We’re All in This Together (Blog #1011)

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It’s ten in the evening, and, despite the fact that I sat down to blog half an hour ago, I keep getting distracted by Etsy and other fun things on the internet. Since I’m fasting today, I’m having a difficult time concentrating. My body’s woozy–famished–and I simply don’t have the mental fortitude required for putting words and phrases together. Consequently, I’m ready to get this done, go to bed, and eat something, anything, tomorrow. Unless, of course, I cave and eat something tonight. But I would like to make it over twenty-four hours. Thanks to the holidays and my sweet tooth I haven’t given my body much of a break lately, so I’d like to give it a resting from digesting.

I just made up that rhyme.

Something that’s been on my mind lately is the fact that each of us is deeply unique and yet–at the same time–very much like everyone else. Recently my blogging platform notified me that I wrote 303,193 words in 2019 (an average of 831 words per post), and it occurred to me that anyone, were they of a mind to do so, could write just as many words (or more) about THEIR life, their challenges and triumphs, their joys and sorrows. Last night I went out to a local theater’s annual party with my friends Aaron and Kate, and there was a lip-sync battle. Anyway, I kept thinking about this fact as I observed each individual performer. Like, just as I worry about or am over the moon about something, so every other person on planet earth is worried or over the moon about something.

Just as I think my story is important (exciting, frustrating, boring, not good enough), so does everyone else.

Thinking about this has done a couple things for me. First, it’s given me more compassion for my friends, family, and even total strangers. For whatever they might be going through. Most of us, myself included, are so focused on what concerns us as individuals–how we feel, what we eat or don’t eat, what we wear–that we forget the fact that others are concerned about these same things. This should connect rather than separate us. Second, this viewpoint has helped me take life less personally. For example, my struggle with sinus infections FEELS personal because it’s my head that’s full of mucus, but knowing that thousands upon thousands of other people also struggle with sinus infections (or something equally rotten) reminds me that the universe doesn’t have a bullseye on the back of MY head.

It has a bullseye on the back of all of our heads.

But seriously, I don’t believe the universe is out to get us. Rather, I believe it’s out to grow us, to expand our hearts, to connect us. I also believe the individual challenges WE ALL FACE help us grow, expand, and connect. Granted, it’s tempting to think, I’m the only one, and use your pain and sorrow as a means to isolate and separate. But more and more, I don’t recommend this. I don’t recommend going it alone. Rather, I suggest reaching out for help when you need it and giving help in return when asked. I suggest thinking, I’m not terminally unique. We’re all in this together.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The deepest waters are the only ones capable of carrying you home.

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Let Me Have My World, I’ll Let You Have Yours (Blog #990)

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A few things–

1. On creating

Lately I’ve been working on a few creative projects, and today I finished one of them–a vintage Hollywood wallpaper magnet board. I made the board itself over a decade ago, but it’s been screwed to the back of a desk that’s been pushed up against a wall in my parents’ front room for I don’t know how long. Anyway, last week I took the board off the desk, two days ago I spray painted the wood for a frame, and today I attached the frame to the front of the board and fastened two hanging hooks to the back. And whereas I could tell you every little thing that went wrong with and what’s NOT perfect about the whole project, believe it or not, I won’t. Rather, I’m happy to say that for less than twenty dollars in supplies I have something that’s not only so much better than the industrial metal shelf I was using before, but is–I think–pretty cool.

As my therapist says, cheap thrills.

2. On perspective

Along the lines of cheap thrills, this evening I went shopping for a few craft items. One of the places I stopped was Target, and just after I looked at their furniture and was about to look at their picture frames, I noticed their wall clocks. Eyeing one in particular I thought, That is so beautiful. Well, not five minutes later I overheard a man ask his wife if she’d found a clock yet, and she said, “Hell no. All their clocks are ugly. I guess we’re gonna have to go back to Hobby Lobby.”

Now, I have no idea what KIND of clock this lady was looking for, where she was going to put it, or what her particular taste or style is. Nor, let’s be clear, do I care. I just think it’s interesting that what one person considers gorgeous another can find offensive. What’s the saying? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I also think it’s interesting that we all KNOW that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that everyone sees the world differently (according to their background, tastes, and predilections), and yet we spend so much time judging other people for not seeing the world like we do. Trying to convince them they should be more like us (because we’re so pleasant and fun to be around). I love peanut butter and eat it out of the jar, but recently someone said, “OH GROSS, THAT’S DISGUSTING!” UUUUHHHHH. Obviously in your world it is. In my world, it’s heaven.

My point: let me have my world, I’ll let you have yours.

Your world without Target clocks. Your world without peanut butter.

Your world without joy.

3. On interacting

This evening a total stranger commented on one of my ten-year-old YouTube videos. “Never, never, never count rumba 1,2,3 / 4,5,6!!!” he said. (The idea being that rumba, although it has six steps in a basic, is actually an eight-count dance and should be counted 1,2,3,4 / 5,6,7,8, where either the 2 and 4 or 4 and 8 are held beats.) These were his first, maybe his last words to me. Not a greeting or conversation starter–hi, hello, excuse me but I beg to differ–but rather a command with three exclamation points. As if he were my authority or dance boss. As if I weren’t another adult worthy of his respect.

Now, this online nonsense happens fairly often in my world. And whereas sometimes I let it go and sometimes I don’t and am rude in return (I’ll count rumba any damn way I want to), tonight I simply replied, “You’re obviously quite passionate about this, Stan. Please tell me more. In my experience teaching, I’ve found that some students prefer counting beats of music and some prefer counting steps or footfalls, which is why I count rumba two different ways in this video.”

Will he reply? Doubtful. Regardless of what he does, my point is that it’s important what I do. It’s important what you do. It’s vital that we ask ourselves, “How am I going to treat my fellow humans? Especially when I disagree with them, am I going to be rude and condescending (as if in this whole wide universe I know everything there is to know and therefore have the right to rub my superior opinions in your face), or am I going to be kind, compassionate, and humble?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s okay to ask for help.

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You Have to Keep Going (Blog #907)

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After being on an intermittent fasting/mostly paleo diet for one full week and feeling pretty good about myself, this morning I woke up with sinus junk. Talk about a kick in the balls. My sinuses continue to challenge me. That being said, don’t cry for me Argentina. We all need our challenges, those things that keep us humble and give us compassion for ourselves and others. My sinuses are mine. Plus, they’re A LOT better than they used to be, and I’ve found something (a probiotic) that helps fight off infections. So I started playing around with that today. It’s not an exact science. Fingers crossed.

Now, back to my first full week of dieting. I lost 2.6 pounds.

Insert the “Hallelujah” chorus here.

Y’all, losing weight, or trying to lose weight, can really screw with your mind. Like, when I’m not trying to lose weight, I just eat whatever I want and think, Oh, I’ll get rid of this fat later. (You know, on some Tuesday I have free.) But as soon as I start losing weight, I’m either immediately frustrated (Why isn’t this working?!) or, if it is working, terrified that it won’t keep working (What if I gain it back?!). This means that I’ve spent today basically being neurotic. On the one hand I’ve been elated. I’m FINALLY using all those tortilla chips I ate this summer. On the other hand I’ve been worried I don’t have whatever it takes (the discipline, the knowledge, the money) to get well and stay well.

Along these lines, the part of me that loves chocolate-filled donuts wants to go ahead and quit right now. Like, 2.6 pounds–that’s enough.

All this being said, I’m going to stick with everything. This evening I went to the grocery store to buy more food and spilled an entire carton of blueberries all over checkout aisle two. I guess this situation has happened before, since the cashier had a broom on standby and said the blueberry cartons were poorly made. My point is that just because you wake up sick one day or spill some blueberries doesn’t mean you give up on being healthy, give up on buying groceries. Life is full of setbacks. Absolutely full of them. What do you do?

You clean up the blueberries and move on.

I’ve noticed my body kicks up a fuss whenever I dramatically change something in my life like my diet. Mostly, I get cranky. Someone says my name, and I want to chop their head off. I haven’t eaten a biscuit in over a week! is what I’m screaming on the inside. On the outside however, I’ve learned to remain (mostly) calm. That is, I’ve learned how to control myself, how to act socially appropriate even if I don’t feel like it. Recently I heard that these feelings of frustration and upset are simply part of the price we pay for our previous (poor) choices (to, you know, eat biscuits). Like, whenever I’ve quit cigarettes, I’ve gone into nicotine withdrawals, which are hell–and simply the cost for having smoked.

Make good choices even if you don’t feel like it.

Having quit bad habits and changed my diet (and even having gone through a sinus infection) before, I know that no feeling is final. That is, if you’re willing to let your body put up a fuss, if you’re willing to go through biscuit or nicotine withdrawals, things will eventually balance out. Give it a week or two. Make good choices even if you don’t feel like it. You’ll be glad you did. In the meantime, you just have to remind yourself to hang in there, to not give up simply because you’re not experiencing immediate gratification. You have to keep going and not overanalyze everything. This afternoon I taught a dance lesson to a former student, who, despite their thinking they’d forgotten everything, did just fine. “Just keep your feet moving and try not to think,” I said. “Thinking gets you into trouble.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rejecting yourself is what really hurts.

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Another Pair of Eyes (Blog #689)

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Each night for the last week I’ve been watching the Netflix series Russian Doll. It’s fascinating (and I haven’t finished yet, so don’t tell me how it ends). Anyway, there was a great line in last night’s episode (season one, episode six). Then this morning while scrolling through my Facebook memories, I unearthed three lovely quotes that I shared long before this blog started. Therefore, I’ve decided today’s musings shall be quote-inspired (and there’s nothing you can do about it). So without further ado–

1. From Russian Doll

Okay, here’s the set up. The main character, Nadia, and her friend Alan are visiting Nadia’s mentor, Ruth, a therapist, and Nadia is trying to get Alan to see Ruth professionally. However, Alan is terrified of therapists; they’re his biggest fear. Something is said about how Nadia’s mother once destroyed all the mirrors in their house, and Alan says, “Why?” Ruth says, “Reflection, proof of existence, another pair of eyes. That’s why therapists are important. Without them, we are very unreliable narrators of our own stories.”

We are very unreliable narrators of our own stories. Amen. So many times I’ve thought that I was doing poorly, and my therapist has reminded me that from almost anyone else’s perspective, I wasn’t. Likewise, so many times I’ve explained away another’s poor behavior, and my therapist has been there to remind me about my personal worth and how to have and enforce good boundaries. Another pair of eyes. Sure, I have friends who do this–provide a different perspective–but I’ve found it invaluable to have a less partial perspective, one that comes from someone who doesn’t approach me or my relationships with a bias or stake in the game.

2. From Eckhart Tolle

Here’s a quote I shared in 2012, from Tolle’s A New Earth. I guess technically it’s two quotes put together. Anyway–“Whenever tragic loss occurs, you either resist or you yield. … If the shutters are closed, the sunlight cannot come in.” I love this, the quote, not the actual practice of surrendering or yielding when something terrible happens. Letting go and admitting I’m not in control is one of the hardest things I ever try to do. I’d much rather dig my heels in, try to fix things. But some things aren’t fixable. In terms of the part about the closed shutters, the picture I get is of someone with their eyes squeezed tight, so afraid of terrible things that they’re unwilling to take another look at the world around them. But what if we opened our eyes, opened our hearts to another perspective? Maybe there’s some good here.

3. From Albert Einstein

This quote is one I shared in 2010 and says, “The most important decision we ever make is whether we believe we live in a friendly universe or a hostile universe.” Wow, talk about the importance of perspective. Personally, I believe we live in a friendly universe. However, I’m the first to admit that I often act as if I believe we live in a hostile universe. That is, whenever I’m sick or broke or something terrible happens, I take it as a personal affront, a hostile attack. And yet so many times the terrible things in my life have turned out to be the most helpful things, the things that taught me and grew me the most, the things that put me in touch with my own good heart. So even when I’m frustrated because it feels like somebody up there has put a “kick me” sign on my back, I try to remember, This is a friendly universe. That means even if I can’t see it yet, there has to be some good here somewhere.

4. From my man Joseph Campbell

This last quote is one I shared in 2013. (JC and I go way back.) It says, “I always feel uncomfortable when people speak about ordinary mortals because I’ve never met an ordinary man, woman, or child.” How perfect is that? This quote reminds me, again, to shift my perspective, to remember that all of us are truly wonders, capable of great love and far-reaching deeds. Granted, society beats this out of us. We beat this out of each other. We tell each other and ourselves that we’re lacking, real pieces of shit, worms. But maybe there’s some good here. Maybe there’s a lot of good here. Maybe we should take a look at ourselves with another pair of eyes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Miracles happen."

My Recharging Strategy (Blog #429)

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Last night I went to an outdoor fundraiser with my former student and current friend Marcie, and it was hot as all get-out. (The event was appropriately termed Havana Nights). Thank God there was an open bar with plenty of cold beverages to cool us down. Y’all, it was a great time–tons of music and food (including cupcakes), and even a little dancing. But the big deal–the really big deal–was the Taco Bell food truck. Who knew that such a magical thing even existed? (The truck came all the way from California.) I asked the guy at the window, “How’s this work?” He said, “You tell me what you want, I give it to you, and you eat it.”

And that’s exactly what happened–to the tune of three crunchy tacos and a bean burrito.

They were so good.

Today I’ve spent the day recovering, trying to eat sensibly, trying to rest like my therapist has been suggesting for–oh–four years now. I slept in this morning then spent the entire day in front of Netflix watching an animated movie, a comedy special, and two documentaries. Simultaneously, I factory reset my phone because the battery has been draining faster than normal lately and I thought that might help. (I’m not sure it did.) Y’all, it took multiple attempts to properly re-sync my contacts because–technology–and a total of three hours to get all my applications re-downloaded and logged into.

It was highly stressful, everything temporarily out-of-place.

I guess today is technology day, since this evening I updated the operating system on my laptop. While that was installing, I went for a run to make myself feel better about my decisions at the taco truck last night, and when I got back about an hour later, the software was installed, but my laptop suddenly shut off while I was getting ready to blog. I turned it back on, but then the keyboard lights were off and the internal fan was blowing, blowing, blowing. (It’s normally not.) Well, shit, I thought. Anyway, after some Googling, I did a reset and a restart, and now things are working fine, except–did I mention?–my power cord has a short in it.

I’ve been so frustrated today–my day of rest!–because of the issues with my laptop and phone battery, the fact that they won’t charge or won’t hold a charge. Maybe I’m hypersensitive to these power issues because my personal energy levels have been so unpredictable lately. Most days it feels as if I’ve been unplugged in one way or another, all my systems operating on reserves that are being rapidly depleted. (Going down, going down!) I want to plug myself back in, of course, which is part of the reason I’m trying to rest more, but I think my recharging strategy should also include paying attention to those things that drain me. For example, today before the last documentary finished, I thought, That’s enough television, but went ahead and watched the rest of the program. Why? (Because I like to check things off my to-do list.) But then tonight on my run I stopped jogging when I got tired and simply walked the rest of the way home. So I don’t always force myself when I’m tired–I do have moments of grace. Ultimately, I think that’s what my body is needing when it’s feeling drained–compassion, not compulsion.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be weird here. You can be yourself.

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