Acknowledging the Weather (Blog #847)

Phew. I’d really wanted this entire day–from start to finish–to be easy going, relaxing. And whereas part of it was, not all of it was. I’ll explain. This morning I had a lovely breakfast then sat down with a new book, about labyrinths, which I blogged about yesterday. My goal was to read the entire book in one day. I always feel like a badass when I do that. Plus, I have SO MANY books that are partially completed because I often do what I did today–start a book but not finish it right away (or ever).

The reason I didn’t finish today’s book is because after reading for a couple hours I decided to take my car, Tom Collins, to get an oil change. “And if you don’t mind,” I told the girl at the counter, “check out the steering wheel–it’s been pulling to the right lately.” Well, later a guy called and explained–“One of your tires is separated.”

“What does that mean?” I said. (Will it be getting a divorce soon?)

Well, duh, my tire was coming apart, which meant I needed a new one–two new ones. For $175 each. Ouch. Talk about depressing. Guess who’s coming apart now? Can’t a guy catch a break?

I know, I’m whining.

“At least your tire didn’t blow up as you were driving down the interstate,” my dad said later.

Yes, at least that didn’t happen.

Money’s been a big issue for me the last few years. I can’t tell you the number of times it’s felt like the universe has kicked me in the balls financially just to turn around and do it again. I mean, I get that it’s not personal. Shit happens. It just FEELS personal. Of course it does. A person’s feelings always feel personal. Anyway, all I can say is that although life’s challenges keep coming, my reaction to them is getting better. In the past I would have been upset about the two new tires for days. Today the “oh crap” cloud only hung around for a few hours. Then it was back to sunny skies.

Recently my chiropractor and I were discussing a situation that’s been frustrating me for a while now. And whereas I won’t say what it is, I will say–it’s my life. Anyway, he said, “Think about how that feels,” and I said, “It feels like a headache (which I get a lot of).” Then he said, “Now think about how it will feel when that situation resolves.”

“Oh wow,” I said. “That feels more open, more free.”

Later I told my therapist about this interaction and–without warning–began to cry. “I’ve been waiting for my life to change before I could let my guard down and relax,” I said, “but the truth is–I’m allowed to feel good now.”

I’m allowed to feel good now.

This has been on my mind a lot lately, that I’m responsible for my mental and emotional atmosphere. It’s not something that’s going to come together reliably, consistently on its own. Thinking you’re going to be in a generally happy state of mind without any effort is like thinking you’re going to have a rockstar body (after your twenties) without making a damn effort to have one. Applying this logic to my internal response to my car needing new tires, I decided this afternoon that I could either continue to feel bad until my mood passed on its own, or I could purposefully do something to improve it.

The “feel better” route I ended up taking was a meditation in which I first accepted my life for how it currently is (warts and all) and then imagined how I wanted it to be. And whereas the imagining how I want it to be part felt great–more open, more free–it was the accepting part that really shifted my attitude. So often when I’m afraid, nervous, worried, or upset, I shove those feelings aside. I clench my jaw and think, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got shit to do. Books to read, blogs to write. But in the meditation I welcomed all of my thoughts and feelings, all of my life situations exactly as they were. Out loud I said, Everyone and everything is welcome here.

For me, this exercise caused an immediate, positive shift. There’s something about not pushing so hard, about not trying to change the weather. So many times I’ve walked outside to cloudy skies and an absolute downpour and thought, Oh crap. Then I’ve run to my car, trying to avoid getting wet. Please. Other times I’ve smiled and purposefully walked slowly so the rain could soak me through. This is what I mean by acceptance, and acceptance can be applied to any situation, thought, or feeling in your life. It’s not saying you don’t want things to change. It’s acknowledging the weather for what it is–right here, right now, powerful. So we can either run away from the storms in our lives, or we can face them, embrace them. We can say, “I’d like to stop pushing against you. I’d like us to work together.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s not where you are, it’s whom you are there with.

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We Could Use a Little Help Here (Blog #828)

Well gross. I’m out-of-town for the wedding of some dance students and woke up sick morning. Sinus crap. I’ve been fighting it all week. I thought I was on top of it, but it appears to be on top of me. I hate that. Anyway, it’s 11:30 in the morning, and despite the fact that I haven’t left the place where I’m staying or done anything today, I’m blogging now because–come hell or high water–I’m attending that wedding this evening and don’t want to force my body to stay up late in order to blog. This is what I’ve realized, that even though I can’t immediately solve my sinus infection problem, I can do little things to support my body and decrease how much we suffer from it.

Down with suffering.

I said I haven’t done anything today, but that’s not exactly true. That’s never exactly true. Even if you lie in bed and snore all day, that’s SOMETHING. Well, after I got up an hour and a half ago, I ate breakfast (a protein bar and fruit), then read about thirty pages in a book I recently started about headaches. Today I learned that tension headaches (which I have) can be triggered by stress, anxiety (defined as fear without an object), and depression, as well as certain foods (often nitrate-containing) or liquids (alcohol, caffeine, or the withdrawal of caffeine).

The book said that for those of us who experience tension headaches it’s important to remove triggers. Granted, if your job is stressful, you may not be able to remove your job (or punch your boss in the face), but you can work at how you respond to your job or boss. For example, you could go for a walk or try meditation. Serenity now! For Type A personalities, the book suggested scheduling in time to relax. Like, make yourself shut off your phone, lie down, and stare at the ceiling fan. Or listen to the birds chirping. Or pet your dog or cat.

Another suggestion was to tense your major muscle groups (biceps, calves, quads, butt, back, shoulders, and neck) one-by-one and then relax them. The idea being that–if you do this enough–they get the message that if and when they get tense, the next thing they should do is relax. This theory made sense to me, so I tried it. (I let go a little. It was nice.) Once I heard someone say that just like you speak English (or whatever), your muscles speak a language too, a language they’ve been taught. So if your body is constantly tensed and stressed and you want it to behave or feel differently, you have to teach it how. You have to teach it a new language. You have to take time to say, Sweetheart, there’s nothing to worry about. You can let your guard down now.

I’m working on all of this, although it’s often overwhelming to think about and do when I’m sick. That is, when I feel like crap from a sinus infection AND have a headache (or even just tight muscles), I want to throw in the towel. More than that, I want to yell and scream at my body, Get yourself together. I get so impatient with myself. And yet when I don’t feel well, this is exactly the time that patience for myself is needed–because my body is clearly communicating that it’s had enough of the push, push, pushing, and the go, go, going. It’s clearly saying, We could use a little help here. We could use a little understanding.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be more discriminating.

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On Likes and Dislikes (Blog #781)

It’s five-thirty in the afternoon/evening, and–believe it or not–I’m blogging. Usually I don’t even start until ten or twelve at night. And whereas I enjoy the quiet of late-night writing, it’s difficult trying to rub two thoughts together when I’m tired. I often have to force myself to stay awake and pound this out, the whole time wishing I were already done, wishing I were reading a book, watching a movie, or–here’s a novel idea–sleeping. Anyway, this is me trying something different.

The problem with this, dear reader, is that I normally write about things that have happened during the day, and writing earlier means there’s less material to work with. An hour ago when I decided I was going to sit down and write (I procrastinated on Facebook until now), I thought, And just what do you think you’re going to talk about, Mister? You haven’t done anything today. But that thought wasn’t true. (A lot of thoughts aren’t.) This morning I shaved! This afternoon my friend Todd and I had lunch then went to a flooring store to pick out vinyl and carpet for a remodeling project of his. When all that was over, I put another coat of stain on the board I mentioned yesterday that I’ll be using for a project in my parents’ bathroom. Then I put my hair in a ponytail.

See. I’ve done a lot.

Hold your applause.

At the flooring store this afternoon, the options were overwhelming. My inner picky perfectionist kept thinking, It’s gotta be just the right thing. Thankfully, Todd was more laid-back, like, Yeah, that’ll work. And that’ll work too. Or that. For him, it was the easiest thing. And whereas I think there’s value in being picky at times, I also think there’s value in being laid back.

I’ll explain.

When I went to look for wood stain for the project in my parents’s bathroom, I was immediately drawn to a certain sample, a dark oak. Well–wouldn’t you know it– it was the one stain they were out of. Frantic, I dug through dozens of cans, and it was nowhere to be found. I actually thought about going to another store to see if they had it in stock. But then–finally–I went with my second choice–espresso. I thought, It’s close enough. No one else will ever know the difference–or care. Just like that, I went on with my life.

My grandpa used to say, “That’s good enough for the girls I go with.” And whereas I’d personally have to modify that statement (because I go with boys), I think it contains a lot of wisdom. For a while I studied a form of meditation that recommended–when you’re not meditating–training your five senses. An example of training your tastebuds would be eating broccoli instead of chocolate cake. The idea behind this suggestion is that our senses are connected to our mind, which often thinks and acts like a wild animal. It says, “Give me sugar, give me wild women (or men), give me–more!” But by training this wild animal–No, we’re going to do what’s good for us–we bring it under our control.

This same form of meditation, or at least the guy who wrote about it, called this working with one’s likes and dislikes. Again, the idea is that most of us are picky–we want our food a certain texture, our coffee a certain flavor (god knows!), our wood stain a certain color, and on and on and on. This is fine, I suppose, but what happens when we don’t get our way, when whatever we want is on back order? At least for me, I often pitch an internal fit. BUT I WANT IT! But does it really matter if I don’t eat one piece of chocolate cake, or have whip cream on my two-percent soy milk caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso, or go with a wood stain that’s one shade darker?

No. No it doesn’t.

The world keeps spinning.

If you haven’t noticed, I post a selfie almost every day. And whereas this may seem like an exercise in vanity, it’s not. I’m as tired of looking at me as anyone else is. Not because I don’t like my face, but because I only have so many poses and feel like I’m lacking in variety. All this being said, posting a daily selfie has been an extremely helpful practice in terms of my personal growth–because of what I’ve been saying about working with your likes and dislikes. What I mean is that I don’t LIKE every picture of myself that I post. In fact, there have been PLENTY of pictures I’ve DISLIKED. Because I was too fat, or had a double chin, or my hair was a mess. You name it. However, by forcing myself to “post it anyway, damn it” for over two years now, that picky, self-critical voice in my head has seriously calmed down. As a result, even when I’m not posting pictures, I have more self-acceptance.

Maybe the selfie thing, or the wood stain thing, or the not eating chocolate cake thing doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it is. Because here’s the deal. We all know how the mind can get carried away with what it wants. But by starting with something small, you can train your mind to not get carried away. Then when it comes to something big–let’s say you don’t get the job (or boyfriend) you wanted–you can tell your mind, We’re not going to throw a temper tantrum about something that doesn’t matter, and it won’t. If mind-training sounds difficult, it is. But consider that we’re all training our minds constantly. It’s just a matter of whether we’re teaching ourselves to be rigid in our thinking (everything has to be a certain way) or flexible (yeah, that’ll work). Rigid means we’re harder to please. Flexible means we’re easier to please and, therefore, happier.

TEN SUGGESTIONS FOR TRAINING YOUR MIND
1. Skip the dessert.
2. Go for a walk instead of watching television.
3. Turn your phone off.
4. Leave your dirty clothes on the floor (if you’re a neat freak).
5. Pick your dirty clothes up off the floor (if you’re a slob).
6. The next time you go out to eat with a friend, tell the server, “I’ll have what they’re having.”
7. Watch a television program or movie you’re not interested in (and find a way to be interested in it).
8. Listen to someone and don’t interrupt them.
9. Post a photo of yourself you don’t like (and watch the world keep spinning).
10. Think of something you want to do, or buy, or say, then tell yourself, “No.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"You can't change your age, but you can change what your age means to you."

Inch by Inch (Blog #467)

Despite yesterday’s onslaught of emotions, I’ve been simply dandy today. Not over the moon, mind you, but–what’s the word?–even-keeled, middle of the emotional road, “generally content” as my therapist would say. It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. And a nap–I took a nap this afternoon–that helped. God, we ARE a sleep-deprived nation. This morning I watched a promo video about a new (and popular) gym class–fifteen minutes of exercise followed by thirty minutes of honest-to-god napping.

Sign me up.

I haven’t been outside once today. Rather, I’ve spent the entire day either talking about or researching swing dancing. I’ve completely used up my laptop battery twice in the last twelve hours. My brain is full of information about Lindy Hop and everything even slightly associated with it. No wonder I haven’t been emotional–I’ve been too focused on other things to focus on myself. (What a relief.)

This is actually one of the ideas behind meditation–concentrate on your breath, repeat a spiritual passage or mantram, whatever–just give your monkey mind SOMETHING to play with. Because if you don’t–chances are–it’s going to play with old reliable–

Your problems.

My therapist says that early in life we develop “neural pathways,” which are basically “old reliable,” habits of thinking and reacting. So something “bad” happens, and you start to worry–because that’s your brain groove. You’ve worried a thousand times before. Probably since breakfast. You’ve got this patterned way of looking at life, and it feels natural, since it is natural for you. You think, This is awful. But someone else with a different rut in their noggin might think, This is wonderful–the best news ever.

As I understand it, it’s possible to work yourself out of an unproductive mental ditch into a healthier one. This is something I’ve been working on the last several years–trying, trying, trying to worry less and trust more. My therapist keeps telling me, “The universe is abundant–all your hard work is going to pay off–everything will work out for you.” Some days–I swear–she sounds like a broken record, but this is apparently what’s required to help rebuild my mental highway.

We have the option to do things in pieces.

Earlier this evening I finished the project I started a few weeks ago–going back and individually numbering all of my blog posts (blog #30, blog #31, etc.). I was so overwhelmed when I started–I didn’t even want to mess with it–but it ended up being the easiest thing. One day I’d do five posts, the next day I’d do ten. A little here, a little there. Tonight I did the final hundred, just because I had the time. My point is this–we make such a big production out of our lives. We think, I have to STOP worrying, turn my emotions around NOW, build a better brain highway THIS INSTANT. (Or is that just me?) But this thinking is bullshit, since we have the option to do things in pieces.

There’s a saying from an old movie I used to watch that’s been forever stuck in my head–“Inch by inch, life is a cinch. Yard by yard, it’s very hard.” I hate this. I’d much rather work by the yard–give me a sledgehammer any day–let’s get this damn thing over with. But in my experience, this strategy doesn’t work for personal and spiritual growth. (You can’t take a sledgehammer to your soul.) Go figure–your personal hurts, habits, and hangups didn’t develop overnight, and they won’t go away overnight either. (This applies to your waistline as well, I’m sorry to report.) So we do things in pieces. We work a little here, a little there. It’s simple.

We move inch by inch.
We remain steady.
We traverse great distances.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Take your challenges and turn them into the source of your strengths.

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Neutral Mind and Cup of Prayer (Blog #289)

It’s late in the day, even for me, and I’m just starting to blog. I’ve spent most the day in bed cuddled up with my Kindle, feeling generally–meh. I think that’s a technical term. In addition to having little energy, I’ve felt light-headed and shaky. I keep telling myself it could be worse–it could be a lot worse. Whenever I stand up and the room spins ever so slightly, I think, Enjoy the trip, Marcus. People spend money on drugs to experience the world this way.

Lucky me–I get the experience for free.

Yesterday when I went to Walmart to pick up my prescriptions (plural), the pharmacy only had one of them. “I think the doctor was supposed to call in two,” I said. The girl at the cash register checked with the pharmacist, and he said–nope–they only had one listed. “That’s okay,” I said, “I’ll just take the one and call the doctor’s office to see what’s up.” Well, I guess basic human kindness and understanding are in short supply these days, since the girl looked me right in the eyes and said, “Thank you for being pleasant.”

Assuming she was having a bad day, I said, “Are most people not?”

“No,” she said. “So thank you for being pleasant and good-looking.”

Talk about making my day. Two compliments at the same time, from a total stranger. I laughed and said, “You’re welcome.” Still, I thought, I only have control over one of those things, you know.

The book I started reading this afternoon is called Learning to Breathe Again: My Yearlong Quest to Bring Calm to My Life by Priscilla Warner. I’m halfway through, and so far it’s about meditation and other peace-of-mind and trauma-healing techniques the author explored in her effort to stop or minimize her panic attacks. In the beginning of the book, she says that everything started when a lady in a new age bookstore held her hands and told her was a calm person. Her friend that was with her laughed, but she realized the lady was right. Despite her panic attacks, she knew she was capable of stillness.

This part of the book touched me, since I think sometimes someone else has to see something in us before we can see it in ourselves. (Look, Ma, I’m pleasant and good-looking!) Once my massage therapist Rod told me that according to tantric numerology, my soul number is 4, which means I have a “neutral mind.” In tantric numerology, a person’s soul number is the day of the month they were born reduced to a single digit, meaning anyone born on the 4th, 13th (like me), 22nd, or 31st would also have a neutral mind. Whether this theory is true or not, I do think it’s true for me. I didn’t realize it until Rod pointed it out and I’m not always in touch with it, but now I absolutely know I have a neutral mind. I have the ability to be detached from things, other people, and results. I can take life as it comes.

(If you’re curious about what your soul number is and what it means, click here.)

The key phrase for someone with a neutral mind is “cup of prayer.” This means that if life hands you a cup, you don’t argue about whether it’s too full or not full enough–you’re simply glad that it exists and has been given to you. This can be difficult to do, of course, especially when life kicks you in the nuts and your body feels like crap. Like, Can I give this cup back? Is there an exchange policy? I’d really prefer something different.

A couple days ago I had dinner with my friend Marla, and during a conversation about difficult childhoods, I said that I often compared myself to friends who grew up “better off,” that sometimes I felt “less than.” Marla said, “Consider how deep and kind your childhood has made you, Marcus. It turned you into who you are, in a good way. Not everyone can say that. I think you were given a gift.” I said, “I like thinking of it that way–a gift.” Since then, I’ve been trying to see the gifts in my current circumstances, like all the time I’ve been given to finally get myself sorted out and heal on the inside. Sure, my body’s been sick lately, but I’m getting good help, most of it’s being paid for, and I don’t have other demands on me, so I can give this problem my full attention. This is the cup of prayer thing, being grateful for whatever your circumstances are, knowing that even if the cup you’ve been given is full of sour lemons, it can still be turned into something sweet to drink.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Why should anyone be embarrassed about the truth?"