On Stumbling Blocks and Stepping Stones (Blog #950)

After forty hours of fasting, this morning I weighed. The verdict: I lost 2.6 pounds in 24 hours. That’s a total of 13.6 pounds in the last seven weeks and brings me to a weight I haven’t seen in almost two years. Well, except for that time I got the flu twice in one season. But seriously tho, the last time I got down to this weight I decided I could live without losing any more, that weighing what I did in college was enough. And not that I’m deciding it’s enough forever–because my goal isn’t to reach a certain number, but rather to eat well and exercise and see what happens–but I am deciding it’s enough for this moment.

So this evening I ate cornbread.

Tonight’s blog is #950 in a row, and for whatever reason it feels like a big deal. I guess because I remember how proud I felt when I reached #50, and this is 900 more, 900 more days of–life. (I made it.) Somewhere along the way, I do feel like something shifted. I still have bad days, of course, and all the emotions. My outer circumstances haven’t changed all that much, although I guess I have lost weight and made headway with certain physical challenges like sinus infections. And whereas other inner and outer challenges remain, the last 950 days have taught me that I can handle whatever comes my way. Even if it’s not pretty.

Especially if it’s not pretty.

Bring it on, world.

I take that back. I’m probably IN my current predicaments because I’ve said, “Bring it on, world” before. Not that it works that way. If you’re here on the planet, you’re going to face inner and outer challenges because it’s how we grow and evolve. Suffering strongly encourages us to change, to transform.

I hate this as much as you do.

This evening I’ve been irritated about a business matter, which may nor may not turn out to be a big deal. Anyway, I’ve spent the entire night doing things to distract myself from thinking about it–folding laundry, downloading music files (as if I don’t have plenty to listen to already), eating cornbread. Of course, this hasn’t worked, and I’m still stuck with my feelings. The good news is that 1) recently my therapist told me she thought I was better at feeling my feelings than I give myself credit for and 2) I’ve come to understand that even uncomfortable feelings provide us with information. For example, my therapist says when she makes important business or personal decisions, she wants her heart to feel light as a feather. If it doesn’t? Then the decision’s not right. In this sense, I know that if I have feelings I want to run away from, they’re likely simply telling me that something is “off.”

Seen from this perspective, our icky feelings are our allies, in that they alert us to things we NEED to think about even if we don’t want to. For example, time and time again during the past two plus years I’ve started the day with a gross emotion and–thanks to this blog and its ability to help me process–come to a better understanding of myself, others, and the world around me. When I think about the last 950 days, the current matter that’s bothering me seems like less of a problem–not only because I’m reminded of more difficult situations that worked out just fine, but also because I’m reminded that each difficult situation offers us a pearl of wisdom if we are willing to take it.

Along these lines, earlier tonight I read a pamphlet about forgiveness that I picked up at my chiropractor’s office, and one of the points was “learn the lesson.” The point being that forgiving someone or getting past a situation is easier if you can allow it to help you grow. I’ve often said that my ex was real pill but that he was largely instrumental in getting me to therapy (thanks to his ridiculous behavior, not his encouraging words). And therapy’s changed my life. This doesn’t mean anything he did or didn’t do was right and good, of course, but it does mean he provided me an opportunity to grow.

The important part: I took it.

In my experience, few of us SEEK opportunities to grow. Like, who wakes up in the morning and says, “You know, I’ve got a free weekend coming up and think I’d like to turn my world upside and completely change my beliefs about myself, others, God, and the universe”? No, most of us have to be “offered” opportunities to grow, largely where we don’t want them. For example, I would have preferred my ex to be “the one,” to be someone he, quite frankly, was not, rather than the catalyst for my transformation. Earlier this summer a client tried to pull a fast one and get me to do twice the work I’d agreed to but for the same amount, and I would have preferred for them to be integrous, rather than my chance to speak up. My point being that we don’t get to decide how someone else behaves. We only get to decide how we respond, whether we’ll use a challenging situation to become bitter or better.

A popular concept in new age and self-help literature is that the world is an illusion. I’ve come to believe that this doesn’t mean your dining room table or headache isn’t real, although the argument certainly can be made that these things aren’t as solid as we once believed they were. Everything’s made of vibrating atoms and so on. Rather, the idea of something being an illusion is just this–that things aren’t what they seem. Something else is afoot here, Mr. Watson. Using my previous examples, what I mean is that the situation with my ex wasn’t about love or hate or any of his piss-poor behavior. Although I could have made it this, it wasn’t about me being right and him being wrong for all eternity. Likewise, everything I’ve ever been upset or worried about over the last 950 days hasn’t been about those specific things. Instead, it’s been about how I responded to them, whether or not my soul grew or shrank.

This is a mystical perspective, of course, but it’s the one that will ultimately bring you the most peace. Your diet isn’t about how much you weigh; it’s about whether or not you’re being kind to yourself. Are you losing weight as a form of self-punishment or self-love? This is the illusion part. Either way you’re on a diet, but your motivation determines whether or not you’ll be content with your results. If you’re beating yourself up, nothing will ever be good enough. If you’re loving yourself, whatever happens will be okay. In terms of your challenges, do you see them as stumbling blocks or stepping stones? Either way you’re looking at a rock. It’s just a matter of whether the rock uses you, or you use the rock.

My suggestion: use the rock.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No good story ever ends.

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A Chair to Sit in (Blog #868)

It’s nearly two in the morning, and I’m having a tough time focusing. Today has been a busy day, and I guess I’m having trouble winding down. This morning I finished a room I started painting a few days ago, then came home, ate a sandwich, and took a shower. Then I headed to Fort Smith for a meeting, a meeting that got postponed while I was on my way to it. And whereas this normally would have bothered me, it didn’t. For whatever reason, I’ve been in a fabulous mood all day and have been impervious to irritation. This is extremely ironic, since yesterday I was covered from head to toe in frustration.

Sometimes life throws you a bone.

After I had my estate sale a few years, the only piece of furniture I owned was a small bookshelf. Then last summer when my aunt had a yard sale, I doubled my furniture collection–by adding an old leather ottoman. And whereas I was set on only acquiring new things (because I was in the middle of starting a new life), I fell in love with this ottoman because it belonged to my grandparents. It even has one of grandpa’s famous cigarette burns on it. Anyway, for the last year the ottoman has simply sat in my room in front of my window. Mostly, it’s given me a place to tie me shoes.

So get this shit. Today on a whim I went to an antique store and found a lovely leather chair that matches my ottoman–for the bargain price of $24. Talk about a steal. So I bought it.

Then I bought a pillow to go with the chair.

Because when you’re my age you’ve got to think about lower lumbar support.

I can’t tell you how excited I am about having this chair. Now I can read in my own room sitting up instead of lying down. I can listen to music while sipping tea. I can have company (not everybody at once!) and offer them a place to sit instead of insisting they share my twin bed.

Boy was that getting awkward.

Now it’s three in the morning, and I keep getting distracted by other things. Plus, I’m tired. So although I hate to be abrupt, I’m going to wrap this up. Last night I mentioned that at the end of a rough day (yesterday) I got excited about a new creative idea. This idea, I’m sure, has much to do with my good mood today. This fascinates me, the idea that one’s mood can turn around just like that by thinking about something that excites you, something that gets your creative juices flowing.

And all the better if you have a chair to sit in where you can think about these things.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same.

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Enough (Blog #867)

Yesterday I blogged about feeling generally irritated and frustrated by my situation in life, and today I talked to my therapist about my feelings. “Let’s just call it like it is,” she said. “You’re fucking pissed.”

“Okay, I’m pissed,” I said.

“That’s all right,” she said. “Be pissed.”

“OKAY, I’M PISSED!” I said.

So now that that’s established.

My therapist asked if I’d ever blogged about just how frustrating it is for me to be 1) living with my parents and 2) trying to “make it” as a writer or a creative. Like, what’s it like to be a starving artist? (Well, you go hungry a lot.) And whereas I told her that I have blogged about these frustrations a number of times, I also said maybe I needed to give it another shot. So here I go.

It’s frustrating as hell. (How’d I do?)

Okay, fine, I’ll dig deeper. Today my therapist said she thought part of me wanted life to wave a magic wand and make my dreams come true. Well, yeah, of course I want that. Who wouldn’t? At the same time, I know it’s not realistic–for each goal a person has, there’s work to be done. For me, it’s not that I’m afraid of the work. It’s that I’m often paralyzed by what step to take next. With a hundred creative ideas in my head, I’m not always sure which one to pursue. Also, I’m scared that whatever I do pick won’t be THE ONE. In short, I’m scared to fail. Of course, as my therapist said, “What do you have to lose?”

“At this point,” I said, “Really nothing.”

My pride, you say?

Honey, I lost that a long time ago.

Getting back to what’s frustrating for me, sure, part of it is that my life doesn’t look like what I want it to right now. However, a good deal of my frustration is due to what I’ve done internally with the facts of me life. That is, I’ve blamed myself for my situation. Like I have this dream and have taken steps toward it, but the steps I’ve taken OBVIOUSLY aren’t enough. So that means I’m not enough. I’m a failure. This is where the frustration really lies, the feeling that I’ve done my best and it–clearly–isn’t sufficient.

This thinking, of course, is recipe for misery. Normally therapy puts me in a good mood, but I spent this afternoon in a pretty significant funk. I did a lot of–what’s the word?–wallowing. Not that I donned sackcloth or anything. I actually donned painting clothes and continued painting the room I started yesterday. I listened to several podcasts. In short, I was productive. At the same time, however, I gave myself a good deal of grief. For not having my act together. For not being “a success.”

Thankfully, this evening while I was taking a shower, the weight of the world fell off my shoulders. I remembered that my therapist said that as many as one-in-four people (Google says one-in-five) live in multi-generational households. “There are a lot of people like you,” she said. Then I started thinking about some steps I could take to reach my goals–and actually got excited about them. My therapist said, “Do you ever talk about how irritating writing is?” I said, “It’s not writing itself that’s irritating. It’s that it’s not paying the bills.” This is the thing about creative projects. Inherently, there’s joy in thinking about them, doing them. But you can suck the joy right out of them when you put pressure on those projects to put food on the table.

In the moments when I’m most clear, I’m proud of myself for listening to my soul several years ago, closing my dance studio, and beginning to work on a new life. I’m proud of this blog, regardless of who does or doesn’t read it, regardless of whether or not it ever makes me a dime. I get hung up on success as the world sees it, but the truth is I already consider myself a success when it comes to what really matters to me–what’s on the inside, not what’s on the outside. Do I want the outside to follow the inside? Sure. It would make a lot of things easier. But until that happens, I’m working on being okay right here, right now–irritated, frustrated, pissed off, or joyful. I’m enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There's a wisdom underneath everything that moves us and even the planets at its own infallible pace. We forget that we too are like the planets, part of a larger universe that is always proceeding one step at time, never in the wrong place, everything always right where it belongs.

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Each Step is Necessary (Blog #866)

This morning I finished painting a room I started painting a couple weeks ago before The Great Upset Stomach Incident of 2019. Well, I technically didn’t paint it today. Rather, I scraped paint off the windows then cleaned up the mess I made on the floor. Then I put the light switch and electrical outlet covers back on. This is all part of the process when painting a room–the details. With respect to this particular project, twenty percent of my total time was spent either getting the room ready to paint or putting it back together after having painted it.

After finishing that room, I started on another. This room was smaller than the first, but it still took over an hour to tape off the carpet around the baseboards, scrape off some old paint that was peeling inside the closet, and get the drop cloth down. Once things were prepped and ready to go, I was ready to go. That is, I took a break so I could see my chiropractor and grab lunch. Later, I came back and got one full coat of paint applied to that room. Ugh. I’d wanted to finish the whole thing tonight, but things always take longer than you want them to.

This is what tomorrow’s for.

Several days ago I figured out the rash on my arm is ringworm, a fungus. I can’t tell you how grossed out I’ve been about it. Anyway, I’ve been putting anti-fungal cream on it and, honestly, probably overdoing it. Still, although I have to admit it’s colorful to look at, I want the damn thing gone. Well, after three days of applying the cream, I couldn’t tell a difference. I thought, Maybe I’m doing something wrong. MAYBE IT’S CANCER! But then just like that, this morning, I noticed a significant positive change. Now it’s pink instead of red. There’s new skin forming. My point is that, first, if you just look at things as they are–a half-painted room, a fungus on your arm–you can’t always tell something good is happening. Second, if you’re not patient, you’ll probably get real frustrated and and think things are worse than they are.

There’s a famous tale that gets told a lot in spiritual circles. A wise man prayed that his teenage son would always be safe, and the next day his son fell off a horse and broke his leg. “How awful,” the villagers said, but the wise man stayed silent. Later when a war broke out and most the town’s youth were drafted to their ultimate demise, the wise man’s son was spared. How could he fight with a broken leg?

So often this happens in our own lives. We think something is awful, and it turns out to be good. Today my chiropractor and I talked about my current frustrations, the chief of which is that it often feels like I’m doing everything right and not getting the results I want (in my health, in my life). However, the truth is that I have a limited perspective. I look back on my life thus far and think, All of that was necessary preparation. So wouldn’t it make sense to think that what I’m living NOW–even with all its pains and frustrations–is also necessary preparation for what I will be living LATER?

Of course it would.

Each step is necessary.

My chiropractor’s suggestion was for me to see how much I could embrace. That is, often when things aren’t going how we want them to, we push against the universe. We go to work with a scowl on our face and curse and spit at every opportunity because we feel we’re being put upon by life. (Or is that just me?) But there is another option. Personally, I know I have it within me to ENJOY whatever it is I’m doing, whomever I’m around (well, almost). I can EMBRACE the moment–half-painted room, a fungus among us, this is my life right here, right now. I can recognize that everything is part of The Process. I can recognize that each step is necessary. I can recognize that all things are progressing, healing as they should.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rejecting yourself is what really hurts.

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