Just You Wait, Mountain (Blog #1020)

This afternoon I saw my upper cervical care doctor. And whereas it took an hour to get there and over two hours to get back (because I kept stopping at antique stores), I was in and out of the office in five minutes. “You look good today,” the doctor said after checking a scan of my neck, “so I’m going to leave you alone.” That’s the deal, he operates by the–if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it–policy. Not that I’ve felt like a million bucks lately. Indeed, my back has been hurting and I’ve been fighting a sinus infection. And I told the doctor this. But he reminded me that just because you feel bad doesn’t mean your body isn’t healing. “You’ve been dealing with a lot of issues for a long time, and it’s just going to TAKE SOME TIME for your body to clean things up.”

Then he added, “For a while, you’ll experience remnants.”

Remnants, what a perfect word for those parts of our past (emotions, patterns, illnesses) that creep up every now and then and threaten to never go away. Yesterday I started painting the inside of some cabinets and cabinet drawers for a friend, and even after two coats of white, the ugly (dirty, filthy, rotten) brown that was there before still peeked out in places. And whereas I was tempted to think I’ll never get things how I want them, experience has taught me the value of persistence. So this evening I returned and applied a third coat. Now we’re talking, I thought as I rolled over the previous two layers of white. Hasta la vista, ugly (dirty, filthy, rotten) brown.

Persistence, that’s one of the things I’ve been thinking about tonight. The idea that if you just keep at something, eventually you’ll have a breakthrough (or a breakdown). Not that you should go barking up the wrong tree (you’re not gonna turn a homo straight, ladies). Pick your battles, know when you’re licked, and all that. But more and more I’m convinced that we don’t experience success in learning, dancing, remodeling, healing, and even praying simply because we quit trying. Because we give up. Because we think, This is going nowhere, and throw in the towel. Earlier this week I was thinking maybe I’ll just have to deal with sinus infections for the rest of my life, and my mom (randomly) mentioned a product I haven’t tried before, something she read about on her Facebook feed. Now, will it help? Hell if I know. It hasn’t even arrived yet. But the important thing is that I’ve decided to give it a whirl.

In this, there is hope.

Of course, all these things I’ve touched on–healing, persistence, and hope–require patience. Ah, there’s the rub. For anything that takes time (and what doesn’t?), we have to be willing to wait for it. Better said, we have to be willing to endure, to trust that things are going to work out. I think about the way a blade of grass can push itself through concrete, the way running water can make a rough stone smooth–given enough time. Most of us look at the mountains in our lives and think, Impossible. I could never get that thing to move. But not the rain. Knowing the power of persistence, it thinks, Just you wait, mountain. Give me enough time, and I’ll wear you down. Indeed, I’ll throw you into the sea. There won’t be a remnant left.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All your scattered pieces want to come back home.

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On How You Move Mountains (Blog #985)

Last night my dad and I went to the gym. I started off doing my own thing in a back corner away from Dad but eventually ended up beside him, me on an elliptical and him on a recumbent stepper. And whereas I was really going to town, breathing hard and everything, he was like, moving at a snail’s pace. So when we both wrapped up, I said, “You’ve been on that machine for FIFTY minutes, and I’ve only been on mine for FIFTEEN. And yet you’re COMPLETELY dry and I’m DRENCHED in sweat.”

“That’s because I’m in so much better shape than you are,” he said.

Everyone’s a comedian.

This afternoon I saw The Brainstem Wizard, the upper cervical specialist who’s currently changing my life. Well, to be clear, my nervous system is changing my life. My doc is just helping my nervous system out by getting my “head on straight.” For years I’ve complained about headaches, shoulder pain, back pain, and posture problems. In only two weeks, all these things are dramatically better. This last week I didn’t have a single headache. My shoulders are less rounded. Today I told my doctor that after each treatment I experience different sensations in my body. The first time I cried. Today I felt blood rushing to my head. “That’s how it goes,” he said. “It’s whatever the body wants to work on.”

What I appreciate about this form of treatment is that it views the body as innately intelligent. For at least a decade I’ve tried multiple ways to get the tight muscles in my shoulders and hips to loosen up with minimal results. Now I know those muscles were tight for a reason; my head was too far forward, and my body was trying to stay in balance. Well, now that my head is in a better position, those muscles that have been tight for years are beginning to loosen up. Just like that. Finally. Mountains are moving.

I wish I could say that this were a one-and-done miracle, but it’s more like a twenty-nine-and-done miracle, since twenty-nine visits over a year is what my doc suggested and what I agreed to. Considering my list of health problems has been growing the last few years and that my doc says his job is to take items OFF that list, the time and money I’m having to put into this are well worth it.

It’s always worth it to invest in your health.

With my 1,000th blog quickly approaching, I’ve been thinking about how I’ve changed for the better thanks to both nearly three years of blogging and nearly six years of therapy. Mostly I’ve been thinking about how although I’ve had a number of especially healing nights at this computer and especially healing days in therapy, I can’t put my finger on exactly WHEN I changed. You know how you look at yourself in the mirror every day. Sure, you notice a gray hair there, a little extra fat there. But until you whip out last year’s photo or try to squeeze into last season’s jeans, it doesn’t click that something’s different than it used to be. You think, When did it happen?

When did it not?

By this last question I mean that we’re always in the process of change. When it comes to going to the gym, seeing a therapist, or writing a daily blog, it’s not the individual visits or posts that change us, it’s the process itself. This afternoon I realized that I’ve recently checked out half a dozen books from an online library. Well, not only do I not have the time to read them, I also don’t have the desire. And yet my inner completionist says I should. My inner good student says there’s something to learn. But the truth is that no one fact or book is going to change me. It’s what I do with that fact or book, how I choose to integrate it into my life that makes the difference.

Along these lines, I have a personal beef with self-help posts with titles like “Twelve Thing I learned in Therapy.” Not because I don’t love a good list (I love a good list), but because I’ve read others’ lists and books until I’m blue in the face and know that lists don’t change you. Memes don’t change you either. Because they’re just words. This blog is just words. Even if they’re true words, they have no power. You, however, have plenty of power. You have the ability to take an idea and animate it. You can read “exercise” or “be kind” or “be honest,” and you can breathe your life into these ideas. Better said, you can BECOME these ideas. This is how you change yourself, this is how you change the world, and this is how you move mountains. Not with one part of you, but with the entirety of your being.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"The heart sings for its own reasons."