. And although it wasn’t fun, it felt good to not bite my tongue. It felt good to be honest and let the chips fall where they may, where they needed to. When I discussed this confrontation with my therapist she said, “I imagine there will come a day when you’ll be negotiating a business deal, and this skill of speaking your truth and standing your ground will come in handy. So just think of this as practice.”

I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this advice, the idea that although my current circumstances aren’t glamorous, they may be preparing me for something better down the line. Lately I’ve been reminded of the adage, “If you want the things in your life to change, you have to be willing to change the things in you life.” To me this means that if you want your life to be different, YOU have to be willing to be different. Of course, like healing, personal change doesn’t happen overnight. It’s something that comes in stages. The future you is something you grow into a little bit here, a little bit there.

Recently I blogged about changing patterns, and this is basically what I’m talking about tonight. Applied to my example about confronting someone, you could say that I USED to have a pattern of letting myself be walked on like a door mat (reverse), but that for the last few years I’ve been 1) letting that pattern die out and 2) letting a new pattern develop–speaking up for my damn self (neutral)–so that I’ll be better able to navigate the rest of my life (forward). Y’all, my therapist is probably the most outspoken and confrontational person I know, but she says she used to be quiet as a church mouse. Well, shit, she didn’t just wake up loud and boisterous one day. She had to work at it. She too had to go through a neutral phase.

More and more, I’m appreciating the neutral phase, the transitional phase, the healing phase. I think when you realize there’s a point to it, it’s easier to sit with, patiently. When you remodel and redecorate a room, you have to let the paint dry before you hang the curtains. Otherwise you’ll have a damn mess. Likewise, when you want an entirely different life, you have to let your old one (your old patterns) dry up first. I mean, what would happen if you were a people pleaser and all of a sudden inherited a bunch of money? That’s right–goodbye money. Why? Because your pocketbook changed but YOU didn’t. So if it feels like you’re stuck and not going anywhere–good. Chances are you’re being given a chance to change, to learn something new, to heal. Take heart. Be patient. Your time is coming.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t change what happened, but you can change the story you tell yourself about it.

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On Changing Your Patterns (Blog #848)

This morning, before I’d even gone to the restroom, I returned a missed call from the garage where I get my oil changed. Yesterday I dropped off my car, Tom Collins, at the garage and found out I needed a new set of tires. That’s always fun. But my tires weren’t the reason they called today. Instead I was told that dear Tom ALSO needs new struts. Fortunately, I already knew this. Well, sort of. My regular mechanic told me a few weeks ago that one of my struts was leaking and that he could fix it for x amount of dollars. But since I didn’t have x amount of dollars (that I wanted to spend) on car repairs at that red hot moment, I told him to wait.

But back to the phone call this morning. THAT mechanic told me that one of my struts was leaking and that–really–I should just replace the whole front suspension. “I can do that for you,” he said, “for x amount plus 200 dollars. And don’t worry, I’ve replaced 50 of those things before and have never had one come back on me.”

“Well, the truth is that I’ve already gotten a quote for that,” I said, “and they were 200 dollars cheaper.”

“Was that quote for one strut or for both?”

Hum.

“You know, I don’t know. I’d have to ask him.”

Now, in my mind, there wasn’t anything else to say. HOWEVER, the guy on the other end of the phone kept talking, pushing. “Is your guy going to replace just the hydraulic shaft or also the spring? Because I’ll replace everything–on both sides,” he said.

“As I just said, I don’t know.”

“Well, you should ask your mechanic,” he said, then started talking about labor. “And I know we’re more expensive on hourly, but I can get this done in two hours, and that’s not much.”

At this point I’d had enough. I hate being told what to do. I hate pushy, needy, I’m-great-just-ask-me kind of people. I still had to pee. So I did something I rarely do–I interrupted the asshole.

“I appreciate the information,” I said, “but I’m done with this conversation.”

“Okay,” he said, then hung up.

Then I hung up.

Fifteen minutes later the secretary at the garage called.

“Your car is ready.”

A word that’s been coming up for me lately is PATTERNS. No kidding, it’s shown up in multiple books I’ve been reading, on podcasts I’ve listened to, and has even been mentioned by friends. Usually this in-my-face approach is a sign the universe wants me to learn something. At least that’s how I take it. Anyway, the idea is that if you want something to change in your life, it’s not just a matter of changing that one thing. Rather, it’s about changing, or at least being willing to change, a whole host of things. Because everything in life is connected. Said another way, if you want different results, you have to be willing to alter (read: sacrifice) your current patterns and allow new ones to take their place.

How do I explain this? If you brush your teeth every day, that’s a habit. If you always use the same type of toothbrush, that you buy at the same store and keep in the same place on your counter, and you always floss before and rinse and spit afterwards, that’s a pattern. If you brush, then wash your face, then take your nighttime meds, then put on your pajamas, that’s a pattern. Also, it’s a ritual. And if you don’t think even a “little” ritual like this is a big deal, try changing yours by doing everything you normally do in reverse. Or let your friend or lover teach you a new way of brushing your teeth, folding your clothes, or loading the dishwasher, then never go back to your way again. See if you don’t put up a fuss.

Maybe a big one.

The idea here is that we create rituals in order to manage some part of our psyche (and this is why we don’t easily change them). Caroline Myss says you could go through daily rituals and directly correlate each one to one of your seven chakras. You lock your doors for your survival (chakra one), you wear cute underwear for your sexuality (chakra two), you check the mirror for broccoli in your teeth for your self-esteem (chakra three) and so.

Many rituals, of course, involve other people. Our patterns definitely do. For example, recently I was in a pattern of going to see my chiropractor every two weeks. However, when my insurance benefits (for chiropractic and physical therapy) ran out because I’d use so many visits for physical therapy after my knee surgery, I went to a different (more affordable) chiropractor. On the surface this seems like a small choice, but there’s no such thing. That is, my decision to change chiropractors not only affects where I drive every week or two, but also affects the amount of money each chiropractor (and even their staff) makes. It affects the quality of care I get (because each chiropractor approaches the body differently). Because my second chiropractor wants to take dance lessons, my small decision ultimately influences how he and his wife will spend time together, where they may go out on Friday nights, whom they may meet there.

I’m going on about all this to drive home a couple points. First, little things can be big things. If you grabbed a corner of your shirt and twisted it, then kept twisting, eventually you’d see an effect up to your shoulder. This is because your shirt itself is a pattern, a woven tapestry, and you can’t change one part without changing the rest. This is how your life and relationships work. In terms of my interaction with the garage mechanic this morning, it may seem like a little thing for me to have interrupted him and voiced my frustration, but for me it was big huge because I’ve never done anything quite like that before. My pattern historically has been to not interrupt, to be nice, to go along to get along, to let it go. But by changing my reaction in one interaction, that means it will be easier to change it in others. Plus, I’ll carry around less internal frustration–because when you’re honest and direct rather than insincerely polite, you undo emotional knots rather than create them.

In other words, I laid the groundwork for a new pattern today.

Tonight I heard Robert Moss, who’s an expert on dreams and dreaming, say that sometimes our dreams alert us to new ways of being, new possibilities. Like, the last few years I’ve had a bunch of dreams about being aggressive, even yelling. So, according to Moss, that’s a part of my psyche that wants to emerge–a more forceful Marcus. Recently I blogged about the benefit of doing things symbolically. An example is that this afternoon I mowed my parents lawn and instead of doing it the way I always do, I mixed it up. Instead of mowing this section then that section, I did that section then this section. Instead of using diagonals lines, I used horizontal and vertical lines. Nothing “huge,” but it served the same purpose as my cutting off the pushy mechanic did. Both were my way of communicating to my unconscious–I am willing to change my patterns. I am willing to do things differently. I am willing to get different results.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We’re all made of the same stuff.

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