On Creating Time (Blog #1002)

Today I’ve been thinking about how we create time. (I’ll explain.) Caroline Myss says that the divine works in present time, in vertical time, where thought moves into form like a lightening flash. God says, “Let there be light,” and there is. Like, instantly, not in the amount of time it takes to earn a college degree or pass a bill through Congress. Conversely, most of us earthlings work in non-present or past and future time, in horizontal time. We say, “Let there be a pot roast,” and–well–we’re looking at waiting the better part of an afternoon, anywhere from four to eight hours for a seven pound hunk of meat using a crock pot.

How do you cook a pot roast faster, Marcus?

You turn up the heat, of course. You switch your dial from low to high.

Yesterday I touched on the idea that we can decide how quickly we want to get over something–anything from a minor irritation to a gigantic heartache–by (in part) refusing to give it our attention and thus keeping it alive. For example, this afternoon while driving I momentarily crossed into the other (wrong) lane in an effort to get into the turning lane. Well, there was a car coming down the other lane (toward me), but they were far enough away (I thought) as to not be dangerous. Alas, the lady driving the oncoming car apparently disagreed, since she laid on her horn like it was going out of style.

“Did you see her flip you the bird?” my dad said.

“No,” I said, “I try not to look at people when I KNOW they’re angry with me.”

Now, could I have handled this better? Probably. But you know how we all make in-the-moment decisions that aren’t always the best in hindsight. I figure this is part of driving. People pull out in front of me all the time, and usually (but not always) I just think they’re in a hurry or that God wants me to learn patience. Hell, maybe they’re doing me a favor, slowing me down and allowing me to miss some horrific accident down the road. You never know. God works in mysterious ways. Anyway, this afternoon when the lady flipped me off, instead of taking it personally like I have in the past, I kept hearing my therapist say, “People choose their reactions.” Like, the bird lady could have CHOSEN to be gracious.

The lesson being that people’s responses have almost everything to do with them and almost nothing to do with you. Not that I’m recommending TRYING to piss people off, but let’s face it, that lady would have flipped ANYONE off who got in her way. So it really didn’t have anything to do with me.

In other words–and here’s a phrase that’s full of grace should you choose to use it for yourself–it wasn’t personal.

Getting back to the idea of creating time, had I CHOSEN to obsess about what a rotten driver I am or what a turd bucket that lady was, I could have dragged this three-second incident out for hours, days, or weeks. Instead, it was over IN MY MIND in three minutes because I convinced myself it wasn’t worth my mental and emotional resources to keep it alive. Now, I know this example may seem silly, but let’s drive things home (in the correct lane, of course). Recently I heard a story about a woman who, upon FIRST MEETING SOMEONE told them she’d divorced her cheating husband and was absolutely in shambles because he’d fallen in love with her best friend. And whereas my therapist would say this woman had bad boundaries (because you don’t talk about your personal shit to total strangers), here’s the kicker–

all of this happened nineteen years ago.

Consequently, this woman’s body was right here, right now, but her spirit was stuck in the Clinton Administration.

This is what I mean by dragging things out and creating time. When I was with my ex there was a night I got a call from a friend who told me my ex was cheating. Deep down I knew it was true. Had I been willing to move as fast as my intuition (which, incidentally works in present time), to “change as fast as God,” it could have been over that night. I could have moved out the next day. Instead, because I didn’t want to face the truth (as is always the case when we create time), I was with him another five months. Now, I know it could have been worse–some people stay in bad situations for years, decades–but it was a miserable five months.

My aunt’s visiting from out of town this weekend, and earlier today we ended up talking about paper and clutter because we each tend to let things pile up before going through them. Anyway, she said, “I’ve read that the goal with paper is to handle it just once.” Like, you put it in its proper pile and move on with your life. Instead, most of us shuffle this here, shove that there. We say, “I’ll deal with it later.” Consequently, we drag things out and slow things down. We create time. What could be done in five seconds goes on five weeks, five years. And whereas it may not be a big deal to not deal with your TJ MAXX receipts, it is a big deal to not deal with your dramas, traumas, and relationships.

I once knew a grown woman who was absolutely petrified of dogs–any breed, any size. She could see one on a leash blocks away and start running like Florence Griffith Joyner. She never said what the deal was, so I can only assume something terrible happened when she was younger. Anyway, intuitive Robert Ohotto calls this sort of reaction “a time warp.” In other words, in present time there wasn’t a problem. Here’s a lady, there’s a dog a mile away. But in her past-oriented mind, it was a big damn deal. She would tremble. She would cry. This is why the master Jesus taught letting the dead bury the dead and giving no thought for tomorrow. Not because he was insensitive, but because there’s such a heavy price to pay for not being right here, right now.

This is why he taught forgiveness. Not because it’s a holy thing to do, but because it’s a powerful thing to do. Because it keeps you from being stuck in the past.

In the Clinton Administration.

According to Myss, the more we’re stuck or anchored in the past, the slower our life moves. “The more psychic WEIGHT you have,” she says, “the more you have to WAIT for anything [getting a new job, finding a lover, or healing] to happen.” In other words, the faster YOU change, the faster your LIFE will change. This sounds great, of course, but most of us prefer cooking our pot roasts at a slower, lower heat as opposed to a faster, hotter heat because–quite frankly–we can’t stand the heat. For one thing, most of society moves at–at best–a medium, lukewarm speed, and it’s never fun to outrun your friends and family. It’s lonely at the top and whatever. For another, most of us LIKE holding on to the past. We enjoy not forgiving.

Because we get to be right. We get to make other people feel guilty.

We get to flip total strangers the bird.

[FYI, the above pictures are of me and my friends Kate and Aaron and their son, the main connection to tonight’s blog being that they were taken tonight (when we all went out for Tacos). Although we didn’t plan it, we all wore denim jackets. This is one tie-in to creating time I considered writing about but didn’t because I want to go bed. That is, our wearing the same jackets is an example of a synchronicity, and, according to Myss, the more you live your life in present time, the more synchronicities will occur for you.]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

Breathing In AND Out (Blog #423)

After two nights of hard partying and eating and drinking everything Nashville has to offer, I woke up feeling sick this morning. Maybe sluggish is a better word. My body was just yuck. Here’s something–I quit taking antihistamines a few days ago in an effort to “give my body a break,” so my allergies have kicked up a bit. Consequently, last night my ears started itching, and this morning my sinuses were running more than Florence Griffith Joyner in the 1988 Olympics. I thought, Perfect, I’m getting ANOTHER infection.

Of course, by perfect, I meant decidedly not perfect.

I’ve spent the afternoon trying my best to cleanse, guzzling water as if it were going out of style. I’m sure I’ll be up five times in the middle of the night to pee, but maybe in the process I can flush out all of my bad decisions. With any luck, they’ll swirl right down the pipes. Goodbye, cheese and chicken nachos. Goodbye, Blue Moon and scotch.

Blue Moon is a beer, Mom.

In addition to hydrating, I spent the afternoon helping Mallory and the gang get ready for Bonnie’s birthday party, which was this evening. Several days ago we decided on a dinosaur theme because Bonnie likes tiny dinosaurs, in part because of tiny dinosaurs we saw in Austin last year and a subsequent post I wrote about the little suckers. Anyway, I already had plates, napkins, a table-cloth, and a banner with dinosaurs on them, and today Mallory and I picked up some plastic dinosaur toys to set on the table. Later Bonnie said, “I love it. It looks like a party for an eight-year-old boy.”

Here’s a picture of the table just before the festivities kicked off. (For the foodies out there, that carrot cake in the corner was made by magic elves out of nuts, angel dust, and frosting. In other words, it was delicious. Or as I like to say, fattening.)

In order to make the dinosaur toys more festive, we gave them all party hats, some on their heads, some on their tails. (The stegosaurus got three hats on his pointy spine.) One dinosaur even got a polka-dotted collar. (In the photo below, he’s the one with the sign that says, “I heart BoYo.” BoYo is Bonnie’s nickname.) One dinosaur had a sign that said, “Happy Birthday,” but the remaining three had signs that protested growing older. The stegosaurus’s sign said, “I want my life back (now),” and the t-rex held two picket signs in his tiny arms–“Aging Sucks!” and “Down with this sort of thing.” Lastly, the long-necked dinosaur had a sign around his neck that said, “I feel fat!”

Here’s a more zoomed-in picture. Is this the cutest thing you’d ever want to see or what?

After dinner and cake, our crew played a board game, and since Mallory turned the air down (like she does), everyone had to wrap up in blankets to keep from freezing. And whereas everyone else got a “normal” blanket, I got a shark blanket, as Mallory has some strange obsession with sharks. Check it out. When the photo was taken, I’d just finished saying, “What do I do with my hands?”

Now it’s one in the morning, and I feel like a field of dandelions is blooming in my nose. I’m tired. So often these two things put together–sick and tired–make me frustrated, but in this moment, I’m compassionate. (I’ll explain.) This morning at the breakfast table, while eating a homemade waffle, I told Bonnie that although I don’t know exactly what’s going on with my body medically, to me it feels as if it’s on “high alert.” My allergies are set off at the smallest provocation, and my skin gets irritated if someone looks at it wrong. I said, “It’s like my body is mirroring my emotional state. I’ve seen so many shoes drop, most days I don’t know how to expect anything but shoes dropping. Consequently, it’s nearly impossible for me to calm down, to de-alert. If there were one message I could tell both myself and my body, it would be, ‘It’s okay, sweetie, the worst is over. You can relax now.'”

You really do belong here.

I’ve lived so much of my life waiting for shoes to drop, breathing in and just holding it, I honestly forgot that it’s possible to be steady, to not be worried or nervous all the time, to not be constantly irritated or otherwise worked-up about something. Like, no matter where you are or what’s going on, it’s possible to breathe in, then breath out, and feel completely at home and at ease. Like you really do belong here. Like life is on your side. I can’t tell you how much I want this. Better said, I want more of this, since that at-ease feeling does come occasionally and usually in the most unexpected moments. I’m talking about peace, of course, that feeling you get when you’re crying into your waffle because you’ve finally been honest about being scared all these years, finally let go a little, finally breathed out.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Being scared isn’t always an invitation to run away. More often than not, it’s an invitation to grow a pair and run toward.

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