The Gift of Indifference (Blog #977)

Today I’ve been thinking about power.

I’ll explain.

According to Caroline Myss, life is about power. To help people become aware of their own power, she often asks audience members, “Do you want my magic marker?” Of course, no one does. Think about it. Unless you have a strange fetish for Sharpies, it’s like, Whatever, lady, I don’t need your pen. I’m just fine without it. “THAT’S how you SHOULD feel when something has NO POWER over you,” she says.

Conversely, we all know what it feels like when something–or someone–HAS power over us. Yesterday I blogged about my being jealous of or wanting approval from other (in my opinion, better) swing dancers, and this is what I’m talking about, that feeling that you NEED something from someone else. If you personally don’t give a shit what some Lindy Hop guru thinks of you, good. Also, this illustrates that someone could easily HOLD POWER over me but BE A MAGIC MARKER to you. Still, even if this is the case, I guarantee there’s SOMETHING or SOMEONE you want something from, something or someone who pulls you out of your authenticity. Because that’s the deal. When you GIVE your power away to someone else, you quite literally give part of your life to them to manage for you. In the extremes this looks like being someone else’s whipping boy, bitch, or puppet, which is what the story of Pinocchio is about. At first anyone could make him do anything, but the more he listened to HIS conscience, the more REAL he became and the less others could control him.

Along these lines, how many times have you said, “I can’t, you decide”? Or, “What do YOU think I should do?”? I’m not saying it’s the end of the world to ask someone else’s opinion or advice, but when someone else says jump and you start hopping, that’s a problem. Here’s another, more specific way to dig into this. If you were going to move, change jobs, start a relationship, or, hell, go out to dinner tomorrow, whose approval would you need first? You might think this is a ridiculous question, and on one level it is. You shouldn’t need ANYONE’S approval to go to the International House of Pancakes. But on another level, we all know people who stay in miserable towns, jobs, and marriages because they’re afraid of disappointing their parents, spouses, friends, or god.

Recently I blogged about how one person can influence another (and to be clear, that influence can be positive just as well as negative), and used the example of a man my dad met in prison who introduced our family to the Old Testament Law. And whereas I could go on for days about how our lives changed thanks to this introduction, the long and the short of it is I stopped eating bacon. In terms of tonight’s conversation, I now see that I’d given my power away. Specifically, I gave up my POWER TO CHOOSE between a roast beef and ham sandwich. Instead, I let someone else (my dad’s friend, my dad, the Old Testament, God) do that for me. I did this because, as I told my chiropractor who deals with emotions today, “I was AFRAID God was going to WAX MY ASS if I didn’t obey him.”

“Wax your ass?” he said. “Now THAT would be an interesting sensation.”

At which point we both laughed.

Because this has been on my mind so much lately and because I think this is hugely important, here’s ANOTHER way to look at this issue of power. This afternoon I went to the Fort Smith Public Library for their annual rare and vintage book sale. (Y’all know I love a good book with an attractive cover.) Well, right off the bat I noticed an old set of eight illustrated books about the human body–the circulatory system, the nervous system, etc. And whereas I’m not a doctor or a biologist, I got sucked right in. The drawings are so pretty, I thought. The covers are gorgeous–pristine. And all for $35. But then I thought, You have no NEED for these, Marcus. And don’t kid yourself–you’re NEVER going to read them. So I put them down like a hot potato, browsed around the room, and ultimately walked away empty handed.

But of course I had my $35.

My point in telling this story is that we all know that googly-eyed feeling of being drawn in by a pretty object or person. This is what it feels like when your power LEAVES YOU. Again, I’m not saying it’s bad to desire something (it’s kind of fun actually), but I am saying–let’s be clear–anytime you start acting like Gollum from Lord of the Rings (I WANTS IT), you’re under a spell. If you get the thing–or person–home later and have buyer’s remorse, maybe you didn’t completely give away your power car, but you definitely gave up the wheel for a while.

My therapist says the natural state of the universe is neutral, and more and more neutrality is my goal. This looks like me being real middle-of-the-road about how much money I have, whether or not other people like me or want to take me to bed, and how the rest of the world perceives me. I have a friend in Alcoholics Anonymous who says that when thinking about people who have absolutely done you wrong, you don’t want to seething-hate them, but you don’t want to squishy-love them either. “Your goal is indifference,” they say. This is the same thing as being neutral.

You WANT them to be a magic marker.

If being indifferent sounds cold, maybe it is. My therapist says when it comes to money, she has ice water running through her veins. But what this really means is that she’s NOT ATTACHED to money or the things it can buy. That is, they have NO POWER over her. Consequently, she’s a badass business woman. So she can walk into a car dealership and, even if she adores a certain vehicle, if the price isn’t right, she can walk away. This is the gift of indifference. This is what neutrality really is, being empowered enough to not feel like you HAVE to buy the thing, take the miserable job, or do what someone else wants. It’s having YOUR power, YOUR spirit, at home in YOUR body and NOT somewhere else.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Whereas I've always pictured patience as a sweet, smiling, long-haired lady in a white dress, I'm coming to see her as a frumpy, worn-out old broad with three chins. You know--sturdy--someone who's been through the ringer and lived to tell about it.

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Come to the Middle of the Seesaw (Blog #299)

Today Mom had a bilateral mastectomy. The surgery lasted a few hours, and she had a hot doctor. (A hot, hot doctor.) Like, a very hot, hot doctor who went to and graduated from medical school, probably knows the difference between “your” and “you’re,” and didn’t have a ring on his finger. (I’m just sayin’.) In other important news, the surgery itself went well. The cancer had NOT spread to Mom’s lymph nodes. The anesthesia seemed to wear off fine, and when I last saw Mom this evening, she was being given “the good” pain medication. One of my aunts is staying with her tonight, and she should be home tomorrow. So, thank you, Jesus.

One of the good things about having a family member who has cancer, or who used to have cancer, is that people bring you food, and not a little of it. (If there’s a silver lining, I’m going to find it.) This afternoon my friend Bonnie brought my entire extended family chicken nuggets (and fruit and cookies AND coffee), with a variety of dipping sauces. I mean, if there’s any way to make sitting on your butt in a hospital waiting room for five or six hours any better, this is it. Oh, and she brought even more food to the house for dinner, the most important item being homemade cinnamon rolls. And whereas Mom is the one who actually has (or had) cancer and can’t have any solid food until tomorrow, I personally have been quite comforted by all the calories.

In addition to eating delicious food and visiting with family and friends, I spent most the day in the waiting room sending emails and Facebook messages. I’ve recently been brought on board as the marketing director for a large dance event, and my first goal is to get feedback about the event from those who have attended it in the past. So far it’s going well, but at some point today, my eyes started to glaze over. Like, I can only reach out to so many strangers and say, “Hello, I’m Marcus. Here’s what’s going on. Would you be willing to talk to me?” before it doesn’t feel genuine anymore (even though it is). I told Bonnie I felt like a door-to-door salesman, saying the same thing over and over again–

Unlike everyone else on Facebook, I’d actually like to hear your opinion!

This is something I never had the courage to do when I owned a business or ran my own dance event. Being so involved, I would have taken any negative or constructive feedback as purely destructive feedback. I would have taken everything too personally. But I don’t have that hangup with someone else’s event. I can listen to people’s stories–the good, the bad, and the ugly–as a neutral party. So far I’ve talked to about a dozen people, and it’s been fascinating. I’ll spare you the details, but as much as some people have been over-the-moon satisfied, others have, well, not been. Having professional distance from their personal experiences, I’m able to sort their feedback into two basic piles–This Problem Needs Fixing, and This Person Needs Fixing.

I think this is what a good therapist, even a good doctor, is able to do–step back and see what’s really going on. Once my therapist told me, “I’m basically just an observer of your life.” I can’t tell you what a difference this has made, having someone who’s not attached to my outcomes. As much as I love my friends and family, they weren’t “getting the job” done when it came to my mental and emotional health. First of all, it’s not their job to help me grow in that way. Second, most of them haven’t been trained with the proper skills to do so. Lastly, they’re simply too close to me, the way I’d be too close to them if we were talking about their personal growth. You know how it is when you’re too close–you interrupt each other, boss each other around, don’t believe each other’s compliments. You think, “I’m not beautiful. You’re just saying that because you’re my mother.”

This neutral party has been on my mind lately. (I recently blogged more about it here.) Obviously, that’s what mom’s hot doctor was today–a neutral party. Not that he doesn’t care about his patients, but he’s not so wrapped up in their personal stories that it affects his job. And whereas a patient or a family member might sweep a health problem under the rug or ignore a problem, a doctor would (ideally) be the last person to do that. Like my therapist or me in my role as marketing director, not being wrapped up in personal stories allows him to see clearly where the problems are and what can be done about them.

Even storms pass away.

I’m currently thinking of a seesaw. If you’re on either end of a situation, one minute you’ll be up and the next minute you’ll be down. But the neutral position is where you’re unmoved by whatever life throws at you. It’s steady even when the world isn’t. Additionally, if you stand in the middle of a seesaw, you realize that what’s up for one person is down for the next and that nobody stays up or down for very long. You see that life is always changing and everything circles ’round. I think this is the lesson of Jesus walking on the water. (Don’t try this at home, kids–it’s symbolic.) The storms of life raged all around him, but he wasn’t affected by them. Not that he didn’t see them, but he knew that “this too shall pass.” Even storms pass away. And because he’d found that neutral, steady, centered point within himself, then–and only then–was he able to reach out his hand and help another. “Keep your eyes on me,” he told Peter. In other words, “Come to the middle of the seesaw. Don’t be distracted by things that are always changing. Give your full attention to that which cannot and will not be moved.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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One thing finishes, another starts. Things happen when they happen.

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