Responsible (Blog #1081)

When you stay home all day (#flattenthecurve), you can get a lot done. This afternoon I watched two videos about the esoteric history of Egypt with my dad and finished two custom-order brooch projects. Then this evening I dusted and vacuumed my room and cleaned my bathroom and shower. And washed my sheets. Woowho. That’s twice this year already. Then I cried while watching American Idol and took a much-needed shower. Now I’m basking in all the cleanliness. I’m clean, my sheets are clean, my room is clean. God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world.

Except for COVID-19, of course.

Along these lines, this morning I read a Facebook post about COVID-19 that used the phrase “we’re not in control.” And whereas I agree with this statement and said as much a couple days ago (that at some point we have to surrender), I think it’s a statement worth clarifying. Because how often do we through up our hands and say, “What can we do!?” when, in fact, there’s plenty we can do? Too often, that’s how often. What I mean is that although we are not in control of viruses, epidemics, and pandemics, we ARE in control of ourselves. To this end, we can make CHOICES, to wash our hands, to stay home, to practice social distancing, to reflect and act consciously rather than out of panic, and to be kind at the grocery store. To fill our time, hearts, and homes with patience and understanding rather than blame and fear.

Unfortunately, so many of us spend our lives cleaning our physical homes, even to the point of obsession, but not our internal homes. In other words, we have sloppy minds, filled with rage, guilt, finger-pointing, worry, and anxiety. Alas, we think, This is just the way I am. (Deal with it.) Having spent the last several years purposefully working on my interior, I’m happy to report that, no, it’s not just the way you are. Rather, if you spend your days feeling stressed or nervous or being rude and inconsiderate (and I know it’s not fun to admit these things about yourself), chances are it’s simply the result of past dramas and traumas (like, you’ve developed defense mechanisms) or because you haven’t learned a better way (or haven’t wanted to). It’s not because, although you may have been told this once or twice, you were born a wretch, totally rotten, beyond hope.

This is a complete lie. Utter nonsense. Sure, you may have some work to do, but–I promise–you were made from stardust. You are a mystery, and your life–as it is right here, right now–is worthy of your respect, gratitude, and awe.

Getting back to the idea of control, six years of therapy and consistent introspection have taught me that there are few things we don’t have SOME say in. Indeed, in all this time there hasn’t been one rough relationship or situation that I haven’t been able to do SOMETHING about. Sometimes this has looked like having a difficult conversation or distancing myself, and sometimes this has looked like changing my attitude. Or forgiving. Of course, the challenging part about admitting that you have choices even in gross circumstances is that you have to be responsible for the consequences of those choices. For example, recently I flipped off someone that I actually care about. Now, I did it with two fingers, but the look on my face said the second finger didn’t count. Anyway, I could have handled it better. But I’ve been upset with and hurt by this person for a while now, and this is the way my held-in feelings came out. So there’s been some relief. And if I ever have to own up to being a little shit in that moment, I’m ready to. My actions are never anyone else’s fault.

My life is mine to own.

Perhaps this is why more people don’t get into therapy or otherwise take a good, hard look at themselves. It sucks. I mean, who wants to be responsible? Tonight on American Idol there was a contestant in their mid-twenties dressed like an eight-year old. Indeed, they handed the judges a book they wrote–when they were nine. And whereas they had a beautiful voice and did well, it was clear that their inner child was running the show. Oh well. We all act like children or little shits occasionally. Because we all have parts of ourselves that still need healing and show up from time to time (daily) in order to let us know.

In times of crisis like these Mr. Rogers is often quoted as saying, “Look for the helpers,” and its our unhealed parts that like to hear this. But one of his staff pointed out in the podcast Finding Fred that that advice was meant FOR CHILDREN. As adults, we’re meant to BE the helpers.

So this means growing up. And this sucks.

I recommend it anyway.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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And God knows you don't make everyone else happy. But this is no reason to quit or be discouraged, since doing what you love and feel called to do is never--never--about gaining acceptance from others.

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Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (Blog #463)

The best parts of today–

1. There is time and space for everything

Last night I went to bed at 10:30. I woke up in the middle of the night for a couple hours, but slept until noon today. My body is so exhausted. Maybe it’s my sinuses. Maybe I’m sick. I don’t know, but I’m glad that my life is such now that I can sleep, can rest.

2. I have a brain that works

This afternoon I started reading a book I’ve toted around for a while now–The Mysteries of Sex by CJS Thompson. It’s a collection of true stories about women who have impersonated or lived as men or vice versa. I think it will be fascinating, but in the introduction (written in 1974) while talking about the fact that we all contain both masculine and feminine qualities, the author says, “The homosexual not only accentuates any feminine qualities he may already possess, such as a high-pitched voice, but also attempts to imitate women in speech, walk, and mannerisms, and from early childhood is usually characterized by an inversion of interests, attitudes, an activities.”

Based on my personal experience as a homosexual, this statement is utter bullshit. (Insert dramatic hand wave here.) But seriously, this has not been true for me. I don’t try to accentuate my feminine qualities (I don’t have a high-pitched voice), nor do I attempt to imitate women. Actually, I don’t try to imitate anyone. I am myself, period. But my point is this–conventional wisdom changes–dramatically–the more information we have. So the next time someone tells you something “because an old book says,” feel free to say, “Wait a damn minute. This is the 21st century, and we know a lot more now.”

3. I can take things in pieces

Earlier I went to the library to work on a travel-writing story, one I started yesterday. I’m still not done with it, but I’m closer. My all-or-nothing brain wants to knock it out in one fell swoop, but my tired body isn’t having it. So I’m working a little at a time. Likewise, for the last few weeks, I’ve been going back and changing all the blog titles one-by-one so that they include an individual blog number (#153, #154, etc.). I originally did this just for milestone blogs (every fifty or so), but as blog “memories” pop up, the title alone doesn’t tell me where a particular blog fell in the grand scheme of things. Anyway, it’s a slow process–I currently have 135 more blogs to go before the project is “complete”–but what’s my hurry?

There’s not one.

4. Old friends are the best

Maybe fifteen years ago I picked up a jacket in a second-hand store–an old workman’s jacket with the name Robert sewn over the left breast pocket. I used to wear him all the time. I say “him” because he (the jacket) sort of developed his own personality the longer I had him. He became my alter ego–a little more sarcastic, a little more outgoing–and was even considered a member of our family. One year he signed my (our) sister’s birthday card. I used to see a chiropractor who would send appointment reminders addressed to “Marcus Robert.”

He was that big of a deal.

Anyway, Robert’s been in the closet for a while now. (Haven’t we all?) But before leaving for the library today, I slipped him on. “Oh, Robert!” Dad said. “I haven’t seen Robert in a long time.”

5. I like you just the way you are

After working at the library, I went with my friend Bonnie to see the new movie/documentary about Mr. Rogers–Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Y’all, this is a beautiful story about a beautiful soul, someone who spent his life believing that every person has inherent value and is worthy of love, someone who taught children that their feelings are valid. I remember watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood growing up, but I don’t think I really “got it” until today. What a gorgeous thing this man was about–the idea that love–or the lack thereof–is at the root of every relationship, every problem and solution. Who doesn’t need to be looked squarely in the eyes and told, “I like you just the way you are”?

Bonnie and I did a lot of crying.

6. Won’t you be my neighbor?

Now it’s 8:30 in the evening, and the rest of the day remains. When this is finished, I’m meeting my friend Kim, who–for months now–has consistently invited me to hear her husband play live music at a local restaurant. To me this persistence sounds like, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” Isn’t it great when someone doesn’t give up on you? What’s better, isn’t it great when you don’t give up on yourself (no matter what anyone else or an old book says, no matter how long part of you has been in the closet), when you realize there’s plenty of time to work everything out, to grow and to find yourself, to love?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even if you can't be anything you want to be, you can absolutely be who you were meant to be. Don't let anyone else tell you differently.

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