Your Body Is on Your Side (Blog #1075)

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After four days of feeling like rough stuff, sneezing and hacking like all get out, this morning I woke up better. Not completely full of energy, but more energized. I haven’t sneezed all day. Let’s hear it for my miraculous body and its willingness to rise to the occasion (hip, hip, hooray!). This being said, my lower back has got me groaning like a bayou frog, and my hips feel like a door on rusty hinges. Either I spent too much time in bed this weekend, or my body is rebelling against the anesthesia I had for my EDG three days ago. I mean, that stuff knocks you out for a reason.

It ain’t no shit.

This afternoon I saw my upper cervical doctor, and he said I looked south of fabulous. Still, he decided to “push me” (that is, not give me an adjustment), in hopes that my body and nervous system will kick in and do their thing. Like, Oh, yeah, that’s supposed to be our job. So sorry we forgot! Thanks for the reminder.

My grandmother used to do this thing at holidays. She’d slave away in the kitchen for hours making a stupendous meal (which was free for us, her family, to eat, by the way), and when we’d compliment her, instead of saying, “Thank you,” like you’re supposed to, she’d come back with, “Well the broccoli casserole is undercooked because I got a new stove this year” or “The potatoes would have been warmer if you’d been here on time.” (That’s called being passive aggressive.) My point being that, for whatever reason, she simply couldn’t be satisfied. And I get it. As a recovering perfectionist, I really get it. My body just kicked a cold’s butt, and I’m like, my hip hurts. But more and more I’m purposing to focus on what IS working rather than what ISN’T.

Along these lines, I’m more convinced than ever that my body is on my side. I’m more convinced than ever that it’s trying and doing the best it can. Steve Goodier said, “You have a great body. It is an intricate piece of technology and a sophisticated super-computer. It runs on peanuts and even regenerates itself. Your relationship with your body is one of the most important relationships you’ll ever have. And since repairs are expensive and spare parts are hard to come by, it pays to make that relationship good.” To me this means that it’s incumbent upon me to do everything I can to support my body in its efforts to heal. By taking pressure out of the system (by letting go of tension and old emotions), by drinking water, by listening to what it has to tell me.

In terms of listening to what my body has to tell me, there are times I’m absolutely blown away by the messages it sends me. Day in and day out my intuition speaks to me about my relationships (dump them, call them), professional matters (create this, read that), and health matters (eat this, don’t eat that). And lightening fast. More and more I’m sure that one’s personal growth and even their spiritual growth center around this lifelong challenge–learning how to hear, trust, and act upon your own inner guidance. Even if no one else approves or understands. Even if you can’t say why.

Especially if you can’t say why.

For me the phrase that comes up when I get inner guidance is “I just know.” Like, I just knew my therapist was the right one for me, just like I knew Momentum was the right name for my former dance studio. Earlier tonight there was a singer on The Voice (Jon Mullins), and within three seconds of hearing him introduced, before he’d even sung a note, I just knew he was going to be good. I could feel it all over my body. And, y’all, he was awesome. He absolutely killed it. What’s more, and maybe this is why I got that feeling (and it doesn’t matter, I don’t have to know WHY), his song, “Don’t Give Up on Me” by Andy Grammar, was the perfect reminder.

I’ll explain.

First imagine that YOU are singing these words to your body. “I will fight. Yes, I will fight for you. We’ll make it to the other side.” Then imagine that YOUR BODY is singing these words to you. “I’m not giving up, I’m not giving up, no not me. I’m not going down that easily.” This, I believe, is really the relationship we should have with our magnificent bodies, a relationship in which we realize that we’re on the same page, that we want the best for ourselves, a relationship in which we fight for each other. For ourselves. More and more my advice to myself or anyone else is: trust yourself and the body you’ve been given for your journey. You’re both wise beyond measure, capable of far more than you ever imagined. So hang in there. And bet on yourself. Give yourself a chance. Don’t give up on you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Who’s to say that one experience is better than another?

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See Above for Results (Blog #1007)

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Yesterday I communicated online with a seller from Facebook Marketplace who’d listed a couple items I was interested in. “I’d like to look at them before deciding to buy them,” I said. “Where and when would be good to meet?”

“I’ll be in Fort Smith tomorrow around 3:00,” they said.

Maybe they’ll tell me where later, I thought.

This afternoon they said, “Looks like it’s going to be about 4:30.” And whereas I was beginning to doubt 1) whether I really wanted the items and 2) if this person would actually show up, about 4:20 I went ahead and got ready to go. Climbing into the car, I messaged the seller. “Where should we meet?” I said. Alas, twenty-five minutes later I was in Fort Smith with no answer. Perhaps it’s just as well, I thought. I really don’t need to spend the money. Plus, the whole situation just felt “off.”

Recently I had a meeting scheduled with someone and the day of woke up three hours early thinking, I should cancel. However, not wanting to be a douchebag, I didn’t. For this, I paid the price. I spent the whole day with an upset stomach. Every hour I was running to the bathroom. (If this is too graphic, I apologize.) Thankfully, by the time the meeting started I calmed down. But never completely. Again, the whole thing just felt “off.” Now, nothing BAD happened, but a few days later the person with whom I met ended up being rude in a text message. Later when I discussed the matter with my therapist she said, “That’s a big deal when your body wakes you up tell you something. My guess is that queasy feeling you had is your body’s particular TELL for ‘this is going to be a waste of our time.’ Next time, cancel.”

Y’all, I get it. Cancelling would have made sense. And it’s not that I didn’t think of it. It just seemed like, well, not a very NICE thing to do. (What does your therapist always say, Marcus? Nice is a strategy–to get people to like you, to get moved up to the front of the line, to get someone in bed.) That’s what I kept thinking today on my way to meet the seller in Fort Smith, that I wanted to cancel but that it was TOO LATE, that it wouldn’t be VERY NICE. So honestly I was relieved when they didn’t respond. Because it gave me an out.

Sort of.

I’ll explain.

When I got to Fort Smith and hadn’t heard anything, I stopped by AutoZone to have my car, Tom Collins, checked. His check engine light’s been on lately. And whereas I assumed it had something to do with the fuel gauge (which lately has said I’m full one minute and empty the next), I wanted to be sure. The good news? I was right. The bad news?

“You’ll probably have to replace the entire fuel pump,” the guy said, “and that’ll run you $390.”

Plus tax, of course.

Okay, I thought, I definitely don’t need to buy anything today. So, still not having heard anything from the seller and twenty minutes after we were supposed to meet, I wrote them, “I came to town to meet you but ended up having car trouble along the way. Unfortunately, I’ll be spending my money on auto repairs. I apologize for any inconvenience.”

At which point they replied, “Wow I drove fifteen minutes.”

No “I’m sorry about your car” or anything.

Which just goes to show you that we all make everything about us.

This isn’t the way things went down in reality.

Now, do I blame this person for being upset? No. Over the years I’ve had plenty of people flake out on dance lessons at the last minute or not show up at all, and it’s frustrating. Especially if you’re counting on the money. Do I wish that they’d been more gracious about it (I mean, I drove fifteen minutes too, and my car’s broken), or that we’d both communicated more clearly in the first place? Of course. And if IFS and BUTS were candy and nuts, we’d all have a Merry Christmas. In other words, this isn’t the way things went down in reality.

Y’all, I could go on and on about what I think both me and this other person did right and wrong in this situation. If this were a gameshow and you could all vote–I’m sure–some of you would say I’m the shithead here, and others would say the seller is. Some of you would think BOTH of us are. I think that’s the camp I’m in. Meaning that some circumstances in life aren’t cut and dried. Instead, they’re simply less than ideal. Gross.

Like, aren’t we glad that’s over?

Having had the evening to over-process this mess, I have a few takeaways. First, more and more I’m learning to trust my intuition. That is, I’m glad I cancelled, since, based on the person’s response, I don’t think I would have enjoyed or felt good about the interaction had it gone through. Granted, I didn’t follow my intuition as soon as I could have (and thus the mess), but I did follow it faster than I would have even a year ago, and that’s progress. Which brings me to my second point–authenticity and the self-esteem necessary to pursue it are things that require PRACTICE, and this practice, rather than occurring on a grand scale (like in a court room), more often occurs in the nitty gritty of everyday life. With our friends. With our family. With total strangers we meet on Facebook.

This is the shit my therapist and I talk about, the day-to-day dramas. Sure, we discuss THE BIG STUFF, but usually the little stuff leads us to the big stuff, since the little stuff tends to touch a wound. I’m not good enough. I did something wrong. Why doesn’t everyone like me?

Of course, not everyone is supposed to like you. (Why not, Marcus?) Because you need PRACTICE liking yourself no matter what.

Seen from this perspective, I COULD be thankful for the seller’s response today. (“The response THEY CHOSE,” my therapist would say.)

Are you thankful, Marcus?

I’m working on it before your very eyes.

Over a year ago I wrote about a statue of mine I call ANY DANCING JESUS that images Christ with his arms raised overhead as if here were just beginning the chorus of “YMCA.” Anyway, this evening while futzing with a picture frame and the cover an old book, I placed the statue inside the frame. (See above for results.) In the process I remembered that, despite the fact that Jesus was the original DFF (damn fine fella), not everyone liked him either. (So what makes you think they’ll like you?) I also remembered that part of his message was to “rise above,” or see things from a higher perspective. (See above for results.) Like, for all I know, I did the seller a favor by getting them out of their house where they otherwise would have been robbed or mugged. Lastly, I remembered that by his example Christ taught us to set it free, bitch. (I added the bitch part.) That is, he taught us to forgive, forgive, forgive (ourselves and others), to let go (of our mistakes and the mistakes of others), and to not judge (anyone including ourselves).

Of course, these amount to the same thing.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We can rewrite our stories if we want to.

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How to Navigate Relationships (Blog #995)

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This morning I woke up early to rifle through used books at a thrift store. And whereas I was super tired, I scored nineteen beautifully covered books (I’m using their covers for craft projects) for only a dollar a piece. Talk about a bargain. When I got home I set two books aside I decided to keep (one for me, one for a friend), then removed the covers from the other seventeen with a razor blade. Wouldn’t you know it? After all the work was done and I set the blade down, my left hand slipped off one of the books onto the blade and I cut my middle finger. Y’all, I started bleeding like a stuck pig. The worst part about it? I did the same thing yesterday to my ring finger.

“Did I never teach you how to use sharp objects?” my dad said.

“No,” I replied, holding up my Bandaid-covered hand. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Yesterday I bought three pieces of costume jewelry for two dollars. When I got them home, however, I noticed they were all missing jewels. Tossing them away I thought, Fool me once. This afternoon I used glitter spray paint on a picture frame but didn’t let it dry long enough. Now there’s an indentation where my hand was. Next time, sweetheart, be patient, I told myself. Don’t jump the gun. My point being in all these situations–no matter how old you get, there’s always more to learn. Especially with any new endeavor or undertaking (and I may NEED an undertakER if I keep slicing myself open), there’s always room for improvement.

Knowing that we don’t–can’t–know everything should keep us humble.

One of the books I dismantled for its cover was Extraordinary Lives by American Express. That’s right, the credit card company. Anyway, best I could tell by thumbing through it, the book was a collection of inspirational stories paired with original artwork and well-laid-out quotes from the book’s various storytellers. And whereas I didn’t read any of the stories, I did cut out several of the quotes I thought were worth taking in. Things like, “You didn’t have arguments and problems and lawsuits with patients. You had relationships.” And, “You can’t have everything you want. You’re not going to get the other side to commit suicide.”

For me, the two quotes I just mentioned are tied together. That is, only if a relationship goes sour will you have (major, lawsuit-like) problems, and only if those problems get way out of hand will you want the other side to cease existing. Tonight I attended a Christmas party, and one my friends pointed out that relationships most always go sour when we ignore red flags. I’m sure we’ve all had the experience of looking back and thinking, I knew Phil was a cheater all along. I knew Sally was a kleptomaniac. Fine China doesn’t just up and walk away on its own.

“Why do we ignore red flags,” my friend said? “Because we have an agenda with someone. Because we want something from them.”

Ugh. Is this the truth or what? I’ve ignored my intuition with overbearing friends because I wanted to be perceived as “nice.” I’ve ignored it with inappropriate clients because I wanted their money. I’ve ignored it with love interests because I didn’t want to be alone. But more and more I’d rather be “rude” (or rather perceived as rude), broke, and alone than spend time with someone who isn’t a good match for me. And let’s face it–if they’re not a match for me, I’m not a match for them, so I’m doing both of us a favor. Along these lines, my therapist says that when you’re honest with someone–like, this just isn’t working for me–you not only give them permission to be honest, but you also free up both of your time and attention for others who ARE a match for you.

At one point today I had someone preface something they were about to tell me by saying, “I know you won’t tell anybody.” And whereas I haven’t always zipped my lips when someone asked me to in the past, I’m getting better at it. Like, I’m NOT talking about it on the internet. Or at all. I mean, if someone confides in me, that means they TRUST me, and that’s huge. Because trust takes years to build up.

But only a moment to shatter.

To the party tonight I wore a bow tie that was recently gifted to my by my friend Lydia (who won it as a door prize at a dance we attended together) and a brass brooch in the shape of two flowers–mums. As in, MUM’S THE WORD. I didn’t plan this coincidence (being asked to keep a confidence / mum’s the word) when I picked out my outfit and accessories, it just happened. In psycho-spiritual speak, it was a synchronicity, an divinely orchestrated opportunity for me to really think about the quality of my relationships, what they’re built on (trust), and how I can work to maintain them (as Elaine on Seinfeld would say, lock box).

My therapist says “mum’s the word” is almost always a good idea in relationships–and not just with respect to keeping secrets. For example, my friends and I used to process a lot together, use each other as therapists. There’s nothing inherently wrong with doing this, but things can get pretty heavy pretty quick. This is why my therapist suggests zipping my lips or not processing so much with others. “Friends are for fun,” she says. “If it’s something deep and heavy, something you’d put on the THE LIST, talk to me about it. Aren’t you paying me to listen?” These are things I continue to work on–what to talk about, what not to talk about, how to navigate relationships. And whereas I don’t always get it right–with friends or with razor blades–I’m learning.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Better that you're true to yourself and the whole world be disappointed than to change who you are and the whole world be satisfied.

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On Intuition and Connection (Blog #961)

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Something I’ve been thinking about today is the idea that intuition is fast, whereas our reasoning minds are slow. As a small (insignificant?) example, this afternoon I was getting dressed for the wedding of some dance students, and I quickly thought, I should wear my dark blue dress shirt. But then I slowly thought, I should wear my light blue dress shirt because it’s newer, sharper, hipper. This is what our minds do–they reason. Anyway, I put on the newer blue shirt only to discover that it didn’t complement the tie I wanted to wear, this floral print number that used to belong to my grandfather. So after ten minutes of wasted time, I put on the older, darker blue shirt, and it matched the tie perfectly.

Caroline Myss says that we are all divinely and angelically guided more than we could ever realize, down to the outfits that we pick out and put on each day. Like, maybe you get the hunch to wear red one morning, and then later that day someone who loves red notices you and strikes up a conversation that changes your life. Or just encourages you in some way. More and more, I’m learning to trust these intuitive hunches. Tonight after the wedding I went to a birthday party and saw a former dance student, someone who used to work with my grandfather. I said, “This tie used to belong to my grandpa,” and he pulled out a pocketknife and said, “Every time I sharpen this, I think of your grandpa because he’s the one who taught me how to sharpen knives.” Y’all, my grandpa has been dead for ten years, but–in that moment–he was alive.

Who’s to say if this would have happened had I’d been wearing another shirt, another tie?

Both the wedding and the birthday party tonight really were beautiful. I wish I had the time and energy to tell you all about them. Alas, it’s one-thirty in the morning and I’m plumb tuckered out. Still, I’d be doing us both a disservice if I didn’t tell you about something that happened at the wedding, something that involved my intuition but that also involved another topic I’ve been talking about lately.

Love.

It was after the outdoor ceremony, and everyone was inside for the reception, and I kept noticing this older, white-haired woman. Y’all, she was absolutely striking. (True beauty is ageless.) She’s a sophisticated gypsy, I thought. Anyway, I don’t know why, but I couldn’t get her off my mind. The meal came and went, the couple cut the cake, and the couple (whom I taught to dance) danced, but I kept coming back to this lady. So finally while everyone else was doing the Cupid Shuffle, I just went over, pulled up a chair, and introduced myself. “I don’t know who you are,” I said, “but you have a very beautiful spirit about you.”

Well, this darling stranger took my hand and said, “I’m deaf. I have a very beautiful what?” So I looked her in the eyes and repeated myself. “You have a very beautiful spirit about you.” Then she thanked me for coming over, and we just sat there for a moment holding hands, me and this person I’d never met before. And not that it was this hugely profound moment, but it sort of was. Because not only did it remind me that my intuition will never lead me wrong (it helps me pick out ties, it helps me pick out people to dote on), but it also reminded me that our hearts are always willing and able to connect. You don’t even have to know someone in order to love them. You can just pick up their hand and say, “You’re gorgeous.” Granted, two minutes later you might walk away and never them again, but at least you were right there, right then together. At least you were being real. At least you were being honest.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some things simply take time and often more than one trip to the hardware store.

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Not Just on the Roof (Blog #916)

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I took the above photo several years ago from the window of my old dance studio. (Facebook reminded me about it today.) Back then I was on the second story of a cool building in Historic Downtown Van Buren. Sometimes after everyone else left I’d sit in the window or crawl out on the roof and watch traffic go by and stare at unaware pedestrians, maybe while listening to Jamie Cullum or smoking a cigarette. Especially on evenings when the sun was setting and the sky was a Crayon box of colors, it was like my little piece of heaven. I don’t miss many things about the studio now, but I miss that spot and the feeling I had sitting there. As The Drifters so accurately said, “On the roof, it’s peaceful as can be.”

Last night I went to bed sick with sinus junk. And whereas I was hoping my probiotics would heal me during the night, they didn’t do crap, which means I woke up with more (really colorful) junk this morning. This was frustrating, but not completely disheartening. I have, after all, been down this road dozens and dozens of times before, and my body always eventually finds its balance. A word that’s been popping up in my experience the last twenty-four hours is harmony, the idea of everything working together in unison. This is what I’m hoping for–harmony in my sinuses, harmony in my body. It’s what I’m praying for. It’s what I’m working toward.

Despite my having a head full of phlegm, today has been lovely. I saw my therapist this morning, ate a tasty salad for lunch, then spent the afternoon at a coffee shop, reading, learning. Then I ran all over town in search of MORE probiotics to hopefully help my sinuses. This mission was only mildly successful–I found one new thing to try–but that’s okay. I enjoy the hunt, the trial and error. Do I enjoy hacking and coughing in the meantime? Hell no. But I have noticed the last few months that being sick carries less of a “charge” for me than it used to. What I mean is that I used to really freak out, worry, and stress every time I got sick. I’d think that God was punishing me, that if I were only a better or smarter person I wouldn’t be sick in the first place. Now most of that guilt and fear is gone. I still get sick, I just don’t beat myself up about it like I did before. Plus, I have more hope. Over a year ago I had a sinus infection that lasted three months. It was hell, but I made it. So I know whatever happens from here on out, I’ll make that too.

One of the things my therapist and I discussed today was abundance, which is something she deep-down believes in and something I think sounds good if you say it fast. That being said, I’m coming around to the idea. Anyway, she’s recently been sick also, and she said that when you’re an independent operator (who gets paid by the hour) and get sick and can’t work, it’s easy to question the notion that you’re always supported by God or the universe. “But we are,” she said. “We always have more than we need.”

“I have more snot than I need,” I said.

I told my therapist that recently I’ve had some strong emotional reactions to things. For example, I got immediately angry when someone sent me a text message. I got squirmy when someone else asked me to do a certain odd job. And whereas I knew that my emotions were information from my intuitive system saying respectively, “Stand up for yourself,” and, “Run, Will Robinson,” my therapist suggested thinking of my emotional reactions as “tells.” Like, in the future when I become immediately angry or squirmy, I’ll know it’s my gut’s way of communicating, “Look alive, kid.” She said she has her tells for knowing when a potential client won’t work out and always regrets it when she goes against her inner guidance.

I realize I’m jumping around here, but this is how my therapy sessions work. Shit happens in between visits, and I make a note about it. Then when I finally see my therapist, I hop from note to note. One minute we’re talking about comedians on Netflix (we both have a thing for stand-up), the next minute we’re talking about a confrontation I’ve had or need to have, and the next minute we’re talking about relationships. Today she said, “Relationships aren’t for punks.” This came up because I’ve had a number of friendships fizzle out over the last several years and sometimes still feel gross about it. I think, Who was right and who was wrong? Am I being stubborn? Am I holding a grudge? But as my therapist explained, “Relationships are real messy. Both parties have to be adults. They have to be willing to own their shit and apologize when necessary.”

It’s easy to romanticize the past, to look back at photos and think, Those were the good old days. Bitch, please. There’s no such thing. Sure, there might have been something in your past that you enjoyed and wish you could experience again, but–I swear–it wouldn’t be the same even if you could. Additionally, we forget that life–our past, present, and future–is always a mixed bag. I miss sitting on the roof at my old dance studio. I miss that peaceful feeling. However, I don’t miss the drama of owning the studio or my lack of self-awareness at the time. Back then I had a great view of downtown, but a piss-poor view of myself and my relationships. Largely thanks to therapy and this blog, now my perspective has shifted dramatically for the better. Doing The Hard Work has made all the difference. Now I can get that peaceful feeling anywhere–because it’s inside me. Not just on the roof.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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For all of the things life takes away, it gives so much more in return. Whether we realize it or not, there’s always grace available.

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On Intuition, Seeing Clearly, and Being Responsible (Blog #754)

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This afternoon I saw my therapist and told her about my recent run-in with a guy who aggressively asked me, “What do YOU do for a living?” Her jaw dropped. She also said I handled it well. (I told him I was a dance instructor and that, yes, you COULD earn a living being one.) She also said that more and more I’d know in the moment, like I did then, when someone was being aggressive, passive aggressive, or otherwise shitty.

This is one of the by-products of doing The Hard Work and learning to see yourself more clearly–you learn to see others more clearly. What I mean is that several years ago it probably wouldn’t have even occurred to me that this fella was sizing me up and not simply asking a benign question. Maybe a couple years ago I would have figured it out a few days later. Like, Wait a damn minute, that wasn’t very nice. But the other day, I knew instantly.

That’s how fast your intuition works if you let it.

The part I’m still working on is how to respond–in the moment–when someone crosses a boundary. After all, I’ve had a lot of practice at playing aloof or being Mr. Nice Guy. And whereas I knew with Mr. Slick (as I called him in therapy today) what path I wanted to take (subtle assertiveness versus all-out war), I don’t always know what to do when it happens with people I’m familiar with. For example, months ago someone I care about was being passive aggressive with me, and it really caught me off guard. Not that this person hadn’t done it before, but I hadn’t SEEN IT before. I had my blinders on. To put it bluntly, I’d been lying to myself. We all do this–because once you acknowledge the truth, you’re responsible for what you do with it.

This is the part that sucks.

In the above case, I ended up calling the person out for being passive aggressive. This is something I’ve had to do more times than I can count in the last five years, since starting therapy. Not that I take every opportunity to do so (because I truly don’t love it), but I’ve seen the results of not acknowledging and acting on my truth (the results are always a shit-show), and I’m not willing to do that anymore. Again, I don’t attend every fight I’m invited to, but I’ve learned that I and I alone am responsible for the quality of the relationships in my life. As the saying goes, “We teach people how to treat us.”

Today I told my therapist that I think of her as a ninja. That is, at least in my mind, she doesn’t take any crap from anybody and she’s always lightening-fast at both assessing situations and responding to them. Her motto is “if you stay ready, you don’t have to get ready.” But today she told me (and she’s said it before) that plenty of things catch her off guard. “Life is always going to up the ante to keep you on your toes,” she said. Likewise, she said she lets plenty of “bad behavior” slide either in the interest of keeping the peace or “I’m just not ready to deal with it.” “Sometimes it’s enough to SEE CLEARLY what’s going on, even if you don’t do anything about it,” she said.

When she does confront, she says she matches the energy coming at her. If they’re subtle, she’s subtle. If they’re full-on, she’s full-on. To this point, I think it’s worthwhile to say something about the attitude in which you confront a person should you choose to do so. That is, I’ve learned that you can have a confrontation without cutting someone off at the knee caps. You can say, “This is a problem for me” without calling them a low-life bastard. This afternoon I listened to an interview with psychologist Robert Augustus Masters, and he said that ANGER is actually connected to your heart and can be expressed without being unkind. AGGRESSIVENESS, on the other hand, isn’t connected to your heart and often forgets the humanness of the other. That is, there’s no heart, no humanity, in aggressiveness. A (seemingly unrelated) book I read this afternoon juxtaposed ASSERTIVENESS and AGGRESSIVENESS, suggesting assertiveness as the kinder, more human-to-human option for confrontations.

But back to SEEING MORE CLEARLY. Maybe that sounds nice. I imagine we all want or pray for GUIDANCE in almost every area of our lives at one time or another. We think, What am I supposed to do? But this is the not-nice part about intuition. Again, we’re responsible for the information we’re given. If someone is mistreating you and all your alarm bells are going off and telling you to tell them, “Step back,” “Back up,” or “Up yours!” but you don’t, what makes you think your intuition (or gut or guidance) is going to talk to you when you really need it? If you asked your partner to take the trash out every week for a year and they didn’t do it, would you keep wasting your breath? No, you wouldn’t, and neither will you intuition. So if you want it to talk to you lightening-fast, you have to listen to it.

You have to take your trash out.

Being responsible for yourself is a full-time job and doesn’t pay very well.

Again, this sucks and is no fun. Because listening to yourself is–by definition–a lonely endeavor. Self-empowerment is not group-empowerment. Plus, seeing clearly means the end of your illusions, about yourself and others, about people you might like. Not that you don’t entertain or love the passive aggressive (or whatever) people in your life, but the dynamics shift when you start to call bullshit. Maybe for the worse, hopefully for the better. Enforcing boundaries is a crap shoot. (Life is like a box of chocolates.) The other person could rise to the occasion (like an adult), pitch a hissy fit, or do nothing. But you’re not responsible for what other people do or don’t do. You’re only responsible for yourself. This, of course, is a full-time job and doesn’t pay very well. At least in dollars. But it does pay in a greater sense of self-worth and value, more peace of mind, and richer, truer relationships with much less drama.

This is worth all the effort.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing is never a straight line.

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Listening to Your Gut (Blog #298)

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You know how sometimes people, especially southern people, will compliment you and insult you at the same time? Like, I just love that shirt you’re wearing! It completely covers up your muffin top. (Uh, thanks?) Well, I had something like this happen not too long ago. I ran into an acquaintance, and in the midst of catching up, they said something unkind about me. (I’m intentionally being vague.) It was said as a joke, and since we were in public, people nearby were laughing–hell, I was laughing. But as soon as it happened, I felt my solar plexus tighten up, the way it might if some guy in a van handed your toddler a lollipop or you were on the Titanic and felt ice-cold water rushing into your cabin. Like, Houston, we have a damn problem. The conversation quickly moved on and ended, but there was no denying what my gut–my physical body–was telling me. This person wasn’t joking–they were being a douchebag. Sure, they’d disguised their insult, but it was an insult still the same.

I walked away like, Thanks for this big wooden horse. Where did you say it came from again–Troy?

Today I had therapy and told my therapist about this situation, with more specifics than I’m including here. “Am I making something out of nothing?” I asked. “Am I just being sensitive?” My therapist said that no, I was reading things correctly. She said, “They weren’t even being a douchebag. Douchebags cut you off in traffic. They were being straight-up mean.” Then she said, “You may not have done anything about it in the moment or called them up later and gave them what-for, but it’s a really big deal that you instantly knew there was a problem and that your body is speaking to you like that.”

Honestly, I think we all know when something is “rotten in Denmark.” Caroline Myss says that our chakras, our energetic bodies, are always “scanning” our environment and giving us feedback. Like, You need to get out of here now, This job isn’t right for you, That guy can’t be trusted, or, Something’s wrong–call your mother. Most of these messages come through our third chakra (located at the solar plexus), a feedback loop which is alluded to in such statements as, “I can feel it in my gut,” and, “He makes me sick to my stomach.

Personally, I know that my gut has been talking me for a long time, but I also ignored it for a long time. Had the Trojan Horse deal happened five years ago, I would have thought about it for days and convinced myself they were just joking. I would have thought, They hugged me! As I understand it, a person’s relationship with their gut (or instinct or intuition) is like any relationship. It has to be nurtured. In other words, it’s not that your gut ever stops talking to you, but it only speaks loudly and clearly if you freaking listen it. This loudly and clearly part is what I’m currently focused on. I told my dad about this situation tonight, and he said, “Were you offended?” I said, “No, I wasn’t offended–I just KNEW I was being sold a pile of shit.”

The truth has to come first.

This quick-read, I think, is the result of all the work I’ve done in therapy and on this blog. As I see it, it’s the result of authenticity. The clearer you see what’s going on inside of you, the clearer you see what’s going on outside of you. It’s that simple. I’m not saying I’m the absolute-truth meter in all situations, but I am saying that the more I develop a rapport with the truth, the more it sets me free from everything unlike it, including “fake” relationships. This process isn’t always fun, and I don’t necessarily recommend it, but my therapist says the benefits “will serve you until you’re six feet under.” Plus, it beats inauthentic living and lying to yourself. I mean, whether it’s a run-in with a Trojan Horse, a bad relationship, or a miserable job, you can ultimately only do something about a problem when see it for what it actually is–a problem. And if anything is ever going to change for the better, the truth has to come first.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If anything is ever going to change for the better, the truth has to come first.

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Feeling Weak, Feeling Strong (Blog #284)

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Lately I’ve backslidden on my sleep schedule, staying up until almost sunrise and waking up in the afternoon. But because I’m getting up early (by anyone standards) tomorrow to run around, I set my alarm for before noon today. Like, maybe I can ease myself into this. Y’all, it’s awful. I’ve been ready to go back to bed all day. Now it’s five in the evening, and I’m working feverishly to finish the blog before I teach dance in an hour and a half. Since I’ve got to go to bed early tonight–I’ve just got to–this may be more of a sprint than a marathon. Some days all you can do is show up.

This afternoon I finished reading a book by Laura Day about intuition and how it relates to healing. It’s due back at the library tomorrow, and I’m finding that having a deadline is a good way for me to get things done. Anyway, the book mentioned something about feeling “comfortable and proud” in your body, so I’ve been chewing on those words, since they’re not the first adjectives I think of when describing how I feel in my skin, but I’d like them to be. I guess sometimes I feel that way, and I know I feel that way more than I used to. I’d just like to feel that way more often–comfortable and proud.

Hum.

Whenever I get a sinus infection, my go-to adjective for describing the way I feel is “weak.” All my energy is just up and gone. It feels hopeless, like all my vitality has been buried next to Jimmy Hoffa, never to be found again. Much to my non-amusement, “weak” has become a kind of joke in our family, a word we toss around whenever one of us feels bad–like, poor, poor, pitiful me.

As a healing exercise, the book I finished earlier suggested remembering a time when you felt strong, almost unable to contain yourself, absolutely powerful. This isn’t exactly easy to do when you feel like someone’s unplugged you from the wall, but I assume that’s exactly the point, to reconnect with the best possible version of yourself. More than anything else, the exercise made me realize that weak isn’t simply a word I use to describe myself when I get sick. I mean, I don’t put it on my business cards or even think that word on a day-to-day basis, but I often feel that way, like I’m unable to affect change in my life, unable to move forward, unable to heal.

Just bringing my attention to this fact has made me realize that it’s not true. Like, I can look at my life and list dozens of places and situations in which I’m able to get things done, make progress, be effective. And yet still that feeling is there. I guess I get hung up on the things that aren’t happening yet, the things that aren’t healing. I start comparing myself, giving all the praise I have away to others and saving little for myself. This is something I intend to work on, gently if possible. I just looked up “weak” on Google, and whereas the first definitions is “lacking physical strength and energy,” the second is “easily damaged.” Synonyms are frail, feeble, delicate, fragile. This is good information to have, since I don’t feel THAT way at all. Even when my energy is low and things aren’t happening as I’d like them to, I don’t feel that kind of weak. Rather, I know there’s a part of me that’s eternally strong. That’s the part of me I want to spend more time with, the part that’s not only confident, but also comfortable and proud, simply happy to be alive, sure that it can weather any storm.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Stop buying your own bullshit.

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