The Water Wouldn’t Let Me Worry (Blog #935)

What a delightful day. This afternoon I helped a friend work on their deck for two and a half hours, and that was it. By 3:15 I was a free man. And whereas the old me would have gone to a coffee shop and read a book, the new me grabbed a smoothie and headed to Natural Dam.

I’ll explain.

Yesterday I wrote about my taking a 10-day online class with Wim Hof, who promotes deep breathing and cold exposure as ways to tap into your potential, reset and exercise your nervous and cardiovascular systems, relieve stress, and heal. Today was day eight of the class, and the suggested assignment was 1) spend thirty minutes walking in nature, preferably barefoot, and 2) if possible, go for a swim in cold water. Since Wim suggests doing all this in a pair of shorts (fewer clothes means more cold exposure and more vitamin D), today was the perfect day for it–it was 66 degrees outside. Any less and this self-avowed cold hater may not have been on board.

Something that’s come across my radar screen the last few months is the idea that being in nature is good for us. I know, I know, it makes sense, fresh air and whatever. Wim points out that we exhale carbon dioxide, and trees inhale carbon dioxide. Conversely, trees exhale oxygen, and we inhale oxygen. So no wonder being in nature feels good. We are one system. Tonight I watched a documentary called Heal for Free about the benefits of grounding or earthing, physically connecting with the earth by walking barefoot or touching a tree. And whereas I can’t say anything about the science behind it, I do know it feels good. This afternoon I walked the trails at Natural Dam for half an hour, and it was absolutely fabulous.

Of course, I had to be careful while walking barefoot. There were plenty of hard rocks and sharp stickers along the way. That being said, I simply watched where I was going and moved slowly. Perhaps this is one of the benefits of walking barefoot–it forces you to be mindful. Plus, there’s something about literally touching the earth that feels good. There’s something primal about it.

Will I feel this way when it’s 42 degrees outside? I doubt it, but I’m open to the idea.

As good as walking in nature felt, what felt even better–and yes I’m being serious–was slipping into the cold waters of Mountain Fork Creek (the creek that feeds Natural Dam). That’s right, I did it, I got in. And whereas I don’t know how cold the water was, I know it was certainly chilly. Still, once I took a few deep breaths and submerged myself to my neck (I had to lie flat because I apparently picked a shallow spot to climb in), I was okay. Granted, I never got warm, but I did stop shivering and actually relaxed. And whereas it wasn’t deep enough to swim, I did kick my legs around and managed to stay in for–I’m guessing–five minutes.

Believe it or not, I can’t wait to do it again. For those five minutes–and this is the point of cold exposure–I was absolutely present, just enjoying the sensations, taking in the gorgeous sights. (Have you ever lay in a running creek and really looked at a tree overheard or stared at the horizon?!) Seriously, when you’re in cold water, you’re too busy breathing to think about your bills. I tried, but the water wouldn’t let me worry. What’s more, when it was over, I was left with a natural high, a sense of being truly alive, like I was bigger, stronger than I was before.

I’ve never gotten this feeling from watching Netflix.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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When the universe speaks—listen.

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Healing Requires Slowing Down (Blog #309)

I don’t always know what to do when I have extra time on my hands. When I woke up this morning I made a plan for the afternoon, and I was supposed to be on a phone call right now. But that didn’t work out. Now I have about twenty minutes until the next call is supposed to happen, so I’m just sitting here listening to Fleetwood Mac and trying to remember the last time I took a shower. (It’s obviously been too long ago.) I keep thinking I could read a chapter in a book, send some emails regarding the swing dance event I’m working on, or dig through the refrigerator–anything to stay busy.

Obviously, I decided to blog. I mean, that’s the ONE THING that absolutely has to happen sometime today. Might as well be now.

I do think my need to fill up every damn minute of every damn day with activity has gotten better. You should have seen me five years ago. I refused to slow down. But there’s nothing like being unemployed and living with your parents to help you change your standards. Like, nothing feels “urgent” anymore. Except watching Days of Our Lives, nothing feels critical in this house. Read a book, don’t read a book. Do something, don’t do something. Whatever happens happens, and it’s okay.

Sometimes when I keep myself busy, it’s because I think it’s important to do so. Maybe it’s an ego thing, but on some level I tell myself that I HAVE to do whatever it is I’m doing. Like, no one can recycle these cans or go to the grocery store as well as I can. Or, if I don’t stay up late to teach this dance lesson, someone’s life is going to fall apart. (Please.) I used to have a friend who worked for a big non-profit. Quite literally, they saved lives. But I watched their body break down under the pressure of that story. They’d go for days without sleeping telling themselves that if they didn’t, people would die. And whereas I’m all for helping others, come on–how can you really help someone else if you can’t even help yourself?

More often than not, I think that story about feeling important or “being needed” is just a story we tell ourselves. I’m not saying you’re not important. You are. We all are. But what I am saying is that I think we often go-go-go in order to distract ourselves–from ourselves. This, of course, is a difficult and almost impossible thing to do, but that doesn’t stop us from trying. At least I know that’s been my experience. So many times I’ve filled up every minute of every day doing anything and everything under the sun in order to avoid getting quiet and simply sitting and being okay with whatever is inside me–nervousness, anxiousness, fear, sadness, even joy.

Hell, if emotions were easy to deal with directly, everyone would do it.

This morning before I got out of bed, I scrolled, scrolled, scrolled through Facebook. I thought about going back to sleep, but I couldn’t convince my body that that was a good idea. Finally, I put down my phone and worked on some deep-breathing exercises I learned recently. After a few minutes, my eyes started watering, my body twitched a bit, and some memories came up. This sort of thing has been happening more and more frequently over the last several months, so it didn’t bother me. But I did think, How long has THAT been hanging around, just waiting for me to slow down and breath deeply enough for it to rise to the surface?

Your body remembers.

The more experiences I have like this, the more I’m convinced that our emotions and experiences are stored in and deeply affect our physical bodies. For the longest time I’ve believed in my head that “your biography becomes your biology,” but now I believe it in my heart. Your body remembers. Last night my friend Bonnie and talked about this–the difference between knowing something in your head and knowing in your entire being. I think that’s part of what my current journey is about, really believing that every cell in my body is intelligent and conscious and is not only “for me,” but is also capable of healing and letting go at the deepest level.

I’m convinced that healing of this sort doesn’t happen when you’re running around, filling up every minute of every day. It absolutely requires slowing down, getting quiet, and holding space for whatever arises. And if there’s one benefit to my being tired, sick, and worn out these last few months, this is it. It’s forced, or at least strongly encouraged me, to meet myself, to really see what’s going on inside here. And whereas I want my physical body to bounce back and “feel better,” I know that regardless of what it does, my body is better for having walked this road, and this is a journey for which my soul is thankful.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No good story ever ends.

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