On Following Your Bliss (Blog #839)

Yesterday I spoke about the feeling of delight, and today has been delightful. Not that it’s been ALL that different from most of my days on the outside, but there’s been a certain quality about it that’s made it different on the inside.

I’ll do my best to explain.

This morning I made breakfast and got around slowly. Then a couple hours later I made a snack and took it outside to eat. Then because the sun felt so nice, I lay outside and read a book. And whereas I think I overdid it (my stomach is currently medium rare), it felt fabulous. Then a friend of mine asked me to help her install an air conditioning window unit, so I did that. I love a good project. Plus, another friend was there to help, and since they’d installed several window units before, I ended up learning something. I love learning.

Lately my therapist and I have been talking a lot about money. I’ve said before that I have a lot of gross feelings about money, largely due to the fact that I had to be responsible for my family’s finances as a teenager. And although it’s taken me, oh, twenty years to identify how I felt about that, I can now say that it was extremely overwhelming. Anyway, I’ve made a lot of progress in this area. There are several areas in my life that I’m super neutral about. For example, my romantic life. I think, Whatever happens, happens. I don’t have time for bullshit. Well, my therapist says I can take this same attitude–laid back–and apply it to money. “Something ALWAYS comes along for you,” she says. “Chill out.”

Well, damn if she hasn’t been right (again). First there was that air conditioner work today, then I picked up a yard-mowing gig this evening. And not that I’m sitting pretty or anything, but everything helps. Plus, I’ve told the universe that I really am willing to work doing almost anything so long as it affords me the time to continue to do what I love–read and write. Apparently it’s listening. Things keep showing up–house sitting gigs, odd jobs, dance lessons–and I haven’t even advertised. Other than talking about my life and random jobs here on the blog, I haven’t tried to drum up business even once.

I keep going back to Joseph Campbell’s quote (that I’ve mentioned several times here before)–“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” This means that as we listen to our heart, we’re helped by “unseen hands.” (If you’re not listening to your heart, I don’t know what to tell you.) When we’ve talked about what writing project I want to tackle next, my therapist says, “Follow the energy–do the thing that excites you the most.”

I started to say, “Listen to you heart and do The Hard Work” because listening to your heart, as lovely as it sounds, is tough stuff. That is, rarely is anyone else going to encourage you to do what YOU want to do, since everyone else wants you to do what THEY want you to do. Think about it. It’s human nature. A while back I did some work, and my gut told me it was worth a certain price. Well, the client initially offered slightly less. What the big deal? you might say. But I knew that I’d feel like I’d compromised myself if I didn’t at least ask. So I did, and they said yes. This is a small example, but my point is that following your inner guidance isn’t just about becoming a writer, or whatever it is you want to do professionally. If you’re going to listen to your truth, you’ve got to listen to it across the board.

In all situations.

Not to beat a dead horse, but I can’t count the number of times in the last several years when following my bliss has looked like putting a friendship on hiatus, saying no to bad behavior from lovers or potential lovers, and even confronting my loved ones. Again, the idea here is that if you want the universe to start opening doors for you, you have to be willing to do your part, which may include shutting a few windows. At the very least, you have to be willing to walk a different path, and that means being able to say no when necessary. It means being willing to go against the grain and withstand criticism. I can’t tell you the number of times people have told me, “You should go to college. You’re gonna have to get a real job one day.”

“Fuck that shit,” my therapist say. “That’s their problem.”

Not that I’m advocating dumb or negligent behavior. Only you get to decide what’s best for you, and I can only speak to my specific life. All I know is that since I was in high school, it’s never felt deep-down right to “just get a degree” or be like everybody else. Rather, since then I’ve had a deep-down dream to be a writer and do things associated with writing. Some people may say this is a pie-in-the-sky idea, and I get it. It’s hard to make it as a writer. But more and more I KNOW. This is what I came here to do. If I have to do random odd jobs until it “happens,” so be it.

I’m willing to pay the price.

What’s more, I know that my day-to-day happiness doesn’t depend on what’s happening out there.

It depends on what’s happening in here.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We’re all made of the same stuff.

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I Meant to Do That! (Blog #837)

Photo by Virgilia Dale. Thanks, V!

This morning I saw my therapist and read her yesterday’s blog, about childhood memories. I don’t do this very often, maybe once every couple months, if I’d like her opinion on something or it seems relevant. For example, on our last therapy-iversary, I read her my post about why me and my therapist are successful. It was my way of saying, “Thank you.” (I also brought cookies.) Anyway, I read last night’s blog because, as I told her, “I cried when I wrote it and am hoping I can cry again.”

“Go for it,” she said. “Get the poison out of your water.”

Then she added, “I like how you’ve been crying more lately.”

Well, sure enough, it worked. I cried more when I read the post to her than when I wrote the damn thing. I guess there’s something about my therapist’s presence. It’s like I know I can say anything, be completely me in the moment, and that’s going to be okay. Never once in five years have I felt judged. Not that I’ve always been agreed with–far from it–but I’ve never felt judged. Instead, no matter if I’ve been angry, sad, depressed, irate, confused, lethargic, disappointed, hurt, or horny–I’ve felt totally accepted. And I guess that’s been one of the big gifts this blog has given me too–acceptance.

Self-acceptance.

I imagine this is why certain posts make me cry. Like last night’s, they’re usually the ones that have something to do with my childhood. The way I see it, I probably needed to cry (and yell and scream) back then but just didn’t know how. Consequently, it’s like some part of me got asked to sit down and shut up indefinitely. But here’s the thing about writing if you do it correctly–you bring your whole self to it. This means that when you’re being creative all the parts of yourself that have previously been silenced can potentially speak up. They may cry and they may to tell people to fuck off. If you’re smart, you’ll listen. This is what self-acceptance is–not letting every part of you run the show, but letting every part of you be heard.

The above picture of me at a lemonade stand showed up in my Facebook memories today. For a while my dance studio was in the same building as a photographer, and the lemonade stand was one of her props. Anyway, this picture always makes me think of that overused saying–when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Along these lines, there’s this quote from Joseph Campbell–“To transform you hell into a paradise is to turn your fall into a voluntary act. Joyfully participate in the sorrows of the world and everything changes.” To me this means not so much that you make the best of a bad situation, but that on some level you actually choose the bad situation.

I’ll explain.

There’s an idea in the self-help world that you’re happy not when you have what you want, but rather when you want what you have. Think about it. We usually associate wanting with things we don’t have, but if you were to–in this moment–look at everything in your life and say, “I want this,” you’d immediately experience a sense of contentment. For me this would look like saying, “I want to weigh 190 (ish) pounds. I want to be single. I want to be living at home with my parents and experiencing a headache.”

Good news! I am.

Applied to one’s past, all of this means that rather than labeling your difficult circumstances as bullshit or something that never should have happened, you look at them and say, “That was exactly what I needed.” This is what Campbell means when he says, “Turn your fall into a voluntary act.” Children do this all the time. They trip on their shoelaces, hit the concrete, and scab their knees then immediately look at their friends and say, “I MEANT to do that!” In keeping with my previous discussion about last night’s blog about childhood memories and specifically the fact that my family’s home burned down when I was four, this means that yes, I cry or scream about it when I need to, but I refuse to let myself be bitter about the situation. Instead I think, That helped make me who I am today. And I like who I am today.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All things are moving as they should.

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On What Really Satisfies (Blog #804)

This morning, about four, before the sun even came up, the dog I’m sitting went absolutely bat-shit crazy barking at something outside the bedroom window. It was probably a skunk, but for all I know it could have been a robber. Sound asleep before the barking started, I was suddenly awakened and extremely startled. It was like one of those dreams when your teeth fall out or you pee on yourself. (What, don’t you have those?) Terrifying. Eventually, I fell back asleep. However, two hours later the dog was whining, ready to go for a walk. So off we went. When we returned, I went back to sleep (again). Until my alarm went off two hours later.

Because of my erratic sleep schedule this week, I haven’t felt fresh as a daisy today. Now it’s just before eleven at night, and I’m ready to pass out. Maybe I can finish this in under five hundred words. Hell, considering how tired I am, I’m not sure I can finish this paragraph.

I’m gonna try.

The day itself has been fabulous. I spent this morning with a friend whom I helped with a computer problem, and we laughed, laughed, laughed while sitting on their porch. The weather was gorgeous. Then I exercised. Then I visited with a friend at their soon-to-be-opened art gallery. Talk about inspirational–people who have a dream and make it happen. Anyway, then I put together a porch bench for some other friends, then I ate fajitas (I love fajitas), then I taught a dance lesson. Phew.

This morning I read a quote by (my man) Joseph Campbell that said, “The rules of love, they really are severe. If you’re giving up everything for something, then give up everything for something and stay with it with your mind on where you’re going.” To me this means that if you’re committed to an idea–becoming a (full-time, paid) writer, for example–fucking do it. Give up everything. Sell your shit, live with your parents, wake up at six to walk dogs, do whatever you’ve got to do to make your dreams come true. If you’re really in love with whatever it is you’re pursuing (and which in turn and in truth is probably pursuing you), go for it. Give it your best shot. Nothing else will satisfy.

I sometimes tell people that I believe being a writer is why I’ve been put on this earth. Sometimes I call it a dream, a goal, or a desire, but the truth is that–I think–it’s why I’m here. Once a family friend referred to my writing as “a hobby,” and I wanted to come out of my skin. Not that it’s my job to convince anyone else that this isn’t a hobby but rather my soul’s calling, but that’s really how strongly I feel about it. It’s why I often say that if I DON’T pursue this, I know I’ll get to the end of my life and have regret.

This is not acceptable.

After reading Campbell’s quote this morning, I started thinking about what the world has to offer. And whereas I certainly haven’t even scratched the surface of what there is to see and do on planet earth, it’s not like I’ve spent the last thirty-eight years sitting on a couch either. I’ve jumped out of planes, gone down zip lines, rafted rivers, sailed yachts on foreign seas, eaten some fabulous food, danced my ass off, made love, and enjoyed the company of friends and family. Well, guess what? Nothing is ever enough. I want more. And yet I know I could spend the next thirty-eight years pursuing and achieving everything in the outer world and still not be fully content. For if I’m not pursuing my inner world, what’s the outer world amount to?

Squat, that’s what.

Personally, I think the word purpose if overused. I also think the words passion and calling are overused, but I don’t know any other words to use instead. My point is that there’s got to be SOMETHING in your life that gives it some sort of definition and texture, something deep down that MOVES you, something you’re willing to give up everything for. To be clear, this can’t be an occupation, nor can it be another person. If you think your reason for being on this earth is a specific job, what will you do when you get fired from it? If you think your reason for being on this earth is another person, what will you do when they move away or die? No, there’s gotta be something within that animates you in such a way that the entire world could fall apart and you’d still be excited to get up and think about, get up and do. This a question only you can answer–What really satisfies my soul?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rest gives us time to dream. One day, for certain, you’ll wake up. And you’ll be grateful for the time you rested, and you’ll be just as grateful that you’re different, far from the person who fell asleep.

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One Day at a Time, Sweet Jesus (Blog #743)

This afternoon I worked on a puzzle that my sister and I started back in December. Alas, we didn’t get very far. We basically finished the border, the easy part. For months the puzzle has sat on our spare coffee table (that’s right, we have two coffee tables, suckahs!), and for months I’ve felt guilty about it. Another unfinished project. I guess it wasn’t time. But then today while I was listening to a podcast, it was. For over an hour I combed through hundreds of pieces and actually made some progress. Slowly but surely, a shape emerged.

Recently I heard a comedian–I can’t remember who–make fun of puzzles. He basically said, “They’re not that hard. They’re not even surprising. You’ve got a lid that SHOWS YOU how it’s supposed to turn out.” I thought about this today as I worked on my above-mentioned puzzle and periodically checked the lid to see where a piece went. No surprises here.

Earlier today I re-read more old blogs. Whenever I do this, I read ten at a time. I’m up to number 90 now. Part of me feels as if this project (both the blogging itself and the re-reading) is taking FOR-EV-ER, but obviously a lot can get done one day at a time, one (or ten) blogs at a time. This evening I went to the gym and spent thirty minutes on the elliptical, a machine I tolerate. And whereas it wasn’t “fun,” I made the time pass more quickly by thinking Just one more minute thirty times. My point–it helps to break things up into smaller pieces. You can seriously overwhelm yourself if you look at the big picture.

For over twenty years my dad and I have had this running joke about the song One Day at a Time, Sweet Jesus (that’s all I’m asking from you). It started when Dad was in prison. I guess he and his friends used to sing it on Sundays. You can see how a tune like that could resonate with inmates–or anyone going through a tough time. Like, I’m not asking you to help me get through this entire damn year, Lord, just today.

Of course, if you get through today every day for a year, you’ve gotten through a year. (God, Marcus, you really are profound sometimes.) But seriously, we complicate things. Once, when I asked my friend Chelsea how to dance fast Lindy Hop, she said, “Dance Lindy Hop faster.” No shit–I paid for that advice. Later, I realized how correct it was. If you have solid technique, you can dance at any speed. If you don’t have solid technique, you’ll notice problems at high speeds, but the truth is you’re doing something wrong at slower speeds too. Bad technique is bad technique. Anyway, my point is that the answers we’re looking for are simple. Maybe not easy, but simple. How do you blog every day for a year? You blog every day for a year. How do you put together a thousand-piece puzzle?

One piece at a time.

One difference between a puzzle and a creative project, however, is the lid. That is, with any creative project–writing or dancing, for example–you often don’t know where you’re going or have a picture of the end product. When I started dancing twenty years ago, no one showed me a video of what I’d personally look like if I put in 10,000 hours. Likewise, when I started this blog two years ago, I may have had the goal to write every day, but I didn’t know what the actual results would be or how it would change me. I didn’t have a lid. I still don’t. And yet, slowly but surely, a shape has emerged.

I think it’s safe to say that nobody knows where they are going (except to bed, maybe). Nobody has the lid for their life. This means anything can happen. Surprise! When I started therapy, I had no idea of how I’d change. I simply felt compelled to explore the path. Five years later, here I am, still exploring, still surprised by the results. Joseph Campbell said, “Not all who hesitate are lost. The psyche had many secrets in reserve. And these are not disclosed unless required.” I love this quote. To me it means that when you’re working on a creative project or even yourself, you really have no idea what’s possible. We tell ourselves, I can’t do that or That could never happen, but the truth is that we don’t know until we try, until we keep showing up one day at a time, Sweet Jesus.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"The truth is right in front of you."

Go Ahead, Say Hello (Blog #740)

Yesterday I learned the word whinge, which means to complain, grouse, or bitch in a peevish, childish manner, so this morning I told my therapist I’d be whinging a lot during our session. I’ll spare you my specific gripes, but she said, “Oh, I love whinging.”

“Well you’re in the right profession,” I said.

“No, I personally love whinging,” she clarified. “I don’t love it when other people do it.”

Still, she let me.

Don’t worry, she was compensated nicely for this.

Recently my therapist told me I was a good person, and I’ve been frustrated about that and told her so today. Not that I’m frustrated about her assessment, but like, so fucking what? Yeah, I’m a good person. Maybe not a saint–I don’t have wings–but I do my best–you know–up here on the high road. But it’s not like being a decent human being pays my bills or gets me laid on a regular basis. Or ever. And as I’ve said a number of times on this blog, being honest, vulnerable, and authentic is rarely a way to win friends (or influence people). Rather, it’s often a way to lose friends. This is why I’m constantly saying that I don’t recommend this path of personal growth (even though I really do)–because for all its rewards (and there are a few), it’s isolating and lonely. It is, after all, by definition, personal growth, NOT group growth. This is why Caroline Myss says that no one will ever celebrate YOUR personal empowerment. Because it means you don’t need them anymore. It means you’re doing something WITHOUT them.

In short, this entire setup sucks.

Whoever came up with this universe, I’d like to have a word.

Obviously, there are times I feel “this is bullshit” more than others, and lately I’ve simply been feeling it. These last few years have been challenging, and although I said yesterday that things are looking up, I’m tired–tired of feeling isolated, tired of being strong, tired of working on myself, and tired of always trying do the right thing. Fuck the right thing. “It fucking sucks,” my therapist said today. “I won’t patronize you and say it doesn’t. Honestly, it’s why I can be real shitty at times. Because no one can always, always, always take the high road.”

More and more, I think it’s important to acknowledge this. Almost everyone in psychology talks about our shadow, and the philosopher Alan Watts said we all contain a certain amount of “rascality.” The best people, it seems, acknowledge their shadow or inner rascal. Recently I had an absolute laugh-fest making fun of a total stranger. Was that a shitty thing to do? Sure. But did it feel good? You fucking bet it did. And, yes, I’m fine with the idea (or fact, I’m sure it’s a fact) that sometimes total strangers make fun of me. People laugh at each other. It’s a thing. Personally, I think it helps release steam that builds up because we so often guard our inner thoughts under the guise of being “appropriate.” Not that we don’t think naughty thoughts, we just don’t say them out loud. So the steam has to seep out somewhere.

As I understand it, a lot of healing and growth can happen when we fully acknowledge our shadows, when we say, “Yeah, I’m capable of the worst a human is capable of. Because I’m human.” Not that you have to encourage the dark side of yourself. Clearly, you don’t want it to take over. But, again as I understand it, it’s less likely to get out of control when you’re honest about the fact that it’s there. Our less-than-best only becomes a problem when it’s shoved down, ignored, and denied. Like, I would NEVER do THAT.

Yes you would.

In most mythologies and religions, there’s this idea of good and evil. The light and the dark. You and your shadow. And whereas some mythologies say one is better than the other, others say it all–simply is. And whereas I’m not here (in this particular post) to make a moral judgment about good and evil, I know that in my personal life I often label certain experiences and emotions good or bad. Like, I feel isolated and tired, and that sucks, so that’s bad. But it’s not. The truth is that anything I feel along THE PATH is simply part of the path. Just because it’s uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s something to run away from. Indeed, you can’t run away from your shadow because you’re attached to it.

That thought or feeling you think is unacceptable and have banished to the corner?

Uh–that’s part of you.

My therapist’s advice today was to lean into my emotions, to let myself feel tired, frustrated, worn out, and exhausted. This seems to be a theme lately, this idea of FEELING my feelings. (Blah. What the hell?) My therapist says they go away faster when you do, even though everyone’s natural inclination is to–I don’t know–reach for the bottle or a slice of chocolate cake. Or the whole cake. (A whole cake would be nice right about now.)

Joseph Campbell said, “The Fates lead him who will; him who won’t, they drag.” To me this means that one way or another, you’re doing to meet your shadow. Sooner or later, we all have to face and feel every uncomfortable thing inside us. Because that’s you in there. That’s one of your parts. And if you think being isolated from someone else is lonely, try being isolated from yourself. So go ahead, say hello. You might as well meet yourself willingly.

Of course, feel free to whinge about it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Growth and getting far in life have nothing to do with where you’re physically standing.

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Another Pair of Eyes (Blog #689)

Each night for the last week I’ve been watching the Netflix series Russian Doll. It’s fascinating (and I haven’t finished yet, so don’t tell me how it ends). Anyway, there was a great line in last night’s episode (season one, episode six). Then this morning while scrolling through my Facebook memories, I unearthed three lovely quotes that I shared long before this blog started. Therefore, I’ve decided today’s musings shall be quote-inspired (and there’s nothing you can do about it). So without further ado–

1. From Russian Doll

Okay, here’s the set up. The main character, Nadia, and her friend Alan are visiting Nadia’s mentor, Ruth, a therapist, and Nadia is trying to get Alan to see Ruth professionally. However, Alan is terrified of therapists; they’re his biggest fear. Something is said about how Nadia’s mother once destroyed all the mirrors in their house, and Alan says, “Why?” Ruth says, “Reflection, proof of existence, another pair of eyes. That’s why therapists are important. Without them, we are very unreliable narrators of our own stories.”

We are very unreliable narrators of our own stories. Amen. So many times I’ve thought that I was doing poorly, and my therapist has reminded me that from almost anyone else’s perspective, I wasn’t. Likewise, so many times I’ve explained away another’s poor behavior, and my therapist has been there to remind me about my personal worth and how to have and enforce good boundaries. Another pair of eyes. Sure, I have friends who do this–provide a different perspective–but I’ve found it invaluable to have a less partial perspective, one that comes from someone who doesn’t approach me or my relationships with a bias or stake in the game.

2. From Eckhart Tolle

Here’s a quote I shared in 2012, from Tolle’s A New Earth. I guess technically it’s two quotes put together. Anyway–“Whenever tragic loss occurs, you either resist or you yield. … If the shutters are closed, the sunlight cannot come in.” I love this, the quote, not the actual practice of surrendering or yielding when something terrible happens. Letting go and admitting I’m not in control is one of the hardest things I ever try to do. I’d much rather dig my heels in, try to fix things. But some things aren’t fixable. In terms of the part about the closed shutters, the picture I get is of someone with their eyes squeezed tight, so afraid of terrible things that they’re unwilling to take another look at the world around them. But what if we opened our eyes, opened our hearts to another perspective? Maybe there’s some good here.

3. From Albert Einstein

This quote is one I shared in 2010 and says, “The most important decision we ever make is whether we believe we live in a friendly universe or a hostile universe.” Wow, talk about the importance of perspective. Personally, I believe we live in a friendly universe. However, I’m the first to admit that I often act as if I believe we live in a hostile universe. That is, whenever I’m sick or broke or something terrible happens, I take it as a personal affront, a hostile attack. And yet so many times the terrible things in my life have turned out to be the most helpful things, the things that taught me and grew me the most, the things that put me in touch with my own good heart. So even when I’m frustrated because it feels like somebody up there has put a “kick me” sign on my back, I try to remember, This is a friendly universe. That means even if I can’t see it yet, there has to be some good here somewhere.

4. From my man Joseph Campbell

This last quote is one I shared in 2013. (JC and I go way back.) It says, “I always feel uncomfortable when people speak about ordinary mortals because I’ve never met an ordinary man, woman, or child.” How perfect is that? This quote reminds me, again, to shift my perspective, to remember that all of us are truly wonders, capable of great love and far-reaching deeds. Granted, society beats this out of us. We beat this out of each other. We tell each other and ourselves that we’re lacking, real pieces of shit, worms. But maybe there’s some good here. Maybe there’s a lot of good here. Maybe we should take a look at ourselves with another pair of eyes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Whereas I've always pictured patience as a sweet, smiling, long-haired lady in a white dress, I'm coming to see her as a frumpy, worn-out old broad with three chins. You know--sturdy--someone who's been through the ringer and lived to tell about it.

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The World Has It Backwards (Blog #674)

This afternoon I met my longtime friend Kara for coffee (well, hot tea ’cause we fancy), and we laughed and laughed. Then as the conversation evolved, we dove deep. Kara said, “You’ve obviously chosen to live your life differently. What’s the end goal?” So I talked about my dreams of being a full-time (paid) writer and how I see this period in my life, living with my parents, not working a nine to five, as an investment. “It’s a gamble,” I said, “a bet that if you listen to your gut and follow your heart that things will work out. Of course, I’m not on the other side of that bet, so it’s still just a theory for me.”

I’ve been rolling this conversation around in my head ever since Kara and I said goodbye. Mostly I’ve been thinking about the fact that for every apparent downside to my living with my parents and not having a regular job, there have been just as many upsides. For example, these last two years have given me time to heal both inside and outside. Second, they’ve given me time to study a number of subjects that interest me and I imagine will play a big part in my future. Third, I’ve gotten a ton done with my therapist, work that wouldn’t have happened if I’d 1) had a full-time job or 2) been in a full-time relationship.

This evening I did some body-based exercises intended to highlight the differences between shutting down and opening up (in terms of posture and emotion). Then I worked on my current knitting project–a pot holder–and messed up a couple spots when I went from knitting to purling or vice versa. (Knitting and purling are the two basic stitches in knitting.) Thankfully, I figured out how to fix everything and also how to keep it the problem from happening again. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about contrast, that it’s often useful to know (and feel) the wrong way to stand or knit because then you can better understand the right way. Said differently, when you know what you don’t want, you know what you do want.

Along these lines, I can find gratitude for past failed relationships and even my health challenges, since they’ve created a strong desire for health in all areas of my life. Not that I didn’t want to be healthy before, but having experienced the opposite of health quite vividly a number of times in the past, I know better what I’d like my life and health to look and feel like in the future. Now I have a clearly picture of what it is I’m aiming for–er, I’m betting–where it is I’m going. And to be clear, I hate that, that sometimes you have to go down before you can go up.

In one of my very first blog posts (#4), I told a story about Joseph Campbell that’s worth repeating. He said there was a five-year period in his life that he just read books. He didn’t have “a real job,” he didn’t really work at all. He just studied. Years later he said he could see that time was absolutely necessary, since it set him up for his later success. I guess my point is that I’d like to do better about appreciating this down time, this contrast, for what it is now. I’d like to recognize it as a time to heal, as preparation, an essential and important chapter in my life story. I know that I often judge importance based on the world’s values of success and money, but having reconnected with my heart and soul in the absence of these things and believing one’s heart and soul are valuable above all else, I believe the world has it backwards.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t pick and choose what you receive from life, and you can’t always accurately label something as bad.

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The Tendency of Life (Blog #668)

After two days of feeling like crud, I woke up feeling better today. In fact, when I woke up at eight this morning I felt so much better that I couldn’t go back to sleep for over two hours. What finally did the trick was a visualization/relaxation album I found on my music subscription service. You know–relax the top of your head, relax your shoulders, all is well in the universe, and shit like that. Anyway, I’ve pretty much felt fabulous all day–no sinus junk, more energy.

I can’t tell you how exciting this is.

I’m attributing my health’s upswing to a number of things. First, there’s a probiotic that saved the day last year when I had a three-month-long sinus infection, so I’ve been hitting that twice a day (by swabbing it up my nose) since I woke up sick Friday morning. For sinus infections, it’s seriously a miracle. Second, I’ve been taking Zicam, Airborne, and bone broth in order to support my immune system. Third, I’ve cleaned up my diet by eliminating or severely cutting back on wheat, dairy, soy, sugar, and alcohol. And not that any of this is fun (or tastes like chocolate cake), but I sure enjoy the results.

Despite feeling better, I’ve taken today easy. This afternoon I read for a couple hours, did my physical therapy exercises for my knee (I had surgery to repair my ACL last month), then took a nap. Then this evening Mom made dinner, and all of us watched the live(ish) version of the musical RENT on Fox. I say live(ish) because one of the actors, Brennin Hunt, apparently injured his foot during dress rehearsal yesterday, so most of tonight’s footage (no pun intended) was from a previously filmed dress rehearsal. Still, having an injured leg myself, I thought it was pretty cool that in tonight’s final scene (which was live), Brennin appeared not only in THE cast but also in A cast.

The show must go on!

While watching tonight’s show, I finished my very first knitting project. And whereas I wish I could tell you what it is, I can’t because it was just for practice. Still, I’m super proud of it, since it’s my first “thing,” and I didn’t drop any stitches. (Drop a stitch is knitting talk for fuck up.) Anyway, it occurred to me while I was working on this project that every stitch is important. Just drop one of those suckers, and the whole thing will be off. (I know, I dropped plenty of stitches initially and had to start all over.) Likewise, when it comes to healing, or even one’s life, everything you do counts. There’s no such thing as an insignificant action or day. Everything links together.

The idea of abundance has been on my mind today. This morning when I searched for visualization/relaxation material on my music subscription service, I noticed that one of my favorite authors, who previously had only one album on the service, now had fifty-two albums on the service. Holy crap. If I were to order just one of those albums on Amazon, it would cost eighteen dollars. That’s nearly a thousand dollars worth of material I have at my fingertips for free (or rather, for $9.99 a month). I don’t know, I guess I’m trying to see abundance where I didn’t see it before, to recognize that it doesn’t just come in dollars. It also comes in information, health, and time–time to read, time to rehabilitate and heal, and time to learn new skills.

Time to drop a stitch and start over again.

Drop a stitch and start over again. The show must go on. Recently I rewatched Bill Moyers’s interviews with Joseph Campbell, and my man Joe, while talking about facing your challenges with courage, said, “I think of grass, you know. Every two weeks a chap comes out with a lawn mower and cuts it down. Suppose the grass were to say, ‘Well, for Pete’s sake, what’s the use?'” In other words, we all get knocked down, but the tendency of life is to get back up again. That’s something I’m learning by watching and experiencing my body healing, that it wants to try again, that it wants to find balance, and–more importantly–that it can if I’m willing to help it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Ultimately, we all have to get our validation from inside, not outside, ourselves.

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The Universe Saves My Ass (Again) (Blog #663)

Over the holidays I wrote about an incident in which I made a bank deposit and was given credit for one hundred dollars more than I should have been. When I checked into it after I had my knee surgery and could go to the bank in person, I was told to keep it. “Merry Christmas,” the guy said. Also over the holidays, a friend from high school bought a gift certificate for dance lessons. These two surprises, the hundred dollars and the gift certificate money, absolutely saved me when it came time to pay my bills a couple weeks ago. Without either source of income, I would have seriously been up shit creek.

This afternoon I saw my therapist, and we talked about money and how it relates to depression, which we talked about (and I blogged about) a week ago today. First I should reiterate that this time in my life has been quite challenging in a lot of respects, and my knee injury and subsequent surgery have just about pushed me over the edge. Surgery is always big deal, of course, plus the fact that I use my legs to make a living as a dance instructor, and now I can’t dance until this summer. Just last week I turned down a teaching gig because the woman interested needed me to dance with her (because her husband won’t–typical!). My point being that a big part of what causes my worry meter to spin out of control is finances. And sure, some really cool things happened over Christmas, but as I told my therapist, “The universe is really fond of this last-minute shit.”

And I’m not.

Thus, despite the fact that the universe came to my rescue over the holidays, I’ve been worrying ever since. How will I make my next round of payments? Where will the money come from? Of course, I’ve had MY IDEAS. Every time someone calls to inquire about dance lessons, and maybe half a dozen people have contacted me since the first of the year, I think, This is it, God. Now just have them actually take a lesson and PAY ME. Alas, so far God hasn’t taken me up my latest suggestions about how to give me money. I realize this isn’t why God exists, to act as my personal automatic teller machine. Still, we discuss my survival a lot. And hell, this evening at Walmart I did find a penny in the parking lot, so maybe he is listening and I just need to be more specific about HOW MUCH it takes to get by these days. I mean, perhaps God doesn’t keep up with inflation.

I’m sure he’s very busy.

Well, get this shit. Sometime last year–in the spring, maybe–I got a postcard in the mail notifying me that I could be part of a class-action lawsuit, some situation in which the plaintiffs were alleging that the defendants had illegally called them on their cellphones. Or something like that. I honestly don’t remember what the offense was. But I did go ahead and “opt-in” because I thought, Hell, Three dollars and sixty-seven cents is three dollars and sixty-seven cents. Isn’t that how these things turn out–pennies to the plaintiffs? Well, when I opted-in, I found out my chances of a decent return were slightly better than that. As I’d apparently been illegally called about a dozen times (I know it was fewer than twenty for sure), the website for the lawsuit said I could receive anywhere from $20 to $60.

I mean, in my world, that’s dinner and tank of gas.

Okay, so that was it. I sent the postcard in and absolutely forgot about the whole thing. But when I got home from therapy and Walmart today, there was a disbursement check from the lawsuit waiting for me on my bed. (My dad gets the mail and puts it on my bed. Isn’t that cute?.) Three dollars and sixty-seven cents, I’m thinking as I open it. Maybe twenty-five. But no. The check was for three hundred dollars.

Three. Hundred. Dollars.

There’s always hope.

Y’all, I can’t tell you how exciting this was. To celebrate, I ordered pizza for me and my parents. (My dad suggested it.) More than anything, it was a huge relief. At least for the next month, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. I definitely feel lighter than I did this morning. Not just because the universe saved my ass again, but because it reminded me there’s always hope. Seriously, think about it. What are the odds that I’d end up part of some random lawsuit over annoying telemarketing calls placed years ago and that the whole thing would actually resolve and pay out weeks after I had knee surgery when I really need the cash? I’m constantly thinking whoever runs the show up there doesn’t know what they’re doing, but clearly that’s me.

So I’m admitting it. I don’t know EVERYTHING.

Joseph Campbell said, “Follow your bliss, and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” And whereas I’m still staring at a lot of walls in my life, I can say this has been my experience. For the last two years I’ve been living life on my terms–following my bliss–working on this blog, trying to make my dreams of being a full-time writer come true. In a lot of respects, it’s been hell, going against the grain, against what the world deems as normal. Even I often think, Why can’t you just get a real job and be like everybody else? But in other respects, it’s been heaven, following my heart and soul wherever they’ve wanted to lead me. And so far, despite this path being scary as all get out, it’s been okay. More than once, unexpected doors have opened and I’ve been given what Campbell called “magical aid.” Like, today I found a penny! But seriously, even though I’m still astonished when magical aid shows up in my life, I’m beginning to trust that it will always be there. I’m starting to believe that everything–somehow–will be all right.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If you want to find a problem, you will.

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On Our Messy World (Blog #597)

Currently it’s 3:30 in the afternoon, and I’m sitting in the Verizon Ballroom on the University of Arkansas campus in Fayetteville. My friend Matt is teaching a private dance lesson with a couple several feet away, but otherwise the room is empty. I’m not sure I’m supposed to be in here, but no one’s asked me to leave. Earlier there was a group class for intermediate dancers, but I didn’t get around in time for it. Whatever, I needed to sleep. Moving on. After the lesson, Matt and I are supposed to eat with some friends, then there’s a beginner lesson tonight and a dance with a live band. That’s the part I’m really excited about.

The dance.

Last night, despite being tired, tired, tired, I stayed up til one watching the FX series Pose, which is about transvestites, homosexuals, drug dealers, prostitutes, AIDS, and the “ballroom” world of New York City in the late 1980s. (Not ballroom dancing. “Balls” were a place where the outcasts of society could compete, strut, and “pose” for acceptance, recognition, and prizes.) Anyway, the series is fabulous. My therapist told me about it. When she first brought it up, I said, “Okay, I’ll watch it. You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

In last night’s episode, several of the main characters got tested for HIV/AIDS after one of them had a scare. They had to wait two weeks for their results. Ugh. This kind of anxiety is awful. I’ve experienced it, waiting in the health clinic for your name to be called. It’s so cold and clinical there. Not encouraging at all. Thankfully, I’ve personally always been fine, but once I was convinced I was about to hear the worst news possible, since I could have sworn I saw the word “positive” on the inside of my folder. But then the nurse said, “You’re negative.” It was that quick and easy. Like, bye now, have a good day.

I really didn’t mean to start talking about getting tested for STDs. But having been tested for a number of diseases and physical problems this last year and currently feeling tired, worn out, and simply “off,” I know that the mind–at least my mind–has a STRONG tendency to fantasize, awfulize, and imagine the worst possible outcome. My dick is going to fall off. I’ll never have any energy again. I’m going to die cold, broke, and alone. And I just know what a relief it is to realize that you’ve been blowing a lot of smoke up your own ass. Even in the face of bad news–your cholesterol is high, you have hemorrhoids, whatever–it’s never as bad in reality as it is in your head.

After the Pose episode, I watched an episode of The Power of Myth with Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers. It’s a series of interviews Moyers did with Campbell during the last two years of his life. During last night’s interview, Campbell says that the best thing you can give the world is an example of how to live in it. Because, as Campbell says, the world is a mess, and it’s always been a mess. Not that you can’t work to change it, but that it’s always going to be filled with both wonders and horrors, moments of absolute relief and elation and moments of unspeakable tragedy. So that’s what I’m working on, not rejecting an experience simply because it’s uncomfortable or painful, being open to whatever comes along.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perfection is ever-elusive.

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