The Super Blood Wolf Moon Eclipse and My Body (Blog #661)

Leave a comment January 20, 2019 CoCo

It’s 9:53 in the evening, and the total eclipse of the super blood wolf moon (yes, that’s actually a thing) started about twenty minutes ago and will last for the next three hours. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. Every several minutes I’m wrapping a blanket around my waist like a sarong, walking into our backyard, and checking it out. Thankfully, after weeks of clouds covering up the sun and stars, tonight the sky is clear. Maybe there’s a little haze, but even in the light of the full moon, I can still see The Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, Orion, and Canis Major (among others). And then there’s the eclipse. Eeek. This is more exciting than football.

For me at least.

Here’s a picture of the full moon a couple hours before the eclipse started.

Last summer I started a book called The Power of Your Other Hand by Lucia Capacchione, which suggests you can tap into your inner child, artist, writer, healer, and teacher by writing or drawing with your non-dominant hand. And whereas I was balls-to-the-wall into this book when I first got it, it’s been collecting dust for months now. Still, for whatever reason, I thought about it this afternoon and decided it was time to pick it back up, read a chapter, and do the suggested exercises, one of which involved dialoguing with my body by writing questions with my dominant hand (my right) and writing answers with my non-dominant one (my left).

Talk about talking to yourself.

For over an hour, I went through this process, asking questions of my body in general, my head and shoulders, my stomach, my knee, and my skin. Who or what are you? How do you feel? Why do you feel this way? What can I do to help you? And whereas I’ll spare you all the specific answers, I will say that my body apparently feels neglected and picked on (by me). For example, when I first asked about my headaches, it said, “I feel ignored. I am here to help. You put so much pressure on me to go and do and learn. You must like pressure. I mirror that, all your pushing.”

With this in mind, I’m really going to try to take it easier on myself, to stop asking my body to be something it’s not, like healthier, straighter (in terms of posture, not sexuality), or prettier/handsome-er. I truly can be so fucking demanding of myself. A real critical hard ass. A perfectionist. (Take your time to digest this information; I realize it may come as a surprise.) Sometimes when I see someone who’s beautiful, part of me thinks that means I’m not. But my body specifically asked me to stop comparing myself to other people or wishing to be “like him,” so my new mantra is I’m beautiful too.

Now it’s 10:57, and the moon is completely eclipsed by the earth’s shadow. Incidentally, it’s called a blood moon because it doesn’t absolutely disappear during the eclipse but rather glows red. It’s called a super moon because it’s closer to the earth than normal and therefore larger, and it’s called a wolf moon because the January moon is always called the wolf moon (because wolves howl at it?). Thus, Super Blood Wolf Moon Eclipse. Geez. What a mouthful. Anyway, the moon will be in totality (totally covered up) for about an hour, then it will begin to show again. And whereas I have zero desire to be outside for the entire affair, I do want to wrap this up so I can continue to go outside every five or ten minutes and see what’s going on. Plus, while the moon isn’t shining as bright, I’ll be able to see and identify more stars and constellations.

I’m seriously nerding out right now.

Just because I can’t help myself, here’s a little astronomy lesson. If you’re looking at the moon in the east, uh, before midnight tonight, you should be able to see two bright stars “above” it. These are Castor and Pollux, the two brightest stars in Gemini. Below and to the right of the moon, you’ll find Procyon, the brightest star in Canis Minor (The Lesser Dog). Then there’s Orion in the south (easily identified by the three stars in his belt), and and if you follow his belt “down,” you’ll find Sirius in Canis Major (The Greater Dog), Sirius being the brightest star in the night sky. Sirius is the reason we have the expression “the dog days of summer.” Since the sun tracks near Canis Major in the summer, the ancients believed the constellation’s brightest star added to the heat of our sun and, therefore, our days.

There’s a chance to start again.

Okay, I obviously went on a little bit of an astronomy rant there. I really do need to get going. Still, it occurs to me that an eclipse, at first sight, is an ominous event. In this case, all the light of the moon is slowly blacked out. One might think, What are we doing to do? But then just as surely as the light disappears, it comes back. Phew, what a relief. All is not lost. This reminds me that often things can seem bleak, but as long as we’re alive there’s a chance to gently start again–with ourselves, our bodies, and each other.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

A friend’s laughter takes us backward and carries us forward simultaneously.

Flipped Upside Down (Blog #595)

Leave a comment November 15, 2018 CoCo

It’s 7:55 in the evening, and I’m at the local Starbucks. I’m alone, and so far I’ve sat at three different tables. At the first one, I had a video chat with my sister and my nephews. Then, after deciding to stay to blog, I moved to a table with built-in electrical outlets so I could charge my laptop and phone. But the outlets didn’t work. Now I’m at the third and final table, scrunched up in a corner with a giant, not exactly energy-efficient window to my back. So I’m cold. But at least I’m all plugged in and am recharging.

The History of Where I Sat by Marcus Coker.

I’ve felt off for the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday’s therapy session was a lot. I mean, it brought up a lot, mostly around my issues with money and business. Those topics always makes me a little squeamish, although it has gotten better lately, a lot better. (Now I only half-shit myself when discussing money.) Anyway, I came home last night and baked a frozen pizza in order to help me process everything my therapist and I talked about. The only problem was that I left that round piece of cardboard under the pizza when I put it in the oven. (You’re not supposed to do this.) And whereas the cardboard didn’t catch on fire–phew!–it did keep the pizza from cooking properly. This really sucks, when you try to eat your feelings but can’t because you don’t have any kitchen skills.

“You have a lot of talents, Marcus, but cooking clearly isn’t one of them,” my dad said. “You can’t even bake a frozen pizza!”

“Is this you being an encouraging parent?” I replied. “Are we having a father-son moment–is that what’s going on here?”

Today, at least on the outside, has been pretty dandy. This afternoon I had lunch with a friend who made me laugh, laugh, laugh. Then later I had coffee with another friend, and when we discussed my hatred for winter and the fact that my outfit of choice is jeans and a t-shirt, they said, “When you dress appropriately for each season, it’s easier to enjoy them.” So I’m going to work on that, maybe get some thicker socks and a fluffy coat.

I really am trying to take steps to enjoy the colder weather and not be so miserable. Last night before falling asleep I rubbed lotion into my hands and elbows, since they always dry out during this time of year. There’s no reason to add to your suffering, I told myself. A little bit goes a long way. And it’s not like the fall and winter don’t offer up their wonders in exchange for the light and heat they take away. Last night after the pizza incident but before I went to bed, I ran to Walmart to get a new headlight bulb for my car, Tom Collins, since I’d noticed one of them had burned out. Then when I got home, I saw that the sky had cleared (it’s been cloudy at night for weeks), and that the stars were out.

Wow! There was Orion, and next to him Gemini, The Twins. Y’all, it’s been so long since I’ve really gotten to study the sky. All my favorite players from two months ago–Pegasus, Perseus, Triangulum–had all moved from east to west. It was so disorienting–everything that was “right side up” had flipped upside down. (This is the consequence of our earth’s rotation.) My brain didn’t know what to do. Still, all of it was gorgeous, and I actually got excited about what the next few months will gift me in terms of experiences like these, despite the cold package they’ll surely be delivered in.

I came to Starbucks to chat with my sister because I have a meeting online tomorrow and wanted to test out my laptop’s camera and microphone first. Thankfully, my sister agreed to be my guinea pig. And whereas I’d assumed we’d just talk long enough for me to know whether things on my end were working, we ended up talking for twenty-five minutes. There I was in the middle of Starbucks, carrying on a rather loud conversation with my laptop screen and honestly acting a fool, since my sister and I got silly, silly, silly. Anyway, the whole thing put me in the best mood.

It’s weird how you can make such a big damn deal about things in your head. Like, yesterday, I was really worked up about life, and that mood carried over until–sometime–this afternoon. And it’s not like I wasn’t trying to make it go away–I was using every trick I know to stop worrying. But then I quit trying and told myself, Just let it be, Marcus. Just be with the people you care about. Just be here now. Somewhere along the way, my anxiety lifted. Now I’m thinking, What was the big deal about, Marcus? Why all the fuss? It’s weird. Without my trying or even meaning to, me emotions have flipped upside down, like a constellation in the night sky.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

Nothing was made to last forever.

69 Months and Oh-So-Many Miles (Blog #561)

Leave a comment October 12, 2018 CoCo

Currently it’s seven in the evening. I’m been up and functioning since three-thirty this morning. I’m not kidding. Consequently, I don’t feel like writing. I’d rather be drinking a Budweiser and eating a bag full of chocolate-covered donut holes. Or sleeping. Sleeping would be nice. But instead I’m writing.

There’s not a donut hole in sight.

I should back up.

Last night I went to bed at eleven-thirty and got up four hours later in order to go with a friend to court–on the other side of the state–for a minor traffic violation. Well, for the accusation of a minor traffic violation, since America and innocent-until-proven-guilty and everything. Anyway, that’s their story.

This is mine.

After getting up, getting dressed, and scarfing down two scrambled eggs, I walked outside at four this morning to look for my friend. And whereas I didn’t see them, I did see the constellation Orion. And not that I’d wish anyone out of bed that early, but you should have been there. Around one in the morning Orion’s just on the horizon, but at four–wow!–he’s directly overhead. And whereas I’m dreading the impending winter, I’m looking forward to seeing this unmistakable figure–The Hunter–make his march across the heavens.

Oddly enough, my friend’s court appearance was in Forrest City, the same city in which my dad spent several years in federal prison. (He was a pharmacist. He gave some drugs away without prescriptions. That’s not allowed.) Anyway, he was originally sent to El Paso, so our visits were few and far between. But when he got transferred to Forrest City, that was only four-and-a-half hours away (228 miles in one direction, exit to exit), so our visits increased. I can’t tell you the number of times as a teenager that I got up by myself or with my sister at three-thirty, got dressed, scarfed down two scrambled eggs, and pointed my Honda Civic down Interstate-40 East toward Forrest City–

To go through a metal detector and see my dad in a visitation room.

I think the last time I actually stopped in Forrest City was that day in April 2001 when Dad was released and my mom, my sister, and I drove to pick him up. It’d been 69 months since he walked out our front door for El Paso. 69 months since he’d started teaching me to drive and someone else had to finish the job. 69 months and oh-so-many miles. How do you even describe such a day, a day you thought would never come? I can’t. All I knew and felt was that my dad was coming home.

Somehow–finally–Forrest City was in my rearview mirror.

Seventeen years. That’s how long it’s been since I last drove to Forrest City, much less at four in the morning, much less for anything related to breaking the law. (Um–for an accusation of breaking the law.) Anyway, this morning brought up a lot of memories, a lot of–um–uncomfortable feelings. On the one hand, I was quite aware–I’m thirty-eight now. There’s nothing intimidating or embarrassing about walking into a courthouse or going through a metal detector. But on the other hand, I felt like that teenager, the one who was in that courthouse the day 12 jurors all said, “Guilty,” the one who used to get up at four in the morning to walk through a metal detector and see his father sitting in a visitation room dressed in all forest green.

It’s funny how time can collapse so quickly. One minute you’re an adult standing next to Orion. You feel–free. The next minute you’re a teenager standing next to a guard with a gun on his belt. “Who are you here to see?” he says. You drop your head and say his name. You feel–intimidated.

This morning I was fully prepared to walk through a metal detector and sit in a courtroom with my friend, but something–heaven?–intervened. “The courtroom is full,” the disgruntled courthouse employee said. So I waited in the car and read a book. Part of me–honestly–was relieved. I hate courts, hate confrontation, and I knew my friend would be contesting their ticket. But then after I saw several people leaving, I thought, There’s more room now. Go inside, Marcus. This isn’t your fight anyway. But again, something intervened. The car alarm went off. Every time I tried to remove the key from the ignition–HONK, HONK, HONK.

So I stayed in the car.

Things worked out for my friend. Today was only an arraignment. Anyway, when my friend got back to the car, they fixed the alarm, but we discovered the battery had died. So we asked a couple for a jump, and they gladly said yes. The man helped my friend with the cables, and the lady sat in their car and pumped the gas. Personally, I did nothing–just stood outside the car, scrolled on my phone, and tried to look as if the whole affair weren’t my fault. Then just as the couple started to drive off, the lady smiled at me. Like, I don’t know, life was all right. I hope I never forget it–

That smile in Forrest City.

I’ve said before that I wouldn’t trade any of my challenging experiences. I mean that. Even the ones that were agonizing, embarrassing, or intimidating–I wouldn’t trade them even if I could. Because this is my story. This is my march across the heavens. (Hum.) Sometimes people tell me that I have a lot of courage–my therapist says I have big balls–to put my insides on the internet, or to dare to live life on my own terms. And whereas I’m not saying my current life is easy–fuck–it’s a chocolate-covered donut hole compared to those 69 months and oh-so-many miles, those 69 months and oh-so-many miles that still manage to suck me in after 17 years sometimes, but for which I am also mysteriously and profoundly grateful. Because of them, today I am strong beyond measure. My head is lifted. I can see the stars. People smile at me, and I smile back at them.