On Winning the Hour and Returning to Balance (Blog #1051)

1 Comment February 14, 2020 CoCo

Currently it’s 4:22, and I’m at the library. On Valentine’s Day. It’s sexy, I know. I just finished up some editing work for a friend and client. When I wrap up this blog, I plan to grab dinner–alone–then meet my friend Kate to see my friend and her husband Aaron in a play at the Fort Smith Little Theater. Based on the photos he’s been posting, at some point during the play he’ll be dressed as a woman. Red wig, fishnet stockings, two-inch heels and everything. Talk about exciting. One minute you’re hanging out at the library, and the next minute you’re really getting a show. This is life, full of twists and turns.

Lately I’ve been thinking about how it doesn’t take much. Like, it doesn’t take much to make your day a good day, it doesn’t take much to heal. Recently I said that doing the right thing isn’t difficult, it’s just figuring out what the right thing is that’s challenging. Yesterday I consulted with the woman whose blog first turned me onto the fact that the bacteria L. sakei can help tremendously with sinus issues. And whereas I tend to overdo the application of this little bad-bacteria-fighting critter, she said, “A little dab will do ya.” This is what I mean by “it doesn’t take much to heal.” I mean it doesn’t HAVE to take much to heal. So you don’t necessarily have to go all out. Just do whatever you need to do in order to bring balance, to tip the scales back to Center.

Along these lines, last night I ordered an air purifier for my room. Now, I read a long time ago that cleaner air is good for your sinuses, but the whole prospect of picking out an air filter and cleaning the air in our entire house seemed too overwhelming, impossible. But last night I figured that even if I breathe cleaner air only while I’m sleeping, that’s a third of the day, and a third of the day is nothing to sneeze at. (This, of course, being my hope, that I won’t be sneezing as much.) Anyway, usually I’m so all-or-nothing. But more and more I’m realizing there’s a lot of room in between, a lot of room where healing can happen. Indeed, more and more I believe that healing doesn’t occur at the extremes.

The lady I spoke to explained it this way. In everyone’s sinuses are bacteria, viruses, and fungi, much like in every neighborhood are juvenile delinquents. But these delinquents are only a problem if their parents go out of town and aren’t able to keep them in check. Again, this is the idea of balance. It’s not that we have to ALWAYS filter our air or can NEVER eat chocolate cake. We just don’t want things to get our of control. This, of course, is a subtle and delicate task.

Back to the idea of things not taking much, this morning a family friend of ours came over to discuss having me frame some of their antique brooches. Anyway, we ended up chatting about her new Fitbit, which helps her keep up with how many steps she takes each day. Well–and you may know this, but it was news to me–apparently every hour you take so many steps, Fitbit says, “You won the hour.” Is this delightful or what? I told my friend that it was going to be my phrase for the day, especially after she said she won the hour by coming over and visiting and laughing with me and my family. That’s the deal, we make happiness and contentment out to be these huge things, something OUT THERE, but winning the hour doesn’t take much, returning to balance doesn’t take much. It just takes being present. To the little things that happen right here, right now. Like laughing with a friend, eating dinner alone (and enjoying your own company), seeing your pal wear fishnet stockings.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

We are all connected in a great mystery and made of the same strong stuff.

I Know Who I Am (Blog #742)

1. I ran

This afternoon I went to the gym with my dad and aunt and ran for 45 minutes straight on the treadmill. This amounted to 3.3 miles and was the longest in both time and distance I’ve gone since my knee injury and subsequent surgery this last December. Let’s hear it for progress. Let’s also hear it for breathing hard, grunting in front of strangers, wearing a sweat-soaked, sopping wet t-shirt (I could have won a contest), and being absolutely sore and worn out later in the day.

2. I got a compliment

This evening I went to see a play at the Fort Smith Little Theater–The Graduate. And whereas the play was delightful, what I’d really like to talk about is my arm pits. I should back up. A couple years ago after going through several rounds of antibiotics, I developed a body odor problem. At least I thought it was a problem. I tend to obsess about little things. Anyway, it’s been an off-and-on thing ever since. One minute I think I have it under control, then the next minute I smell like onions. And whereas I’m always trying different things to help, I’ve recently thought, Screw this. I smell how I smell. I accept myself for who I am.

So get this shit.

Tonight a random stranger, who was sitting next to me during the first half of the show but moved one row down to be by her friend at intermission, told me I smelled good. Like, she went on and on about it to her friend, to the point that I was fanning myself so her friend could get a whiff. There they were, asking if I wore cologne, and I said, “No, but I did take a shower today.” The friend said, “Do you use a shower gel–ANYTHING?” So I said, “Well, I just got a new bar of soap (I didn’t tell them it was because I’m allergic to regular soap)–made out of goat’s milk.”

“Oh yes,” the friend said, like AHA, that’s the ticket. “GOAT’S MILK.”

Y’all, I can’t tell you how good this made me feel.

Daddy’s still got it.

3. I got another compliment

After the show I went backstage to see some friends, and another total stranger told me she liked my aesthetic. I was wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. Oh, and Robert, my brown workman’s jacket. Anyway, I started to brush it off, like, Yeah, some aesthetic. My entire outfit cost twenty-five dollars. But then I thought, She’s entitled to her opinion. So I thanked her and introduced myself instead.

Daddy’s still got it.

4. I got frustrated, then thoughtful

Well crap. Maybe Daddy’s still got it (and to be clear, I impressed a couple ladies tonight, but they are not my target audience), but his website doesn’t. Just as I was saving this post, an issue came up where I couldn’t access certain pages, at least from my current browser. Anyway, I’m chatting with tech support now, so I should go. I’d hate to be rude. But how to end this?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much outward appearances and things to change (whether or not your knees work, body odor, your clothes) don’t matter. My friend Justin told me recently that he never thinks of me as having changed. Not that I haven’t, but when you care about someone, it’s more about their insides than their outsides. And that’s what I’ve noticed these last two years since starting the blog and focusing more on my insides. Not that I don’t think about my outsides–it’s nice to get a compliment–but they’re simply not as important as they used to be. I know who I am.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

Even if you can't be anything you want to be, you can absolutely be who you were meant to be. Don't let anyone else tell you differently.

This Is Your Year (Blog #646)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

The Juice Was Worth the Squeeze (Blog #619)

1 Comment December 9, 2018 CoCo

I spent this afternoon at the Fort Smith Little Theater. Today was the final performance of our holiday variety show, for a private group that bought out the entire theater. The show went really well, and the best part was that the vast majority of the audience members were elderly. What I mean is that since I’ve been on crutches this last week, I’ve felt a tiny bit conspicuous, like the odd man out, the only guy in the room with just one working kneecap. But y’all, today the AVERAGE person in the audience was in a wheelchair. Talk about feeling at home. There were broken knees and hips on every aisle. Hell, by comparison, I looked SPRY.

As they say, everything is relative.

After last night’s show (which also went well), we had a cast party, and some of my friends had to carry my food from the buffet line to where I was sitting, since I couldn’t carry it for myself (what with the crutches and all). I say they “had to,” but of course they volunteered to. No one held a gun to their heads. Indeed, they assisted quite willingly. This is the thing I’m still processing, that so many people seem eager to lend me a hand, grab me a drink of water, or help me get to my car. It really is humbling. And good for me, I think. I’ve been SO independent for so long, I’ve needed this reminder. No man is an island.

When today’s show was over, most of the cast stayed to tear down the set and clean up the theater. However, since I’m grossly immobile, the only thing I could help clean was the kitchen. That is to say, I ate all the leftover cheese from last night’s party. (You’re welcome.) But seriously, I threw a few things away, then left the work to those who were more able and agile. For a “do-er” like me, this wasn’t exactly easy, walking away from “a project.” Well, LIMPING away from a project. But I think it’s important to realize–there are times to show up and rise to the occasion, and there are times to bow out and walk/limp away, and it’s good to know the difference.

I spent this evening with my friends and former roommates Justin and Ashley at their house. We talked for hours and hours. (We laughed, we cried, lives were changed.) At one point Justin used a phrase I hadn’t heard before–“the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze.” I don’t remember what he was referring to, but isn’t that the perfect saying? Personally, I’m going to start using it anytime I get asked about one of my exes.

Yuck, yuck, yuck.

As I was at Justin and Ashley’s until after midnight, it’s now almost two in the morning. No kidding, I really did try to get away sooner, but Justin and I don’t do short conversations. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about that phrase in reverse. What I mean is that when I was visiting with Justin, I KNEW I’d come home late and be blogging during the wee hours (and that my brain and body would want to be in bed instead). But I’m okay with being tired and a little frustrated (that I can’t rub two thoughts together in this moment) because I got a huge amount of joy and satisfaction from hanging out with my dear friends. In other words, the juice WAS WORTH the squeeze.

Likewise, being involved at the theater this last week has been physically challenging. Every day for the last eight days–every day since my knee injury–I’ve had to get dressed (not the easiest thing with a bum leg), crawl into my car, and slowly crutch my way on and off stage, even though I could have easily stayed home. But this morning my dad said, “I imagine this has been good for you, that it’s distracted you from your problems and helped the week go faster.” He was right–it has. And despite how difficult it’s been at times, this experience has given more than it’s taken–I’ve learned new things, made new friends, laughed my butt off, and come to see the world as a kinder place.

So that’s big.

Use your challenges as a vehicle for transformation, not consternation.

I guess what I’m getting at is that this knee problem is not something I’d choose to have happen again. My life turned upside down in an unfortunate instant. But already it’s taught me so much that again I’d have to say–the juice was worth the squeeze. I say that and realize this ordeal isn’t over. I mean, I’m probably looking at surgery and rehab, and I’m sure those things will be a serious drag. I’ll probably curse a lot. But this is a choice I think we all have to make either before, during, or even long after the “squeezes” in our lives–whether or not the are going to be “worth it” to us. For me, it comes down to looking for the good instead of the bad, to using my challenges as a vehicle for transformation, not consternation.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

The more honest you are about what's actually happening inside of you, the happier you are.

The Ones We Admire (Blog #618)

2 Comments December 8, 2018 CoCo

I swear. This new blog editing software is driving me crazy. (My dad says it’s a short trip. Everyone’s a comedian.) But seriously. Yesterday I couldn’t find the spell checker, and now I’m typing NEXT to my daily selfie instead of UNDER it.

Technology is so hard. (Okay, I figured it out.)

Something else that’s hard is living life on one leg, which I’ve been doing for a solid week now, ever since I injured my left knee during a dance performance. No shit. Everything that I used to do so easily–like putting on my underwear, tying my shoes, and going to the bathroom–now requires a five-step plan. Earlier I hobbled into the kitchen to refill my cup of coffee and literally had to strategize about how to get it back to the living room, since I couldn’t exactly use my walker and hold onto my beverage at the same time. Well, I ended up scooting the drink on the counter beside me until I made it out of the kitchen, then stood between the counter and an end table and passed the cup from one hand to the other, then REEEEEA-CHED for the edge of the table. Thankfully, this worked.

The things we do for caffeine.

Earlier today I stumbled across an internet article about a guy who lost his left leg to cancer when he was nine and now creates funny Halloween costumes around the whole situation. I guess it all started as a joke several years ago when he decided to be a gingerbread man whose leg had been “bitten” off. Anyway, what a fabulous reminder that you can make the best of a bad situation. And obviously we humans can learn to adapt. This guy seems to get around fabulously and can even balance himself upside down on his crutches. (Don’t worry, Mom, I’m not going to try anything stupid.)

Despite this inspiration, I don’t mind saying that having a bum leg is a serious drag. (Get it–a serious DRAG?) Even before this accident, for weeks, I haven’t taught a single dance lesson and have been strapped for cash. Then today–out of the blue–a woman calls and says she’s interested in learning to jitterbug. Ever the optimist, I thought, Surely I could TALK her and her husband through learning at least the basics. But then–with actual enthusiasm–she said, “I don’t have a partner!” Normally this wouldn’t be a problem–I could dance with her–but in my current condition, there’s no way in hell. Geez. The universe can be a real bastard sometimes. Who dangles the proverbial carrot in front of someone while knowing full well there’s NO WAY they can even come close to taking a bite of it?

Talk about a twisted sense of humor.

Speaking of a twisted sense of humor, last night’s holiday variety show at the little theater went–uh–okay, at least with respect to our musical improv number. Personally, I think the night before went better. But these things happens. “What’s a place that puts you in the holiday spirit?” we always ask at the beginning of the show. Well get this shit. Last night some broad says, “Sea World!” The night before someone said, “Walmart.” (What the hell is wrong with people?) Anyway, last night we sang about Christmas at Sea World, and it was–um–challenging. That being said, one guy in our group (not me) absolutely saved us with his last verse about Orca Whales. (Phew.)

This is the deal with improv comedy. Sometimes you do something good (fabulous even), sometimes you do something mediocre, and sometimes you flop. I guess the important thing is to try, to put yourself out there. The guy in our group who saved us was literally flopping around on stage like a whale, and it was a smash. Later he said, “I’m just not afraid of being embarrassed.” No kidding, this is the secret to good comedy. Maybe to life. You gotta be willing to put yourself out there. In my second improv skit, my partner pretended to be a drunk woman at a holiday office party, and the next thing I knew he was diving through an invisible laminating machine. It was hilarious.

Maybe you would have had to have been there.

These, I think, are the ones we admire, the ones we stand in awe of from a distance, the ones who are willing to dare and live fully in the moment. Yesterday on the way home from the theater, I was thinking about how much grief I’ve given my body over the years, mostly for not looking like HIS. So much time I’ve spent being disappointed in a perfectly good body–a body that had two working legs!–legs that carried me anywhere I wanted to go, legs that danced, and legs that gave, and gave, and gave. Talk about not being on your own team. Anyway, now one of my legs is asking for a break (no pun intended), so I’m doing my best to finally listen to my body, give it time to heal, and appreciate it for what it is and what it CAN do. Hopefully, we’ll come through this situation less embarrassed, more willing to live each moment as fully as possible, together.