What Do YOU Want to Do? (Blog #942)

After a full weekend of working and partying (and gaining an pound and a half), today I took a break from working and eating. This is something I’m trying to do, consciously rest and fast one day a week. Last Saturday/Sunday was my first attempt, and I fasted for 23 hours. (It didn’t suck.) So far this time I’m at 26. Unless something drastic happens first, I’ll break the fast at, well, breakfast tomorrow. With any luck at all, I will have erased some of my food sins from this last week and, more importantly, given my body a chance to heal.

In order to not spend the day thinking about food, I’ve spent the day watching movies, first Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindenwald, then Rocketman, the Elton John biopic. Also, I watched the next to last episode of The Deuce, a series my therapist started me on (but not for therapeutic reasons). Anyway, I’ve been hungry and a little lightheaded (please don’t ask me to be articulate), but it hasn’t been awful. One thing I’ve been thinking about is how we make things out to be a big deal in our heads that aren’t a big deal in reality. For example, not eating. I keep thinking, I don’t know if I can make it. But it turns out our bodies were designed to survive–for a while–without food. I mean, it’s not like our ancestors had refrigerators and a plethora of fast food restaurants a stone’s throw away.

What did they have, Marcus?

Their fat.

Another thing that’s more difficult to do in your head than in reality is going to therapy. Since I started therapy over five years ago, a number of friends and family members have said, “I would never go. I could never go.” Okay. What are you so afraid of–a conversation? Because that’s all that happens there. Of course, you’ll be challenged to change, but it’s not like anybody holds a gun to your head and demands that you get some boundaries. (“Tell your aunt Sally to stop being so nosey, or I’ll pull the trigger!”) That’s all up to you. Change is always up to you.

Of course, making changes and having healthy boundaries isn’t easy. If it were, everyone would do it. But again, experience has taught me that difficult conversations are mostly difficult in my head. Not that every confrontation I’ve had over the last five years has been comfortable and fun, but they’ve all gone better than expected. Once I open my mouth and say, “I think we need to talk,” I find strength I didn’t know was there. I hear myself saying things I was afraid to say (“I’m done with this shit,” “I’m sorry,” “I’d like to try again”) and think, Okay, I’m doing it. This is really happening. When it’s all over I think, Phew. That wasn’t so bad.

Something else I’ve been thinking about is a question my therapist often asks me when I directly or indirectly ask for her advice–“What do YOU want to do?” This, I think, is the mark of a good therapist or even a good friend–rather than taking your problem as an opportunity to pontificate and sound smart, they turn you back to your own wisdom. They affirm that YOU know what’s best for YOUR life. Recently I had a disagreement with someone, and when I asked my therapist how to handle it, she said, “What do want to do–other than kick them in the junk?” Well, it was a professional relationship, and I wanted to quit, to walk away. Ultimately, that’s what I did. I was polite about it, but I said, “I’m outta here.”

And I’ve been happier ever since.

I guess my therapist asks this question of her clients a lot–what do you want to do?–not because most people don’t know what they want to do, but rather because most people are afraid to do what they want to do–quit a job, turn down an invitation, tell someone to fuck off (to the moon, Alice!). At one point when I owned the dance studio I had some drama with a student and found myself being nervous to go to work–AT MY OWN STUDIO! Well, it took me a couple days to grow the balls, but I eventually said what I wanted to–“I’d like you to leave and not come back.” The best part? They did. Now, they took their money and a few of their friends (and THEIR money) with them, but the drama was over and I had more peace in my life.

The older I get, the more I’m convinced peace is priceless.

Joseph Campbell says we all start off life as camels. We take on heavy loads that aren’t our own–gladly. But if we’re lucky we evolve into lions, self-possessed creatures. The job of the lion, Campbell says, is to slay the dragon on whose scales is written the words “thou shalt.” This is part of the growing up or maturing process, that rather than forever being told by another what you should do, you become the authority for your own life. If your inner wisdom says to tell someone to get lost, you do it–and you accept the consequences. This is another part of growing up–you take responsibility for yourself and what your life looks like. You stop blaming others (your parents, the gods, the economy). You realize that at the end of the day the person with the most influence over your circumstances, your relationships, and your happiness–is you and you alone.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All emotions are useful.

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On Rainbow Brite and The Pits (Blog #941)

Last night I went to my friend Kate’s birthday/costume party at a local karaoke bar. I dressed as the Blue Power Ranger, but some dude at the bar asked if I was a character from Rainbow Brite. “I wish I were,” I said. My sister and I used to be all about that show.

Maybe next year.

Six weeks ago I started intermittent fasting and generally trying to be healthy. Well, you may find this hard to believe, but the karaoke bar was not serving cold-pressed juices. (Unless, of course, you count vodka as potato juice.) Likewise, Kate’s cookie cake was not made from almond flour. What I’m saying is that I broke a lot of my rules at Kate’s party. I drank vodka. I ate A LOT of cookie cake, fried mozzarella sticks, and–later on the way home–Taco Bell. Oh my gosh, how I’ve missed these things. Alas, my body has apparently not missed these things. When I woke up this morning I was gunky and felt like poop. I hate that choices have consequences. Of course, I’m sure all the secondhand smoke at the bar did not help.

Fortunately, I’ve felt better as the day has progressed. I’ve been drinking a lot of water and hot tea. This evening I took a nap. This is the deal when you either accidentally or (as in my case) purposefully fall off The Healthy Living Wagon–you don’t beat yourself up and you don’t stay off the wagon; you just get right back on. One night of indulgence may have its consequences, but it’s not the end of the world. I’ve lost eight to ten pounds in the last six weeks, and I didn’t gain them back last night just because I ate half of Kate’s cookie cake and two mozzarella sticks. That’s not how this stuff works.

It’s funny how we want to lose some things (like our fat asses) but don’t want to lose others. This evening while unpacking from my house sitting gig this weekend, I realized I’ve lost one of my favorite rings. And whereas I’ve looked in all the usual places I put it, I haven’t been able to find it. I hate that. I’ve had that ring for over ten years and wear it almost every week.

Of course, chances are the ring will show up. It always has anytime I’ve lost it before. That being said, tonight I’ve been thinking, What if this is it, what if it’s time to say goodbye? This weekend I’ve learned that a number of friends have had loved ones die recently. The loss of a ring is clearly nothing compared to the loss of a person, and perhaps that’s the point. But whether it’s the loss of a cherished object or the loss of a cherished person, sooner or later we have to let go. Nothing in the physical world lasts forever.

Having willfully given up a number (most) of my physical possessions, honestly, makes losing things easier. Not easy, per say, but easier, since whenever you willfully let go of your attachment to one thing you consequently let go of your attachment to all things. Tonight I’ve been thinking, If my ring really is lost, how big of deal do I want to make this? What I mean is, How miserable do I want to make myself? It’s fine to feel sad over a loss, of course, I just know there’s little point in my creating an isn’t-it-awful drama about a lost ring when almost everything else in my life is going well. It’s just a ring.

Earlier after I wrote about being mistaken for a Rainbow Brite character (Buddy Blue), I went down a childhood memory rabbit hole and downloaded all the songs from the 1984 Rainbow Brite album. (The link is to a ZIP file.) In one song called “The Pits,” Murky and Lurky, the two bad guys who want to suck all the color and life out of Rainbow Land, sing, “Accentuate the negative and be a pessimist, no better place for griping than The Pits.” If you want to put yourself in a bad mood, this is the formula to follow–look on the dark side, complain. Conversely, if you want to put yourself in a good mood, Rainbow Brite suggests using your “wits to keep away The Pits.” To me this means using your mind to shift the way you see anything negative in your world. This is what therapy has done for  me, not shielded me from bad days and loss, but rather helped me change my perspective about these things.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We follow the mystery, never knowing what’s next.

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Life Isn’t Complicated (Blog #939)

WTF? I’ve been tired all day. This morning I woke up at ten, then went back to sleep until noon. Then I ate breakfast, read a book, and took a two hour nap until four-thirty. Now it’s 10:15, and I’m about to fall out of the chair I’m sitting in. Seriously, I don’t know what the deal is. I can barely keep my eyes open. I hope I’m not dying. That would suck. I’m sure I’m not. Don’t send flowers just yet. Other than being tired, I feel fine. Exhausted, worn out, and run down (and as long as I’m being honest, irritated about it all), but fine.

Recently I heard Caroline Myss say that the thing we all have in common is that life isn’t working out for us like we want it to. Ain’t that the truth, Ruth? Take today, for example. I’d wanted to read more and exercise (I’m trying to get in shape here), but my body said no. This is mostly why I’m irritated. Because I had plans but haven’t been able to do them. Currently I’m house sitting and have some chores to do, but–quite frankly–I’m not sure they’re going to happen. Unless, of course, one of the chores is “snore.”

Lately I’ve been exploring the idea of slowing down and being okay with it, and clearly I’ve still got some work to do. That is, I’m fine with slowing down in theory, but slowing down in practice is more difficult. At least for more than half an hour. I suppose this is because I get such a good feeling when I’m being productive and, thus, my self-esteem is tied up in my being busy. I don’t feel worthless when I’m lying around, but I do feel worth less. Granted, there’s nothing wrong with accomplishing things, but there’s also nothing wrong with not accomplishing things. Especially when “not accomplishing things” means taking care of your body and soul.

Several times since I started therapy, my therapist has had to postpone or cancel my appointments due to her being sick or a family member being sick. Once she had to take off for a number of weeks. “I can’t be present with myself and my loved ones and still be present with my clients,” she explained, “so I need some time off. I preach self-care to others, and I intend to practice what I preach.” I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I run a blog about self-care, and although I think I do well with the mental aspect of health, I don’t do so well with the physical. Whenever my body asks me to rest, I usually say, “Okay, but let me get some work done first.” No wonder my body occasionally slams on the brakes.

As I see it, my body being tired is an opportunity for me to practice what I’ve been preaching lately–slowing down and being okay with it. I imagine I’ll gain a hundred pounds if I don’t exercise today, but the truth is I won’t and there will be plenty of time for exercising later. I imagine I have to get all my chores done tonight, but the truth is I have all weekend. Or even next week if I need it. One of the things I need to do is mow the lawn, but because it’s been raining nonstop for two days I couldn’t mow the lawn even if I felt like it. I’ve said a number of times that “things happen when they happen” and that I believe in divine timing, so now’s my chance to act like it. Life isn’t complicated. How do I know I need to rest now? I’m tired.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Authenticity is worth all the hard work. Being real is its own reward."

On Constantly Being Productive (Blog #937)

This morning I saw my therapist, and we discussed the idea of me slowing down, chilling the hell out. This came up because–as a general rule–I always feel like I need to be DOING more. Like if something isn’t happening in my life, I think it’s my fault, because I haven’t DONE enough. “That’s a real self-centered thing to think,” my therapist has said in the past. Alas, I can’t seem to shake the notion that if I only knew more or worked harder, the stars would align, the flowers would blossom, and the birds would sing. Okay, so I see my therapist’s point. Clearly there are plenty of things in this universe that are outside of my control.

I hate that.

A couple weeks ago I wrote that one reason we need to slow done is to give the things in our life a chance to integrate. Today my therapist said something similar. Stretching her arms wide she said, “Marcus, you have ALL THIS KNOWLEDGE in your head, and it needs time to settle, the way water needs time to settle into the soil whenever you water a plant.” Admittedly, I have a tough time with this, doing nothing, resting. I don’t know where or how it started, but I’m a do-er. A go-go-go-er. A burn-the-candle-at-both-ends-er. And yes, I know what happens when you burn the candle at both ends.

My dad’s told me a thousand times.

Today my therapist said, “One pattern that you’re still really stuck in is constantly being productive.” Boy is she ever right. If I’m not actively working, I’m normally busy learning–reading a book, listening to a podcast–or otherwise trying to improve myself. Hell, even when I watch television I’m usually thinking about the stories from a writer’s perspective. My therapist suggested I do more of what I did this last Sunday–watch television for fun. “Just sit there,” she said. “One day you’ll be so busy working and traveling or whatever that you’ll WISH you had all the free time you have now, so I suggest enjoying the hell out of your life as it is. Shit, I wish I had enough time to get my nails done, but I’m too busy.”

I think this is really important to remember. We imagine that our lives will be better when, but the truth is that even if certain things improve (like our jobs), there’s always a price to pay. Less time for loved ones or getting our nails done. I’ve tried to be more conscious of this today, the idea that I won’t always be able to do the things I take for granted now. This afternoon I drove thirty minutes out of my way to try a new restaurant. After I finished eating, I stayed and spent an hour reading. Then I poked around at a used bookstore and found a book I’ve been looking for all summer. This evening I taught a dance lesson and stuck around after my clients left to dance by myself like I used to when I owned my own studio. These things put me in the best mood, perhaps because I was letting myself rest from being productive, perhaps because I was aware that moments like these won’t always be available.

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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On Changing Toothpastes (Blog #936)

Earlier this year I got patch tested by my dermatologist and found out my skin is sensitive to, among other things, peppermint and cinnamon. Well, I freaked out. I changed soaps, shampoos, conditioners. I even threw out my mint-flavored dental floss and toothpaste. That was the toughie. Do y’all know how hard it is to find dental care products that don’t contain mint? Granted, mint and peppermint are not the same thing, but again, I was freaking out, going overboard like I’m wont to do. (No, not you, Marcus.) Plus, the dermatologist gave me an app (an application, not an appetizer) that said flavoring in general was a no-no.

Fortunately, the app helped me find products that work for my skin. My hairdresser and I aren’t thrilled with my new free-and-clear shampoo (it doesn’t bubble), but my skin’s not breaking out anymore, so there’s that. Anyway, my point is I thought I had all this figured out. But today when I got my teeth cleaned, I found out otherwise.

I’ll explain.

After spending an hour brushing, scrubbing, and scraping my teeth, my hygienist asked if I was still using an electric toothbrush. “Yes,” I said. “Well,” she said, “you may want to start brushing with baking soda and peroxide occasionally because we need something that’s more abrasive. Whatever you’ve been using isn’t tackling your stains.” That’s when I told her I’d been using some hippy-dippy shit for several months because of my skin sensitivities. “I’m fine with hippy-dippy shit if it’s getting the job done,” she said, “but your stuff isn’t cutting the mustard.”

“Well, I want the mustard cut,” I said.

The good news is that my hygienist was able to get rid of all the gunk and discoloration my hippy-dippy toothpaste had let build up since the last time I saw her. Now the plan is for me to use sensitive toothpaste in the mornings for my sensitive gums (I know, I’m SO sensitive) and baking soda and peroxide toothpaste at night for any coffee or tea stains on my teeth. And whereas neither product is approved by my dermatologist’s app or my inner perfectionist/rule follower, it’s simply going to have to be okay. My parents paid a lot of money for these teeth, and I refuse to let them yellow. Considering I used regular toothpaste for decades and and never had a rash develop inside my mouth, I should be fine.

Fingers crossed.

Getting back to things that don’t cut the mustard, it occurs to me that there are times in our lives when our ideals simply don’t work. For example, I love the thought of using hippy-dippy, all-natural toothpaste. Like, Look, Ma, I’m organic. But alas, all-natural isn’t always the ticket. So I’m left with what works, even if it doesn’t live up to my fantasy about how life should be (mint-free!). Along these lines, I can’t tell you the number of times since starting therapy that I’ve had to admit to myself that something I wanted to work wasn’t working–a crush, a relationship, a job. Recently I turned down some odd job work because my previous experience with the client had been–quite frankly–miserable. They didn’t pay enough, they complained too much. So I respectfully said, “No thank you, I’m done. This isn’t cutting the mustard for me.”

Lately I’ve written a lot about changing patterns, and whereas it’s more involved than this, changing patterns is basically like changing toothpastes. You stop doing the thing that doesn’t work and start doing the thing that does. This is whether you like it or not. For example, early on my therapist suggested I stop chasing boys. And whereas I agree with her that chasing boys is a bad idea, there’s part of me (my unrequited lover pattern) that gets a thrill from pursuing, from wanting what I can’t have. But ultimately wanting what you can’t have is a form of self-punishment. So unless you want to torture yourself forever, you have to get honest. This toothpaste is hurting my teeth; this relationship is hurting my heart. From there, you have to be willing to change. You have to be willing to move on.

For me, one of the benefits of regularly going to therapy is that it helps me see clearly what is and isn’t working in my life. I’m being literal about this. Because I’m anal retentive, I keep a list of things I want to discuss with my therapist. If I’m crushing on a boy, he goes on the list. If I call him and he doesn’t call me back, he goes on the list again. This is how I know when something or someone isn’t cutting the mustard–they keep showing up on the list. Granted, sometimes the problem isn’t the situation or the person–it’s how I’m handling it. At the end of the day, I’m responsible. But at the very least the list lets me know when something or someone is NOT well with my soul.

After all this time in therapy, this is what I absolutely know to be true–your soul knows when something is off. Unfortunately, most of us aren’t taught to listen to our own inner wisdom. Not to mention the fact that we often don’t even WANT to hear ourselves (because it means change). But if you are interested in listening to your soul and don’t know where to start, simply pay attention to what comes out of your mouth. What do you talk to your friends about? What do you complain about? What, or whom, do yo worry about at night? If you keep a journal, read it. What situations or people keep showing up? This isn’t a coincidence. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to do something about it. Maybe it’s time to change toothpastes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Damn if good news doesn't travel the slowest.

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Capable (Blog #934)

Five weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating between noon and 8 PM) and eating healthier (mostly paleo). When I weighed in a week ago, I’d lost 9.8 pounds (woowho). When I weighed today I was up a pound (boo). Still, this is a total loss of 8.8 pounds, and that’s not too shabby, especially considering I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for the last three weeks and haven’t done much exercising. Thankfully, the junk seems to be (finally) clearing out, so forgetting that which is behind, I press forward toward the mark of getting into my own pants (since I can’t get into anyone else’s).

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

Since I began intermittent fasting, a number of people including my therapist have suggested I try fasting for at least a day because fasting for longer periods of time gives your body a break (from digesting) and allows it to focus on healing. So in the spirit of trying new things for the sake of my health (and waistline), starting last night at 9:30 (after I ate a piece of pumpkin pie), I fasted for 23 hours. And whereas I was definitely hungry, it wasn’t terrible. In fact, today was kind of the perfect day. I slept in, spent six hours watching Season 3 of The Deuce, and went for a hourlong walk. Then at 8:30 I had dinner (thanks, Mom). And whereas I ate two helpings, I didn’t go crazy. Now it’s 9:55 and I feel fine–not hungry, not full.

For me the hardest part about not eating for almost 24 hours was deciding I could do it. It’s weird how attached you can get to the idea of food. You think, I’ve got to have it. Last night and this morning (before I’d fully committed to doing this thing) I thought, I’m not sure if I can skip two meals. What if I die? Of course, I didn’t really think of fasting as a matter of life and death, but I did wonder the same thing I’ve always wondered when I’ve quit cigarettes–What if I’m not strong enough? But having quit cigarettes and now having fasted for just under a day, I know I am strong enough. In both cases, it was just a matter of deciding I was going to do it.

And then doing it.

Something else I’ve recently decided to do is take cold showers. This last February I listened to a podcast about the benefits of cold exposure, and although the idea of exercising your cardiovascular system by subjecting it to varied (cold) temperatures made sense to me, I didn’t do much with it. However, last week I signed up for a free 10-day online class with The Iceman, Wim Hof, who’s a huge proponent of cold therapy and deep breathing. Wim has been awarded 26 world records, including one for climbing Mt. Everest in a pair of shorts. Anyway, I figured if he could do that, I could take a two-minute cold shower, which I did today. And whereas it was shocking at first, like the fasting it wasn’t terrible. Once I started breathing deeply (which your body does instinctively if you don’t hold your breath), it was fine. Not pleasant, not cozy, but fine.

As a self-professed cold hater, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but taking a cold shower was actually fun. At least it was fun when it was over. Wim says your body releases cannabinoids and opioids when exposed to cold temperatures, so maybe that was it. Regardless, I did feel euphoric, more alive.

Having struggled with sinus issues most of my life, there’s a part of me that always feels weak. Like I could fall ill at any moment. Consequently, I often don’t trust my body. I get invited to do things, go on long trips, and I think, What if I can’t? What if I get sick? And whereas I don’t have all the health answers I’d like to have (who does?), one of the positive things that’s come out of my journey the last few years is that I’m beginning to trust my body more. Last year I went through a battery of tests that basically said I was healthy as a horse. My immune system is stellar. I don’t have allergies. Granted, I still get some crud now and then, but little by little, I’m coming around to the idea that my body isn’t broken. At the very least I’m learning that I’m stronger than I thought I was. I can fast. I can handle the cold. I can write every day for over two and a half years. Now this is what I’m convinced of–that we are all capable of more than we realize.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Aren’t you perfect just the way you are?

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On Slowing Down and Acceptance (Blog #933)

Today I’ve been thinking about slowing down. I’ve been thinking about slowing down a lot lately, but today I’ve been thinking about slowing down and being okay with it. Like really being okay with it, not just saying I am. This has been on my mind because a couple weeks ago I came down with some sinus crud, and it’s seriously put the brakes on my being constantly productive. For example, I haven’t felt much like reading, writing, or going to the gym. What have I felt like doing? Sleeping, sleeping, and watching television, the things I judge myself the most for. Still, I can’t imagine forcing myself to work would help me heal any faster, so I’m left with what one of my friends says is the most difficult thing in all of self-help and spirituality–acceptance.

For me acceptance means being at peace with the way things are in this moment. Yesterday I weighed myself and discovered I’d gained a pound this week. Maybe because I haven’t exercised. Regardless, I can hate this fact (and I kind of do) or I can accept it. And whereas accepting something you don’t like may feel like a resignation, it’s actually an act of empowerment. In denial (my weight is fine, my job is fine, my relationships are fine), we become children who cover our eyes and ears. We cut ourselves off from reality. But in acceptance (my weight is a problem, my job is a problem, my relationships are a problem), we become adults who see and hear clearly and are therefore able to act clearly.

Not that any of this is fun. Tonight I had dinner with a friend who suggested I should date a local celebrity. For a moment, I got excited. But then I looked at his social media and found out he was already dating someone–a girl. Just like that, the fantasy was over. Acceptance. Alas, more than once I’ve put myself through hell wanting someone to be who they weren’t–gay, available, smart, kind, interested. My therapist says she’s done the same thing. Now whenever she finds herself falling for her fatal-attraction type (we all have one), she reminds herself, Do I really want to go down this road again?

What a great question. Experience has taught me what certain people are like in relationships. Likewise, experience has taught me what happens when I eat a certain way, when I don’t exercise my body. I can wish til the cows come home that twenty-two year old twinks were fabulous conversationalists and chocolate cake were a metabolism booster, but these wishes will never come true (no offense, twinks). So at some point (like now), it becomes incumbent upon me to stop wishing things were different than they and–here’s an idea–make responsible choices accordingly.

Like an adult.

Getting back to the idea of slowing down and being okay with it, I’ve talked before about how nothing that really matters happens fast. For example, I’ve grown tremendously through therapy and this blog, but therapy has taken five and a half years, and this blog has taken two and a half. I’ve seen good results from one month of intermittent fasting and eating mostly paleo, but it’s not realistic to think I’m going to lose two pounds a week for the next year. If that were the case, I’d end up weighing eighty pounds. No, there are going to be ups and downs, little setbacks here and there. Our fast-food society would have us believe otherwise, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Likewise, healthy bodies, jobs, and relationships aren’t built in a day either.

Last month was the fall equinox. This means that until the winter solstice, there will be increasingly more darkness and less light each day (at least for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere). Accordingly, there will be less heat. And whereas I normally despise the cold, this year I’m okay with it. I won’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to this season because it means slowing down, staying inside, and being more introspective. I’m excited about reading more and working on puzzles, about letting the story of my life unfold one page at a time, one piece at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Miracles happen."

Something I’m Real Shitty at (Blog #931)

Last night I worked backstage at Beautiful: The Carole King Musical until 2:30 in the morning. Guess who didn’t feel beautiful by the time it was over? That’s right, this guy. And probably everyone else who was there too. Yesterday morning we started load-in at 7:45 and didn’t finish until 4:15. Well, what went up in over six hours (we had a lunch break) came down in four or five. You should have seen it. As soon as the show ended, everyone started moving, packing up props, stashing away hair, makeup, and costumes, and taking down lights, backdrops, and speakers (they seriously bring all their own stuff). Slowly but surely, everything that was taken off the four semi-trailers was put back on, except perhaps several pieces of gaffer tape still stuck to the stage floor.

By the time I got home, it was three in the morning. I promptly crashed. And whereas I woke up at ten, I went back to sleep until noon (just in time for breakfast). I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for over two weeks now, and I thought, My body could the rest. That being said, I haven’t exactly taken today easy. After breakfast I ran to Fort Smith for a quick meeting and what I thought would be a short handyman project. Alas, it turned into a long handyman project and ended up taking most the early evening, until I had a dance lesson. Granted, I slowed down after my lesson, but I also frittered away a lot of time scrolling through my phone, which means it’s now past eleven and I’m still up writing.

My writing late at night isn’t unusual, of course. But today I’ve been thinking about something my therapist said recently–“Marcus, you’re real shitty at listening to your body when it needs a break. You’re real good at doing plenty of things, but you’re real shitty at that.”

I didn’t disagree with her.

This conversation started because of my recent and longterm struggle with sinus infections. I told my therapist, “I have a lot of goals, writing and personal projects. Recently I started dieting and getting back to the gym, and then this crud happened. So I don’t know if I’m supposed to slow down or push myself.” Well, my therapist did NOT recommend pushing myself. “Your body IS talking to you,” she said.

“Well, I know that,” I said. “I just don’t like what’s it saying.”

“Like, take a nap?” she offered.

“Yeah, like that.”

I’m going to try to do better about this. Normally when I see a free moment or day on my horizon, I fill it up. Or allow it to be filled up. But after I get through the next couple of days, my schedule looks free, and I intend to keep it that way. I plan to lie around the house, watch television. In a word, rest. Even if this doesn’t heal me, it can only help me. Like most Americans, I’m hung up on being productive, but my therapist says some of the healthiest countries in the world are the least productive by our standards. “They work an average of four hours a day,” she says. “What do you think about that?”

This concept, of course, is tough for me to wrap my mind around. I know I don’t have a regular nine to five, but I’m so used to being busy, go-go-going even when my body doesn’t feel like it. Because I think I should. Because I think I have to. Because–quite honestly–I’m in the habit of doing so. But I am determined to (gently) slow down. I’m determined to listen to my body, even if means working less, even if it means lying in bed for a week, a month, or more. I’m convinced–like packing a semi-trailer, healing takes time. It can’t–and won’t–be rushed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds. A dove appears--the storm is over.

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On Holding Patterns (Blog #924)

After a week of hacking and coughing, last night I gave up and caved in. I took cough syrup. Not that I was opposed to the idea before, things just didn’t seem THAT bad. I know, I sound just like a man. Anyway, it helped. I actually slept and have barely coughed at all today. Granted, I’ve felt loopy, devoid of energy. But whatever. I’ve spent the day resting, watching television shows, eating tacos. I don’t hate these things.

Now it’s 9:30 and I’m ready to go back to bed. Today I’ve been thinking about all the things I could be doing, should be doing–reading, writing, working, exercising. I guess I’ve really bought into the notion that if you want something to happen, anything at all, you have to MAKE it happen. Like right now, this very minute. Talk about stressful, especially when you’re sick. The thought of doing anything right now other than zoning out feels overwhelming. I keep telling myself this feeling will change. At some point I’ll return to life; life will return to me. Until then? I am where I am.

There’s this idea that sometimes life (God, the universe) puts you in a holding pattern. Maybe you’ve felt this way before, like no matter what you do you can’t get traction–with your health, your profession, your sex life. To be clear, it sucks–getting benched by the big boys. But this suckage is by design. That is, whenever life asks you to “sit this one out,” there’s a reason.

A few years ago I sold most my possessions and turned my life upside down in order to concentrate on my writing career. Immediately following, a lot of my plans–to move, to have money, to not be living with my parents–didn’t work out. What did work out, however, is this blog, and as I’ve said a number of times, this blog is the best thing I’ve ever done. This blog has forever change my life for the better. Simply put, although I’ve been in a holding pattern in terms of my outside world, I’ve been set free in terms of my inside one.

This is the point of a holding pattern, to get you to stop struggling so much, to let your old fear-based patterns calm down, and to let new, more productive patterns take root and grow. This could take years, of course, but even getting sick for a couple weeks could be a holding pattern. We think we HAVE to be out there producing, socializing, getting laid. But when you’re sick, you’re sick. Nothing sounds fun. Your new job is to lie down, watch television, be patient. (There’s an idea.) The old you wants to worry about tomorrow, but tomorrow hasn’t come. It never does. All we have is this moment, whatever it looks like.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And whereas it's just a single step, it's a really important one.

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When Something Is Over (Blog #922)

Some things that inspired me today–

1. A laundry mat

This afternoon I ran an errand in Fort Smith and spotted a laundry mat called Sophia Laundry. The sign said, “Come clean with us.” (Sounds like a party, right?) Anyway, I took notice because Sophia means wisdom. (Philosopher means lover of wisdom.) I thought, What’s the universe trying to say? And whereas the laundry’s slogan obviously meant–get your ass over here and wash your dirty drawers–I took it like to mean–come clean, or be honest with us.

I’ve been thinking about this all day. Not that I feel like there’s something I need to confess to the people who own Sophia Laundry, or to anyone, but I do think it’s what I’ve been doing these last years in therapy and on this blog–coming clean. To me this means being as honest as possible. This may sound like fun, but it’s not. Indeed, it’s really gross. Because coming clean with yourself means getting real about what’s working in your life and what’s not (what snot). It means owning and honoring all your emotions, including your anger. It means setting boundaries about what you’ll accept and not accept from others and, more importantly, yourself. This is hard.

But this is wisdom.

2. A Walk

After I ran my errand in Fort Smith, I stopped for hot tea and ended up walking around a nearby neighborhood. When I weighed in this week I was down (1.4 pounds) but not as much as the previous two weeks (2.4 and 2.6 pounds respectively). I’ve tried not to make a big deal about it, especially since I’ve been sick and haven’t felt like getting to the gym (but have felt like eating cheese). Still, today I thought, I’ve got the time, and it’s a gorgeous day. Let’s walk. Let’s burn some calories. Along the way I thought of a situation that’s been bothering me and remembered something my therapist often says–“If I said, ‘You’ve got thirty seconds to make a decision about this,’ what would you say?” And just like that, I had my answer.

So often we complicate things, but the truth is that part of us always knows. Going back to coming clean, this is why it’s hard. Because once you admit the truth to yourself, then you have to do something about it, and this means things will change. Conversely, there’s no change–and no responsibility–in saying, “I don’t know.” I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to think, I don’t know what to feel. These are phrases we tell ourselves to slow down the speed at which change happens in our lives, to keep things the same, to not grow up. Because we’re afraid. Because we don’t trust that good things are waiting for us. Because we don’t trust ourselves to handle whatever happens–good or bad.

3. A Vacuum Cleaner

Since the beginning of August I’ve been working at a friend’s rent house, transforming the entire thing one room at a time from brown to white. And whereas I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought I’d never finish, I eventually did. About two weeks ago I completed the last room–the kitchen. Since then I’ve been working to clean out the garage, where several previous renters had left–well–all sorts of things. Anyway, the entire project wrapped up tonight. My friend and I moved some furniture that’s being sold online, they paid me, and that was that. The new renter moves in later this week.

For me, the closing of this project is bitter sweet. Am I glad to not be rolling paint on ceilings? You’re damn right I am. But will I miss the work (it’s good to be employed) and the chance it gave me to spend time with myself, listen to podcasts, and be productive? Certainly.

I’ve heard it said that we do beginnings really well. Think about it. Whenever we get a new job, spouse, or house, we break open bottles of champagne, throw parties, and post pictures on Facebook. But how often do we do this with endings? Almost never. And yet they are just as important. Indeed, endings are required for beginnings. If you don’t believe me, think about having all your previous lovers following three feet behind you the next time you go out on a date with your current one. Talk about awkward.

Yes, endings are a good thing.

With this in mind, I decided to do a small ritual in order to honor tonight’s ending, to consciously make room for something else to come along. And whereas I guess I could have gone out to eat or celebrated, I simply vacuumed out my car. This seemed appropriate because I used my car to work on this project so much that it collected a lot of work-related debris–dirt, leaves, little flakes of paint. A few years ago I rescued a couple puppies but ending up having to take them to the Humane Society before I had my estate sale. It broke my heart, but I simply couldn’t take care of them. It took me months to wash their paw prints off my car windows. It was like a part of me was holding on. More and more I don’t want to do this. When something is over, it’s over. And that’s okay. Other things will come along.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rejecting yourself is what really hurts.

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