On Riding a Unicorn (Blog #1003)

Yesterday I talked about how things aren’t personal, and today I’ve been thinking about how this concept applies to our dramas and traumas. For example, I’ve talked before about my home burning down when I was four and my dad going to prison when I was fourteen and how these incidents (in addition to others) have shaped my personality, fears, insecurities, and strengths. And in the sense that these events happened to and directly affected me, they certainly FEEL personal. And yet there are thousands and hundreds of thousands of children, teenagers, and adults whose homes have burned down and/or who have been separated from their loved ones through gross circumstances (imprisonment, abandonment, divorce, border patrol, death).

The logical conclusion being that these situations AREN’T TRULY PERSONAL to Marcus Anderson Coker. Rather, they’re simply things that go down here on planet earth.

What’s the saying?

Shit happens.

Having cussed and discussed every terrible thing in my life with my therapist and–to a large extent but not totally–on this blog, more and more I’m choosing to see these things not personally, but impersonally. Better said, I’m choosing to see them through the lens of symbol and myth. For anyone struggling to let go of and move on from a nasty circumstance, this is a lifesaver. Humor is a lifesaver, and symbolic and mythological sight is a lifesaver. What I mean is that in all good stories–including fairy tales, novels, and movies–every hero worth his or her salt has a challenge. They’re deformed. They’re beat up, abused, left out, alone, sick. They’re a forty-year-old virgin. They have to be.

Why, Marcus?

Because there wouldn’t be an interesting plot otherwise. Because there wouldn’t be any drama. Because heroes aren’t BORN doing heroic things. Rather, they have to have SOMETHING to overcome. Something sad, heartbreaking, or scary that forces or at least strongly encourages them to dig deep and bring forth their inner resources. This is how they BECOME a hero. This is why–let’s face it–Cinderella is nothing without her evil step-mother and step-sisters, Luke Skywalker is nothing without Darth Vader, and Inigo Montoya is nothing without the six-fingered man.

Once I heard the philosopher Alan Watts point out that the Bible says to love your enemies–it doesn’t say not to have any. “Love your enemies AS your enemies,” Watts said. Why? Because, again, we need our enemies to help shape us–not into bitter beings, but into better beings. And, to be clear, “our enemies” applies not only to humans, but also to events, circumstances, and situations that we’ve deemed awful, unspeakable, and tragic. Like being made fun of repeatedly; being born “the wrong” skin color, sexuality, or gender; being in a car accident; having a heart attack; getting cancer; and being cheated on or fired.

Yes, we need these things.

This sucks, I know.

Now, I’m not saying we NEED these terrible things the way we need air to breathe. But I am saying THEY DO happen (a lot), and we have a CHOICE about how to see ourselves when they occur. That is, we can picture ourselves as victims (and you know how that story goes), or we can picture ourselves as heroes. We can say, “This is the thing that will bring out my highest potential. This is my personal dark forest to walk through on my way to the castle. This is my dragon to slay.”

And then instead of whining and running, we can say, “Bring it on.”

This afternoon I went antique shopping with my friends Aaron and Kate and their son and wore a rhinestone unicorn brooch I bought just yesterday while shopping with my aunt. Y’all, it a big hit, at least for Fort Smith. I got three compliments, all from total strangers. The last person said, “I just adore your brooch. I LOVE unicorns. They’re such MYTHICAL creatures.”

So get this shit. While antique shopping I bought a handful of old books solely based on their covers (for craft projects). Well, when I got the books home I noticed one was called–and I’m not making this up–Bring Me a Unicorn by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. A few pages in there was even a poem by the author about a unicorn that went, “Everything today has been heavy and brown. Bring me a Unicorn to ride about the town.” And whereas I found all of this delightfully fun, I also found it synchronistic, so I thought, Okay, Marcus, hop to. What’s the universe reminding you?

For me, this “coincidence” was first a reminder to believe in “impossible” things (like healing, mending relationships, finding a lover, and getting a job), something I’ve been challenging myself to do lately. Second, it was a reminder to see not only my own life but also life in general impersonally and mythologically. This is huge. Because when you’re impersonal about whatever shitty thing is going on (the way Jesus was when Judas betrayed him), it won’t change you for the worse, it will transform you for the better. You’ll say, “This HAS to happen because it’s part of my story.” (Note that if JESUS was betrayed–like any good hero is–you certainly will be too.) So yes. Especially on days that are “heavy and brown,” it’s vital to view things from another (magical, mystical, mythical) perspective. To not get stuck in your antique, non-productive, drag-me-down ways of thinking and believing. To instead be open to new ideas. To at least once a day ride a unicorn.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The symbols that fascinate us are meant to transform us.

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(In)dependence (Blog #154)

Ever since college my hands almost always go numb when I run for more than fifteen minutes. It’s not bad enough to make me stop, but–you know–it’s annoying. It’s like whenever your legs fall asleep while you’re sitting on the toilet. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Anyway, I’m a curious person–or as my therapist recently said, a nosy Ned–so for the last fifteen years I’ve asked probably a dozen chiropractors, massage therapists, and other body workers, “What’s up with my tingly fingers?” The answer? Crickets.

Every. Single. Time.

So this morning I had a massage from my friend Gena, and while she was working on my chest and arms, I casually mentioned the sometimes-numbness in my arms. “That makes sense,” she said. “Your neck muscles are tight, and there’s a nerve underneath them that runs down your arm. Plus, when you run, you bend your elbows, and that plays a part too.” Genius.

Now was that so hard?

I love how you can spend fifteen years looking for an answer to a problem, and then–really without warning–one just falls out of somebody’s mouth–like, no big deal. And by that I mean, I don’t really love that. I mean, I love that I have an answer now, but I don’t love the fact that life is pretty much like being dropped in the middle of board game, never being kindly informed of the rules, and somehow being expected to win. Whether it’s trying to heal an impossible problem or trying to figure yourself–let alone anyone else–out, life is not like an infomercial–three easy steps. Rather, it seems most successes are hard-won and long waited for. Honestly, I have a real problem with this setup. I’m putting it on my list of “things I think could be done differently,” in the event God ever asks for my good opinion.

I realize it could be a while before this happens.

Tonight in improv class we played a game called Sound Effects, which involves two people providing dialogue and gestures and two other people providing noises. Ideally, all four people are sort of working together, even though two of them are off stage. Maybe the scene is a battlefield, and one person covers his head like a big explosion has gone off, but the person making noises utters a real soft, “Dink.” Then the person on stage has to respond appropriately and change directions.

Honestly, I can’t tell you how difficult this class is turning out to be, mostly for the simple reason that I don’t always like to work with others. I’m a control freak. There, I said it. You know, when you work in a group, you sort of have to trust that the other person is going to do their part. Plus, you have to do yours. Sometimes that happens–sometimes it doesn’t. It’s like, sometimes you can ask a question and get an answer, and sometimes you’re just met with a blank stare. It’s just the way life is.

I hate that. (One more for the list.)

Tonight my emotions got the best of me, and I went out for chocolate cake. “You know what,” I told the waitress, “I’m gonna need some ice cream with that too.” Ugh. It was delicious. I feel fat now, but I paid good money for the elastic waistband in these shorts I’m wearing, so I guess it’s like finally getting a return on my investment. My friend Marla says, “Feelings only last a few minutes unless you feed them,” but I think she meant that in a metaphorical sense, and not in a literal–feed your feelings chocolate cake–sense. Because feeding my emotions tonight actually seemed to shut them up for a while.

When I got home tonight, I lay (and yes, that’s correct grammar) on the futon, read a Sherlock Holmes novel, and stretched. For a short while I did a yoga pose called Half Hero (pictured above), which is an accurate description of what I feel like on a day-to-day basis. Not quite Full Hero status. Full Hero involves sitting on your shins with your feet folded under, then reclining on your back. It’s basically a quad stretch, and if your quads are tight (like mine are), it hurts like hell and is a good way to start a conversation (and by that I mean an argument) with your knees. Well, Half Hero is just one leg at a time, and that’s all I can currently muster without completely wanting to jump out of my skin.

Gena told me today that everything on my right side is tight. This wasn’t a newsflash to me, but she said it was a wonder I wasn’t walking in circles. When I talked about always getting headaches on my right side, she said that pain shows up in our weakest spot. So tonight I’ve been thinking that emotionally, my weak spot is trusting other people. That’s why I have trouble relaxing on a massage table. That’s why I get nervous in group projects. There are plenty of psychological reasons for this, and I’m sure the case could be made that those reasons have made me the independent fella I am today. (Americans love independence!) BUT, the truth is that no one gets through life alone, and no one person has all the answers. That’s why we have to keep asking for help, trusting that one day someone will have the solution we’re looking for. We–I–have to be willing to work together. Sure, like stretching a tight muscle, it might be uncomfortable at first, but one day–maybe when you lease expect it–things relax, the pain subsides, and healing seems possible.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All things are moving as they should.

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