On Change and the Secret to Happiness (Blog #892)

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Today I made myself rest. First, I slept in. Then I finished reading a book. Then I did something I almost never do unless I’m sick–I binge watched a television series (The Deuce, season two). Then I took a nap. And whereas I’ve felt groggy ever since, I know it helped. I’ve been pushing my body hard lately, working both inside and outside (in the hot sun), and no one can go forever. I can’t go forever.

This evening I visited with a friend then went solo to IHOP to eat dinner and work on another creative project. Years ago I used to go to IHOP all the time–with friends, by myself. Well, get this shit. There’s a waitress I got to know, and she still works there. Tonight she remembered what I always order. She even remembered how I like my meat and eggs cooked (medium and over medium) and which pancakes are my favorite (Harvest Grain and Nut). Talk about wow. You think people don’t notice you, that you’re not important. But they do. You are.

Tonight while chatting with my friend I referenced a moment of frustration I had with someone in their seventies and said, “They’re not changing.”

My friend said, “I’m in my sixties and I’m not changing.”

So I want to talk about change.

Yesterday I had lunch with my friends Kara and Amber, and both of them are into the enneagram, a method of personalty assessment (like Myers-Briggs). According to Kara, I’m a 4 (The Individualist or The Romantic) with a 3 wing (The Aristocrat). From what I’ve since read online, all of this sounds pretty accurate. One website listed nine jobs that are common for 4s with a 3 wing, and I’ve either had or aspire to have six of them. And whereas I don’t intend to go into all the details about my specific personality type, I will say this. 4s apparently feel fundamentally misunderstood. “That’s right,” I told Kara, “I often think that other people just don’t get me.” But I’m working on this. Because for someone else to understand that you don’t feel understood is clearly to have been gotten.

My talking about personality types is, believe it or not, related to change. What I mean is that we often think our personalities are set in stone. Like, I’m a 4 with a 3 wing, and I’m gonna stay a 4 with a 3 wing. Well, this may or may not be so. I know that when I first did Myers-Briggs when I was sixteen, I was an ENTJ, and now I’m an ENFJ. Given some more time, I wouldn’t be surprised if I switched from an E (extrovert) to an I (introvert) because more and more I get a charge from being alone. In terms of the Myers-Briggs questionnaire, I’m already on the fence.

Richard C. Schwartz, who created Internal Family Systems, says personality tests simply show us how our various “parts” have organized. For example, if you think of yourself as shy, it may not be that YOU are shy, but simply that a PART of you is, a part of you that’s running the show. What I like about this approach is that it leaves room for change. It leaves room for your shy part to become more outgoing and assertive, or for another part to take charge. It means you’re not stuck in stone.

Conversely, when I said the person I knew wasn’t changing, I meant they WERE stuck in stone. And whereas this could be a compliment if a person were gregarious and kind, it wasn’t, since this person was rude, bossy, and controlling. Years ago I would have put up with it. In this instance, I pushed back. I said, “Listen, I know what I’m doing.” Referencing a mutual friend of ours, this person said, “I can’t figure out why they think you’re so nice.”

I said, “I used to be a lot nicer.”

For me, being less “nice” than I used to be is huge progress. I realize on the surface this may sound off, but as my therapist says, nice is a strategy. Nice is something you are to secretaries when you want to see their boss. It’s something you are to hair dressers when you want them to do a good job. It’s something you are to strangers and even friends when you want them to like you.

Nice is what I used to be. Now I’m more concerned with being authentic and kind. Because what I’ve learned is that you can be kind–and honest. You can be kind–and assertive.

After years of studying personality types, I continue to be fascinated by them. I probably always will be. At the same time, I’d like to suggest a couple things. First, just because you have a certain trait doesn’t mean it’s something that will never change. Indeed, if you think of yourself as fundamentally fearful, nervous, shy, grumpy, or awkward, know that these traits are perfect fodder for transformation. I’m not saying you’ll go from being an Emily Dickinson recluse to an Oprah Winfrey socialite, but I am saying you really don’t know what’s inside you wanting to emerge until you dig in and do The Hard Work.

Second, The Hard Work can happen at any age. My therapist says that unfortunately many people are just “children growing older.” This is what I mean about being set in stone, being either willfully ignorant of your immaturities or not caring enough to do something about them. The good news is my therapist also says she sees people in their sixties, seventies, and even older changing all the time. They get hooked up with a good therapist or simply decide they’ve had enough suffering. After decades of witnessing life and its atrocities, of being disconnected from their authentic, kind selves, they finally figure out the secret to happiness–Life’s not changing, so I have to be the one to do that.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All things become ripe when they’re ready.

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On Relationships (Blog #888)

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This morning I saw my therapist, and we reviewed a number of my past and present relationships. This is something we do constantly, really, and something I never did before I had a therapist–analyze my relationships technically. By technically I mean that I don’t go in there and simply vent–what a bitch, what an asshole. Granted, this does happen on occasion, but for the most part I simply convey the facts. “This thing happened with so-and-so. I said this, and then they said that.” Then my therapist offers her thoughts. “That was real shitty [of them, of you]. That was passive aggressive.” Whatever.

I said in yesterday’s blog that I’ve consciously downshifted or ended a rather large number of relationships since starting therapy, and–honestly–I think this is why most of us are scared shitless to really take an a good hard look at our relationships. It’s why no one wants to open that one drawer in the kitchen or clean behind the refrigerator. Deep down, we know we’re not going to like what we find. We know we’re going to have some work to do. So we bury our heads in the sand. I know that when I first started therapy and realized that a number of my friendships and romantic relationships were inappropriate for me (my therapist often said, “You’re just not on the same page–er–same chapter”), I found myself not wanting to even bring up the people in my life for discussion. “You’re just going to shit on them,” I’d say. “You’re just going to say it’s a bad idea (to date someone in their twenties).”

Looking back, I now know that my hesitation to discuss certain relationships was my intuition’s way of saying those relationships weren’t meant to last forever. Or even a week. Like, I could have spent the money I gave my therapist elsewhere. That being said, it’s been invaluable to have a trained professional take an outside look at the people in my life. Now, she’s obviously never met these folks. She would say, “I couldn’t pick them out of a crowd of three.” She’s never heard their side of the story. But based on the stories I tell her she’s able to say, “You two have terrible boundaries” or “I see a lot of potential for you two.”

Today I said that my people pleaser often thinks I’ve–what’s the word?–escorted too many people out of my life. (I used to say “cut” too many people out of my life, but my therapist says that’s a rather violent word. “They made choices, you made choices,” she says.) Anyway, my therapist said, “You’re simply making space for more appropriate people.”

Then she added, “There’s only so much room on the train.”

Think about that.

I imagine that to some people the changes in relationships I’ve made could seem rather drastic. I started to make a list the other day of relationships that I’ve purposefully changed or ended since I started therapy but stopped once I got to double digits. One way to think about this, however, is that if you’re running a pattern like the people pleaser, that means every one of your relationships is connected to, if not a direct result of, that pattern. Well, if you do something like start therapy or otherwise decide you don’t want to be a people pleaser, guess what? That’s right, every relationship connected to that pattern has to shift. Now, I’ve personally had plenty of relationships shift along with me. These are the people you want, the ones who allow you to grow.

One thing my therapist says (that I don’t think I’ve shared before) is that relationships are like living organisms. “They grow, they thrive, they get sick, they heal, and sometimes they die,” she says. “And you know when a relationship is terminal.”

I love this way of looking at things. So often we think that we’re beholden to people simply because we’re related, because we’ve known them a since childhood, or because we have a lot of time or money invested. But as my therapist always says, “Friends are for fun.” This has often been the way I’ve known a relationship needs a break (because sometimes they do come back around)–when they become too heavy. Not that a serious conversation isn’t okay. It is. But personally, I have a therapist for my heavy shit, and this leaves me lighter, brighter for my friends and family.

I’ve often told my therapist that my goal in evaluating my relationships is to see as clearly as possible. I’ll explain with an example. Years ago I was in a relationship with a flat-out liar. I’ll spare you the details, but they lied all the time–about things they owned, how many miles were on their car, who mowed the lawn (I did), and having leukemia (they didn’t). Well, it’s not that I didn’t observe their lies; I just lied to myself about what they meant. I thought, They wouldn’t lie to me. My therapist explained, however, that I’m not that special. If someone lies to anyone, they lie to everyone. If you don’t believe that, you’re lying to yourself. Anyway, this is another “downside” to therapy and working on yourself–you start seeing people as they really are–flawed. This person’s a liar. That person’s passive aggressive. This person’s shallow as a wading pool. That person is only interested in your money.

I realize these judgments may sound–well–judgmental. In a sense, they are. In another sense, they aren’t–they’re facts. Also, you can only see others clearly to the extent you’re first willing to see yourself clearly. Like, I know when I lie–straight up to others or just to myself about what’s going on. I know when I’m passive aggressive or shallow as a wading pool. I know when I’m attracted to others simply because of their looks, status, or talent. None of these things are inherently bad, but they can be a problem if they become a daily driver. Getting back to seeing things as clearly as possible, this is why it sucks. (Did I not say that before? It sucks to see things clearly.) Because we have to admit not only that people we love aren’t perfect, but also that we’re not perfect.

We prefer our fantasies.

All this being said, I’ve reached the point that I’ll take seeing clearly–the truth–over fantasy. I’m not a card player, but it’s like if you were playing poker. Would you rather leave your cards face down the entire game (or just turn over three out of the five), or would you rather look at your entire hand even if it turned out to be mediocre? Obviously, you’d rather look at your entire hand–because then you can decide what to do with it. That’s the deal (get it, deal?)–just because someone’s not perfect doesn’t mean you can’t play with them. Certainly not. But only by getting real about 1) who you are, 2) who someone else is, and 3) who you are together can you really decide what you want and what you don’t want. Otherwise you’re deciding based on half-truths. Otherwise you’re deciding based on fiction.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Freedom lies on the other side of everything you're afraid of.

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The Grace of Forgiveness (Blog #887)

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Something my therapist and I almost never talk about is forgiveness. “I just think it’s a really personal thing,” she says whenever we do talk about it. I agree. I grew up in the church and know all the admonitions–forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors, forgive seventy times seven. And yet in my experience forgiveness has never been something I’ve been able to force myself to do even though it comes highly recommended by our lord and savior Jesus Christ. It’s not like taking out the trash, a task you accomplish even if your heart’s not in it. No, when it comes to forgiveness, you have to mean it.

I’m talking about this now because this morning in my Facebook memories a quote popped up from Caroline Myss: “Identify one piece of unfinished business (this could be a person or a task), then do one thing to bring it to closure. If you find that you’re unable to do so, you’ve identified a major power leak and a serious block to your healing. Your goal: to understand that all experiences either make you bitter or better.”

For me, my unfinished business was, well, a number of people. I’ll explain. Since starting therapy I’ve consciously ended–or at least put on hold–quite a few relationships. Like, enough to seem ridiculous. And whereas I don’t regret any of these choices, I do think in several cases I could have gone about it better. Granted, I only know this in hindsight, since I’ve learned other, better ways of communicating. This being said, there are several people that if I were to run into them, it would be awkward. “Let it be awkward,” my therapist says. Still, these situations, these people, feel like unfinished business to me.

Now, whenever I feel like something needs to be done about a less-than-perfect relationship, my first reaction is to show up on someone’s doorstep and say, “We need to talk.” However, I know what it feels like to KNOW a conversation needs to be had, and I didn’t feel that this morning–about anyone. What I did feel, however, was that for–well, a bunch of folks–I needed to take one small but specific step toward closure. (What step, Marcus?) I’m glad you asked. I needed to pray for them.

Once a friend in Alcoholics Anonymous told me one way to get over resentment was to pray for the person you’re pissed off at–for thirty days. “Keep it simple,” they said. “Pray for their health and happiness and be done with it.”

“Even if I don’t mean it?” I said.

“Even if you don’t mean it.”

The good news is that as I went through “my list” this morning, I did mean it. May you be happy, healthy, and free of suffering, I thought as I imagined each person. Then I added, I release you to the universe. In a few cases, I felt resistance–like, screw them–and I figured this was a good sign that I absolutely needed to keep up the exercise. Occasionally I find myself in mental arguments with people (Fuck you, Nancy!), and this too, I think, is a sign that there’s unfinished business or something to forgive. My AA friend says that neutrality is the goal when it comes to your “enemies.” You don’t have to feel warm and fuzzy about them, but you do need to stop hating them. You need to sop fantasizing about humiliating them on national television.

Or is that just me?

Caroline says this is the deal when we’re unwilling to forgive–we can’t give up our desire for control, our desire for vengeance. It’s why I added the line about releasing the person to the universe. Personally, I’ve come to the point where all those fantasies about evening the score with people are just too heavy to carry. So let the universe deal with the sons of bitches. I’m tired of thinking about them. I have other shit to do.

Another thing Caroline says is that for every person you struggle to forgive, consider that someone else is struggling to forgive you. And also–for everyone you’re in therapy over, consider that someone else is in therapy over you. Ouch, I know. Still, I find comfort in the idea that everyone has their side of the story because it reminds me to not get too married to mine. Whether on purpose or not, I know I’ve caused other people pain. That’s something I tried to remember as I thought of the people in my life that push my buttons–I only know my side of the story. I push people’s buttons too.

Tonight I sprayed a friend’s fence with bleach then washed it off with a hose in order to remove years worth of dirt, grime, and algae. And whereas it was successful, I could do it two more times and there’d still be gunk on the fence. Sometimes I think forgiveness is like this–something that requires more than one pass. There’s an idea that the only reason you need to forgive someone is because you judged them in the first place (think about that), and maybe this is why it can take a long time to forgive. We have to come to a different understanding about what happened. We have to judge differently. These things don’t happen overnight.

Other times I think, You either forgive or you don’t. When I had my estate sale I let go of a lot of physical items. Three years later, they’re still gone. This means I really let them go. I didn’t half let them go. For me, this is the goal of forgiveness–letting go all the way. Not hanging on to resentment even a little. As my friend Randy used to say, “Set it free. Set it free.”

For me, freedom is the goal, and I think forgiveness is one of the best vehicles to get there. Because who suffers when you’re pissed off, angry at, or resentful toward someone else? That’s right, you do. That being said, I used to view forgiveness as a way to get out of having to have difficult conversations or to set boundaries with people. Like, I’ll just forgive them, and then I won’t have to stand up for myself. This doesn’t work. (I repeat, this doesn’t work.) This, I think, is why my therapist doesn’t push forgiveness. In terms of fixing problems in your life and relationships, and these are my words not hers, it’s not a heavy lifter. Yes, it can heal what nothing else can, but if you’re being abused, it’s more important for you to get the hell out of dodge than to be forgiving. Once you’re safe, then you can forgive. This is the grace of forgiveness–it keeps the anger and the angst from continuing. It stops you from abusing you (and others). It ends the past and lets you be free right here, right now. Of course, forgiving someone doesn’t mean you’ll want to go to dinner with them. (If things were really bad, you probably won’t.) It does mean, I’ve had enough suffering. I’m moving on with my life.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same.

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On He Who Dies with the Most Toys (Blog #882)

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Well, it’s 9:15 in the evening, I’ve already showered and had supper, and here I sit writing. This almost never happens. Usually it’s another couple hours before I even begin to blog. However, I’ve been up and going all day, and I imagine I’ll be up early tomorrow, so either this happens now, or I won’t happen later.

The reason for all this up-at-the-crack-of-dawn bullshit is that I started house sitting for a friend today–a friend who has three dogs who are used to waking up early and–quite frankly–running the show. Which means they’ll be running me for the next few days. Now, other than the fact that they’re early birds (early dogs), they’re quite lovely. Currently two of them are passed out on the floor nearby, and I don’t know where the third one is. She’s anti-social.

A few days ago one of the dogs apparently caught a stomach bug and got sick at both ends (I know, it’s the worst), so not only do I have to watch where I step, but I also have to shoot two different liquid medications into her mouth twice a day. Y’all, it’s like one of those carnivals games, trying to hit the bullseye. Yesterday my friend showed me how to pinch the dog’s mouth then as-fast-as-you-can squirt the liquid between her teeth with a plastic syringe. “Do you think you can do it?” he said.

“Please,” I countered, “I’ve given an inhaler to a cat. This is child’s play.”

Thankfully, my bravado turned out to be true. This evening I got both medications into the dog’s sweet little mouth without incident. Well, she did spit out a few little drops, but the majority of it went down her throat, which is good enough for me.

One of the interesting things about staying in other people’s homes is that you get to see how they live. What I mean is that everyone–everyone!–lives differently (and I’m convinced there’s no right or wrong). Some people, honestly, are slobs. Like, they have slime on the dishes in their sink. (Ick.) Other people (including most of the ones I work for) are neat freaks. Everything has its place. And yet how one tidy person organizes their kitchen is always totally different from how another one does. Ugh, I can’t tell you how much time I’ve spent over the years looking for spatulas, paper towels, and hand soap. Tonight I opened every cabinet twice looking for honey. Finally, I gave up. Just when you think someone is sophisticated!

Oh well, at least they have Southern Comfort.

Recently I saw my therapist, and our plan was to discuss a creative project I’ve been working on. And whereas she’d just suggested kicking some ideas around, I showed up with an outline, visual aids, and a rehearsed speech. “This was more than I was expecting,” she said.

“Well, I’m a control freak,” I said.

“Let’s say you’re a consummate professional,” she offered.

Lately I’ve been discussing changing patterns of thought and behavior, and this story is an example of what I mean. I’ll explain. For the longest time, I really have been a control freak, at least when it comes to me and my projects. If nothing else, I’ve been a perfectionist. Now, I could go the rest of my life rocking out these archetypes–and we all know people who do–or I could let them fizzle out and step into another, more mature archetype–the consummate professional, a pattern that simply demands I’m as in control and perfect (or detail-oriented) as the situation calls for.

How does all this relate to house sitting?

I’m glad you asked.

Even before I had my estate sale and parted with most of my worldly possessions, I had a number of yard sales in which I let go of A LOT of stuff, stuff I liked. And whereas saying goodbye to all these things was tough, I don’t regret it now because material objects have very little influence over me anymore. That is, I can walk into anyone’s house–messy or immaculate–and not be overly turned off or turned on. It’s not that I don’t notice nice things, it’s simply that I see them for what they are–things. In terms of archetypes, you could say I’ve shifted from a somewhat hoarder (collector) to a minimalist.

Recently I helped a friend pick out a piece of furniture, and they said, “I don’t know if it’s ME.” Now, they were basically saying they didn’t know if it would fit in with the rest of their decor, and that was a valid question. At the same time, I think a lot of us think this way–we see our stuff as an extension of ourselves. This, honestly, is why most of us start panicking when we lose our phone. It’s like a piece of us has gone missing (because it has). But what I know from letting go of most of my stuff and from living in other people’s houses is that–without exception–you are not your stuff, and your stuff isn’t you. It may be an expression of you, but it’s not something worth attaching to. He who dies with the most toys does not win.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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On the End of Innocence (Blog #881)

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Today I saw both my therapist and my acupuncturist, but not at the same time, so let’s talk about my acupuncturist first. (Here we go.) She mainly worked on my neck and shoulders, since those are my chief complaints. Like the last time I saw her, she stuck needles in me (it’s kind of her thing), then stuck (sucked) cups to my skin to help release tight fascia. This last process, called cupping, is one I continue to be fascinated by. Supposedly the spots the turn the darkest are the ones that need the most help/are getting the most benefit from the treatment. Anyway, check out the purple spots on either side of my neck in the photo below. I look like I’ve got two serious hickeys.

If only I were so lucky.

Here’s a close-up (Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up), of one of the purple spots. Yowza. Thankfully, none of the bruises hurt.

Honestly, I don’t know how much acupuncture and cupping are helping me. Neither thing is a miracle. That being said, most things aren’t, and I do think at least one if not both of the treatments are beneficial. That is, my shoulder has been better since my last treatment, and my neck has felt “looser” today. Even if this weren’t the case, I see my acupuncturist as another member of my healing team (it takes a village), not someone who has ALL the answers, but someone who has a unique set of skills and a certain knowledge base (that I don’t have). Today I asked my acupuncturist about a long-standing, off-and-on problems I’ve had for the last few years (body odor), and although I thought I’d “tried everything,” she recommended something new. So, as my therapist is fond of saying, I’m giving it a whirl.

Speaking of my therapist, today we talked about, among other things, business and negotiation. I told her I was bothered because I recently bought some supplies at a salvage store and felt sort-of taken advantage of. I’ll explain. The supplies I wanted weren’t marked with a price, and the salesman said, “I won’t charge you much.” Then he (we) walked all the way back to the front desk with the stuff in hand, and he finally quoted me a price. “Just x bucks,” he said. Well, it was more than I was expecting, but just by ten dollars, so I didn’t say anything. At the same time, my intuition absolutely knew he was pulling an old okie-doke on me. But I thought, Hell, I want this stuff. So I paid it.

Later I did some research, and I don’t think I got robbed or anything. Actually, it was an okay deal. Now, a GOOD deal (for both of us) would have been ten dollars cheaper. A GREAT deal (for me) would have been fifteen dollars cheaper. My therapist said, “It wasn’t about the money. What bothered you is that you didn’t say anything–like, ‘How about ten dollars less?'”

“I didn’t know that was an option,” I said. “I guess I was caught off guard.”

My therapist said she’s never a fan of the hard sell. “But I’m also not a fan of the quick sale,” she said, “and the fact that the guy rushed you through the process was a red flag.”

The advice my therapist offered to me (and that I’m offering to you) was to take a minute to center myself before any business interaction. Recently I had a business meeting in which I wanted something specific and was lucky enough to meet with my therapist first. She said, “I know you want this, but you don’t NEED it because you have LOTS of options. So go into this DETACHED.” Then we figured out what I was willing to accept and what I was not willing to accept. Anyway, today she said I could do this on my own before I go into any store or sit down to talk business with anyone. Had I done this before RUSHING into the salvage store, I would have known–This is how much I want to spend, and if it’s more than that, I’m willing to ask for less or simply walk away.

Because (I’m learning), you can always walk away. You’re never OBLIGATED to buy anything.

Even something you want.

My therapist said that for the cheap cost of ten bucks, I learned a pretty important lesson–to go into things with my eyes wide open, ready for anything. “I’ve known a lot of people who have learned that lesson but with two or three extra zeros attached to it,” she said. Yesterday I spoke about the stories we tell ourselves, and this is another example of how you can use your words to shape your reality. What I mean is that rather than beating myself up for not being more on my toes, I’m telling myself this is a chance for me to learn something that may (will) come in handy down the road. Several years ago I dated a MASTER manipulator, liar, and cheater, and you better bet that experience has not gone to waste on me. I can’t tell you the number of times since that I’ve been attracted to someone and then–upon observing their behavior–thought, Wait a damn minute. I’ve seen this before. Bye.

Today I finished reading Sheldon B. Kopp’s An End to Innocence, which is about how growing up and being responsible for yourself means just that. That is, the end of innocence is the death of your illusions and fairy tales, your childlike notions and wishes that anyone (your parents, a lover, a spouse, a great uncle, a doctor, a god, or the lottery) will take care of you. It’s the death of the idea that life is fair, good things happen to good people, and anything on the fucking planet makes sense. And whereas I’d debate the use of the word innocence (I’d prefer “the end of naivety” because I associate innocence with pureness of heart or the lack of guilt), I agree with the overall idea. Suck it up, Nancy. Life isn’t for sissies. That being said, I consider myself lucky because I do have a team, people who help me out. But this is the deal, the part that sucks. They don’t–can’t–heal for me. They can’t speak up for me. That’s my job.

That’s your job for you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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On Ways to Change Old Patterns (Blog #877)

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This morning I went to bed at three and woke back up at six in order to help my dad celebrate his birthday (it’s today). One of his favorite things in the world is chocolate-filled donuts from Irish Maid Donuts in Fort Smith, and the last time we went–on Father’s Day at ten o’clock–they were nearly out. So this time we decided to go earlier. Not only that, Dad called them this morning to make sure they were still open (because several streets in Fort Smith flooded during the night), and when we arrived, they not only had our donuts ready, but they’d also written “Happy Birthday” on top of our box.

Talk about service.

Dad and I ate at the store, and the lady working the counter said they’ve been using the same donut/chocolate filling recipe since the 1950s. Y’all, it’s delicious. Totally worth getting up for. That being said, I went straight back to bed when Dad and I were finished and slept til almost twelve.

This afternoon I watched several videos online, mostly “smartypants” stuff, as my therapist calls it. You know, self-help, personal growth material. And whereas I enjoyed most of it, there was one video by one lady that absolutely got on my nerves. I kept thinking, This is dumb. I’ve got better things to do. Still, my inner completionist kept thinking I should stick with it. My inner good student thought, What if there’s important information that we NEED? Finally I thought of something my therapist says occasionally–follow the energy. That is, if something doesn’t excite you, it’s probably not for you. So I switched off the video while the lady was mid-sentence and moved on with my life.

It felt great.

Lately I’ve been talking a lot about changing patterns, and one of the videos I did completely watch today said that you can engage new patterns in a couple of ways. First, and I know this seems obvious, but you can “just do it.” What I mean is that I have an old pattern of completing things I start even if I don’t enjoy them, but a desire for a new pattern of being willing to walk away from that which doesn’t serve me (don’t throw good money after bad). So the simplest way for me to get comfortable walking away is to actually practice walking away–from a book, from a video, from a person. People always tell me they have two left feet. Duh. Of course they do–and they always will unless they’re willing to at least TRY to dance.

Which brings me to the second way you can change patterns. Get a role model, a teacher, or a therapist. The donut shop has been using the same recipes for over fifty years not because one baker has come in and done their own thing, but rather because one baker has learned from another who has already done it. This is why you take dance lessons from someone who already knows how to dance. This is why I see a therapist–because she already knows how to have boundaries, how to advocate for herself, how to speak her truth, and so on, and these are things I’ve wanted to learn. In order to do so, I’ve needed–and I think we all need–an example, a guide, someone who says, “Look here. See what’s possible. See how you can grow. See what you can become.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some days, most days, are a mixed bag. We cry, we laugh, we quit, we start again. That's life. In the process, we find out we're stronger than we thought we were, and perhaps this is healing.

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On Self-Possession (Blog #873)

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Today I started painting a new room at my friend’s house that I’ve been working at this month. And whereas the room is small, it’s still taking longer than it “should” because it’s requiring three coats of paint instead of two–one coat of primer and two coats of white. This afternoon I rolled and cut in one coat of primer and one coat of white. Oh my gosh, y’all, I made such a mess–mostly on myself–because the primer and the paint splattered so much when I rolled them on the ceiling. When I took a break to see my chiropractor, not only was I covered in paint, I was also covered in sweat. I thought about going home to change, but then I thought, Fuck it.

Wayne Dyer tells a story about when he was in college and studying Maslow. His teacher said, “If a self-actualized person went to a party dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt but everyone else were dressed in tuxedos and ballgowns, what would the self-actualized person do?” Well, Dyer and his classmates had all sorts of thoughts. The guy would go home. The guy would change clothes. The guy would stay but feel embarrassed. The guy would stay but wouldn’t care. “No!” the professor said, “The self-actualized person wouldn’t notice.”

Okay. That sounds nice, right? Who wouldn’t love to go through life so self-assured that you don’t even NOTICE when you’re sticking out like a sore thumb? Alas, I’ve talked to my therapist about this hypothetical situation, and we both called bullshit. “I don’t know ANYONE with a respectable IQ that wouldn’t NOTICE,” I said. “Wouldn’t you NOTICE if you walked outside and it were a hundred degrees? Or if your tires fell off your car while you were driving down the highway?”

“I’ve known some pretty spiritual people,” my therapist said, “but I’ve never met anyone who’s self-actualized by that definition. Self-possessed, certainly. I’ve known plenty of self-possessed people.”

My therapist explained that self-possessed people carry themselves with confidence. They don’t ask the world’s permission to exist. In my experience, it’s not that you don’t NOTICE what other people are doing or wearing, it just doesn’t have a bearing on what you do or wear. Since putting my dance instruction videos on YouTube and my life in general on this blog, I’ve had both friends and total strangers tell me to get rid of my blonde hair, never wear flip flops to dance in, stop wearing hats and bandanas, stop wearing so many black t-shirts, and smile more. With all due respect, go fuck yourself. I’m an adult and capable of not only dressing myself, but also taking care of myself in ever aspect of my life. I’m not saying I have everything figured out, but whenever I need help, I have a long list of professionals whom I can consult. My therapist and my chiropractor, for example.

My point in sharing these examples is mostly to say that as you walk the path of self-possession, there will be plenty of voices that tell you you’re doing something wrong. Don’t give them much notice. Even this voice, my voice. Rather, take what serves you and disregard the rest. Just like I am, you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. The more you own your capabilities, the more the world will accept you as you are. In the last few years I’ve found I’m just as comfortable going out in public covered in paint as I am in a suit and tie. Not that I feel equally “hot” in both get-ups, but my self-worth doesn’t change. Either way I don’t worry about what other people will think or worry if they’ll be disappointed in me. This is who I am–warts and all.

It’s that simple.

Here’s one final thing to consider in terms of self-possession. A self-possessed adult doesn’t tell another adult what to wear or what to do. (Why, Marcus?) Because a self-possessed person is too busy working out their own shit and trying to be responsible for their own life to be concerned with someone else’s. Going back to Dyer’s example, this means only an insecure person would tell the guy in jeans and a t-shirt he needed to change. I mean, a self-possessed person COULD do it (if there were a rule or boundary to enforce), but an insecure person most likely WOULD–because they feel insecure, because they need someone or something outside of them to change in order for them to feel better. That’s the deal with self-possessed people. They know what’s outside them doesn’t really matter. This is why they’re comfortable in both rags or robes. It’s what’s inside them that determines their joy.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Freedom lies on the other side of everything you're afraid of.

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Enough (Blog #867)

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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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You’re exactly where you need to be.

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On Staying on Top of Things (Blog #864)

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Phew. It’s 11:15 at night, and Daddy is worn out. This afternoon and evening I mowed and weedeated two lawns. And whereas my body rose to the occasion after being sick most of last week, y’all, it was hotter than the devil’s armpit. Thankfully, since I started later in the day, I had a lot of shade. Plus, I stayed hydrated–I drank over a gallon of water. Anyway, I worried last week because my stomach bug kept me from my mowing obligations, but everything turned out okay. The grass waited for me. Hell, it even grew. This wasn’t a problem for me, though. I enjoy a good challenge.

Before I mowed the lawns today, I grabbed a burrito (okay, two) for lunch then used a toothpick apparatus to clean my teeth. Oh my gosh, one of my back teeth has been bothering me lately, and–no shit–I dug out a piece of popcorn that’s apparently been stuck up there since last week when I went to the movies. I seriously don’t know how this little sucker got passed me. I brush and floss every day. It must have really been hiding.

The thing that’s been on my mind today is how so often little things become big things. Like that piece of popcorn (when I pulled it out, my gums bled). Like the grass I mowed today (I had to go over several grown-up sections twice). Like the problems I’ve had in my relationships, both platonic and non-platonic. Looking back, without exception, I can see that every major blowup I’ve had in my relationships was due to the fact that I ignored red flags and let things get out of hand. When I finally did confront problems, I imagine there were more hurt feelings than there needed to be because, by that point, there was so much history. People had become attached.

A while back I had a date with someone and realized we simply weren’t compatible (because they were bat-shit crazy and I’m not). Nonetheless, I was still attracted to this person, since, let’s be honest, crazy can be real hot. Now, fortunately, things fizzled out on their own, but in thinking about whether or not I should “try again,” I remembered something my therapist says she tells herself sometimes–“Do you REALLY want to do that? We’ve been down this road before and know how it ends.” So I didn’t. I didn’t try again.

My point in telling this story is that the old me would have clung on for all the wrong reasons until eventually things got so miserable I couldn’t stand it. Not only that, the old me would have done this repeatedly, each time with a different person. The old me did do that. Most of us operate this way. Different people come in and out of our lives, but we experience the same problems, the same drama. As I recently heard, people say life is one damn thing after another, but it’s actually the same damn thing over and over again. Why? Because we refuse to recognize and change our patterns.

I say recognize and change because recognition is huge. People say you first have to admit you have a problem, and this means SEEING you have a problem. This is where a therapist or trusted friend comes in handy. They see problems we can’t see because we’re too close to them. That was the deal for me. The old me didn’t realize what was going on. Sure, I recognized certain bad behavior, but I wasn’t able to connect the dots. Things would just one day blow up, and it was like, “How did we get here?” Now after years of therapy I’m able to step back and observe others’ behavior neutrally. Like, that was passive aggressive. That was real shitty. That was bat-shit crazy. Even, that was real mature.

Or, I’m being unrealistic. Or, I’m just not that into them.

Recently I heard that life will invite you to self-abandon a dozen times a day. This means we’re constantly tempted to eat things that are bad for us, make someone else’s needs more important than our own, or take the easy way out. My therapist is always saying, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch–you either pay now or you pay later.” To me this means that we can either stay on top of our lawns, diets, and relationships with minimal effort, or we can ignore problems and have to bring out the big guns later. Neither way is right or wrong, but big guns always mean more fallout, more collateral damage, and–usually–a longer period of healing or putting yourself back together. So for me it’s becoming more and more important to stay on top of things. This means seeing clearly, being as honest as possible, and–if necessary–taking action.

And not dating people who are bat-shit crazy.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All things are moving as they should.

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Reverse, NEUTRAL, Drive (Blog #859)

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Two nights ago I threw up everything I’d eaten for the previous week. It was nasty. Thankfully, I haven’t thrown up since. I have, however, been dragging ass. Yesterday I spent all day in bed. Today, by the grace of God, I only spent half the day in bed. My energy is noticeably better–I took a shower today!–but it’s still not fabulous. This evening I taught a dance lesson and thought, I think I’m perking up, then I came home and promptly merged my ass with the couch. Ugh. You just can’t heal any faster than you do.

Ain’t that the truth, Ruth?

Normally when I’m sick I’m pretty impatient. I want to heal NOW. And whereas, of course, I’d like to feel better on the lickety-split, I’ve noticed this time around that I’ve been able to let things unfold at their own pace. I keep thinking of how for two hours Sunday night I felt nauseated and then how–all of a sudden–I was on the bathroom floor vomiting. It was so fast, so violent. My point is that my body was clearly ON IT, working swiftly to remove whatever was bothering us. Y’all, I’ve given my body a lot of crap over the years, and yet right there on the cold tile I had all this proof that my body was on my side. Clearly my immune system is like one of those muscle-y bouncers at da club. It’s ready to throw any offending party out on its rear.

Like, get the hell out. And stay out.

Now, do I wish that I’d thrown up Sunday night and felt better immediately? Of course. But in truth, I have felt better–progressively better. And when you consider that my body was just poisoned or otherwise invaded–and that in throwing out the bad guys my stomach also had to throw out some good guys–it makes sense that it would take a few days for things to regain their balance. Even if it takes a week, what’s the big deal? Few things in life can’t wait a week.

This perspective, that my body is actually on my side and constantly working to help me, helps make the healing process more bearable. Recently I heard that when things aren’t going well in your life, it may be because you’re in a time of transition. When I’m teaching dance I often compare a series of three steps to “reverse, neutral, and drive,” meaning the first step goes back, the second step stays in place, and the third step goes forward. My point in teaching it this way is to emphasize that each step is important–even the neutral one that doesn’t “go” anywhere. Anyway, lately I’ve been thinking about how important the neutral phases in our lives are.

I’ll explain.

A while back I had a confrontation that wasn’t fun for me. And although it wasn’t fun, it felt good to not bite my tongue. It felt good to be honest and let the chips fall where they may, where they needed to. When I discussed this confrontation with my therapist she said, “I imagine there will come a day when you’ll be negotiating a business deal, and this skill of speaking your truth and standing your ground will come in handy. So just think of this as practice.”

I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this advice, the idea that although my current circumstances aren’t glamorous, they may be preparing me for something better down the line. Lately I’ve been reminded of the adage, “If you want the things in your life to change, you have to be willing to change the things in you life.” To me this means that if you want your life to be different, YOU have to be willing to be different. Of course, like healing, personal change doesn’t happen overnight. It’s something that comes in stages. The future you is something you grow into a little bit here, a little bit there.

Recently I blogged about changing patterns, and this is basically what I’m talking about tonight. Applied to my example about confronting someone, you could say that I USED to have a pattern of letting myself be walked on like a door mat (reverse), but that for the last few years I’ve been 1) letting that pattern die out and 2) letting a new pattern develop–speaking up for my damn self (neutral)–so that I’ll be better able to navigate the rest of my life (forward). Y’all, my therapist is probably the most outspoken and confrontational person I know, but she says she used to be quiet as a church mouse. Well, shit, she didn’t just wake up loud and boisterous one day. She had to work at it. She too had to go through a neutral phase.

More and more, I’m appreciating the neutral phase, the transitional phase, the healing phase. I think when you realize there’s a point to it, it’s easier to sit with, patiently. When you remodel and redecorate a room, you have to let the paint dry before you hang the curtains. Otherwise you’ll have a damn mess. Likewise, when you want an entirely different life, you have to let your old one (your old patterns) dry up first. I mean, what would happen if you were a people pleaser and all of a sudden inherited a bunch of money? That’s right–goodbye money. Why? Because your pocketbook changed but YOU didn’t. So if it feels like you’re stuck and not going anywhere–good. Chances are you’re being given a chance to change, to learn something new, to heal. Take heart. Be patient. Your time is coming.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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I don't think anyone came to this planet in order to get it right the first time. What would be the point?

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