On Present and Potential Patterns (Blog #909)

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Several years ago there was a fad on Facebook that involved posting pictures of three fictional (TV or movie) characters that represent you. And whereas I resisted participating in this fad at first, I eventually caved. My three characters were 1) Charlie from Scent of a Woman, 2) Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh (or the Hundred Acre Wood), and 3) MacGyver from MacGyver. When I shared photos of these three characters, I captioned each picture with an explanation of WHY I identified with that particular character. This wasn’t part of the assignment. I just did it because my Inner Rabbit told me to. Rabbit, after all, is a Perfectionist, a Control Freak.

Guilty.

I’m talking about this now not only because my Facebook memories reminded me of this little project today, but also because lately I’ve been talking a lot (a lot) about archetypes and patterns of behavior. Which are basically the same thing. Specifically, I’ve been talking about how to change or transition from one pattern of behavior (like The People Pleaser) to another (like The Assertive Business Man). Robert Ohotto points out that you can never completely get rid of a pattern. (Shit. A part of me will always be a People Pleaser.) You can, however, DEACTIVATE an old, not-so-useful pattern and ACTIVATE a newer, shinier one. Recently I demoted a pair of workout shorts to painting shorts, so I no longer wear them to the gym. Rather, when I exercise, I wear a new pair. Same thing.

One thing that’s important to understand about gym shorts is that just because they’re ON you doesn’t mean they ARE you. That is, I’m currently wearing a pair of red shorts, but that doesn’t mean that I’m red–or nylon–or holey (or holy). Rather, I’m simply using (as in, making use of) these shorts. One day, I imagine, I won’t find them useful, so I’ll demote them to painting shorts too. My point is that archetypes and patterns of behavior work the same way as our clothes do. They’re something our soul uses as a way to navigate the world and to grow, but they’re not our soul, our essential essence. Earlier I indicated that I’m a Perfectionist and a Control Freak, but it would be more accurate to say that A PART of me is concerned with being perfect, or that I have A PATTERN or HABIT of being controlling.

I make this distinction because we often identify with our patterns to the point that we believe they (we) can’t change. This is, I suppose, because so many of our patterns develop at an early age and we get attached to them. Rightly termed, these patterns are survival strategies. Like, you’re probably a People Pleaser because as a child you figured out (unconsciously) that that was the best way to not be yelled at or get your name written on the chalkboard. I know that’s part of the reason I became The Good Student. I didn’t want to get in trouble. I didn’t want to get spanked. But just because I was a Teacher’s Pet at age thirteen, does that mean I need to be one at the age of thirty-nine? No. That would be ridiculous. You don’t wear the same pair of shorts your entire life.

Getting back to the Facebook fad I mentioned, I realized this morning that identifying fictional characters to whom you relate is one way to know which archetypes or patterns of behavior you currently have active. Oh my gosh, we love doing stuff like this. We take quizzes online that tell us what Harry Potter wizard we are, even what animal best represents us. And whereas this is all well and good, my point is that just because you’re running an archetype now doesn’t mean you have to run it the rest of your life. You may think of yourself as Moaning Myrtle, but–who knows?–you could transform into Hermione Granger. (These are both wizards, Mom.)

Along these lines, today I challenged my Facebook friends: List one fictional character that you think you ARE and another that you would LIKE TO BE. My answer was: I’m Charlie from Scent of a Woman, but I’d like to be Lt. Col. Frank Slade, also from Scent of a Woman. What I meant was–at least historically–I’m bookish, a bit naive, hesitant, and loyal. I have a hard time speaking up. Like Charlie. However, I often fantasize about being brash, rude, outspoken, filthy, and unconcerned with the opinions of others (as in, Fuck you too). Like Lt. Col. Frank Slade.

Hooah!

I didn’t say it when I posted my challenge to Facebook, but here’s what I was thinking. Just as listing characters with whom you identify is one way to pinpoint your CURRENTLY ACTIVE archetypes, listing characters with whom you’d LIKE TO IDENTIFY is one way to pinpoint your CURRENTLY DORMANT archetypes. Said differently–and pay attention because this is important–it’s one way to know what your POTENTIAL is. What pair of shorts you COULD be wearing if you were only willing to take your old ones off. For me, the key is asking, What characters am I DRAWN TO? I think Jamie Lee Curtis was fabulous in True Lies, but I don’t want to BE her, like ever. I don’t daydream about doing that strip routine for Arnold. You know, the one where she reaches for the bedpost, misses, and falls on her ass. But I DO daydream about being Lt. Col. Frank Slade, about having big enough balls to speak the truth, call bullshit, and let the chips fall where they may.

Again, the idea here is that if you have A DRAW to a pattern of behavior, there’s a STRONG POSSIBILITY that pattern already exists within you. It’s just a seed that needs to be watered and tended before it can become a tree. Today my friend Chelsea commented that she wanted to be Molly Weasley (another wizard, Mom) because Molly is a strong mother. Well, my friend Kira told Chelsea, “You’re totally Molly Weasley.” In other words, Molly Weasley doesn’t exist OUTSIDE of Chelsea, she exists INSIDE of her. She can see it, others can see it. Likewise, Lt. Col. Frank Slade already exists in me and–quite frankly–has been coming out more these last few years in terms of my learning to be assertive. Of course, for this to happen, Good Ole People Pleaser Charlie has had to sit down and shut up.

Here’s one last thing that I find fascinating. When this fictional-character fad went around Facebook originally, it seemed like everyone was doing it. At the very least, a lot of people were. However, when I posted my challenge today, only two of my friends played along. Two out of over two thousand. You do the math. Now, personally, I don’t give a shit (a la Lt. Col. Frank Slade) if people participate in my games or not. That’s not why I’m here. At the same time, I think it’s notable that we’re quick to identify and even brag about our CURRENT PATTERNS (People Pleaser, Control Freak, Creative, Book Worm) but not so quick to identify our POTENTIAL PATTERNS (The Fiscally Responsible and Grown Ass Adult).

Why aren’t we quick to identify our POTENTIAL PATTERNS, Marcus?

I’m glad you asked.

Because if I tell you I’d like to be Lt. Col. Frank Slade, that’s a bit like announcing I’d like to lose fifteen pounds. In other words, as soon as you IDENTIFY your potential, whether you realize it or not, you’ve ACTIVATED your potential. You’ve set a goal IN MOTION. This means a couple things. First, you’ve got a lot of work to do. (Pounds don’t drop themselves.) If you say you’re like Blanche on The Golden Girls, well fine. Party on, sister. But if you say you WANT TO BE Maria in The Sound of Music, you’re going to have to start by closing your legs. This is why we’re wishy washy when people ask us where we’d like to be in five years. Because it takes work to get from here to there, and most of us don’t like working (or closing our legs). Second, setting a goal IN MOTION means things are about TO CHANGE. Caroline Myss says we know this deep down, and it’s why we’ll read other people’s books (or blogs) about transformation but never take the first step for ourselves. If I’d known when I started therapy just how many of my old, not-so-useful patterns (and the relationships they got me into) would have to die in order for me to live, I’m not sure I would have started. Looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your potential is always better than your present, I promise.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Sickness and health come and go, just like everything else. It's just the way life is."

On Dead Batteries and Patterns (Blog #889)

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This morning I began painting a client’s fence and ended up spending all day–eight hours–completing the task. And whereas the project, which involved rolling and brushing two coats of sealant on the fence, went well, both the hot sun and the labor wore me out. Seriously, I can’t tell you how done I was when it was all over. In more ways than one.

I’ll explain.

Before I stained the fence, my client and I agreed on a price. No issues there. But we also agreed on another price for me to take down no small number of decorations that were on the fence (because they didn’t want to take them down, and I obviously couldn’t work around them). Anyway, that was the original question–“What would you charge me to take this stuff down?” Again, we agreed on a price. Well, today when I finished the fence, they said, “Now you just need to put the stuff back up, and I’ll give you a check.”

I paused then said, “Let me put my things in the car, and we can talk about that.”

On my way to the car, I talked to Jesus. By this I mean I thought about how I was going to respond. The old me would have sucked it up, put the shit back on the fence, and effectively cut my rate in half. But the new me knew that if I did the work without additional pay, I’d end up resenting this person I’m currently on good terms with. So when I got back from the car, I said, “We agreed on this price for the fence, and that price for taking the stuff down, but nothing was said about putting it back up.”

“Well I just assumed,” she said.

“That’s not a good thing to do,” I replied. “If you’d asked me to take the stuff down and put it back up, my quote would have been twice as much.” Then I added, “As things stand, I’ve done everything we discussed.”

For a moment they didn’t say anything, at which point I said, “Why don’t you think about this, and I’ll be right back.”

When I returned, we agreed–I’d put the stuff back up, and they’d pay me for my time.

Recently I blogged about checking in with yourself before having important conversations (especially about money), and I’m using this as a real-life example of how it can work. When I checked in with myself, I knew I needed to confront. Did I love doing it? No. My inner people pleaser was on the floor in the fetal position screaming, Don’t make them mad. But my inner business man, y’all, was online, ready and able to speak calmly and clearly, ready to let the chips fall where they may.

This evening my friend Justin helped me–how do I say this delicately?–put a dead dog in a trash bag. Obviously, for the dog’s owner, someone I care deeply about, this was a sad event. And whereas I admit it was sad for me when I got there, it was mostly another odd job. Get the dog out of the dog house and into the trash bag. Well, Justin propped his phone up and turned his flashlight on (don’t worry, I’m not going to go step-by-step through what happened), and I said, “I have a light in my car.” But damn if not one but both of my flashlights’ batteries were dead too. Ugh, today is seriously the day of death. This evening I found out a dear acquaintance is in hospice.

After Justin and I got the job done (in the semi-dark), we went back to his house and visited, and it was only after I got home (at two in the morning) that I realized the synchronicity of the dog dying and my batteries dying too. Anyway, I’ve been chewing on it, since the idea behind synchronicity isn’t that one thing causes another thing to happen, but that two related things happen at the same time–and here’s the important part–to convey meaning. So I’ve been thinking about the meaning of the dead batteries.

For me, flashlights help you through the dark. They help you see clearly. They show you the way. Batteries, however, are what charge flashlights–they are the source of power behind that which allows you to see clearly. Well, lately I’ve been talking about changing old patterns (old batteries) for new ones, and I think this is just another way of saying the same thing. Old batteries, old patterns can’t last forever. They weren’t designed to. Yesterday I talked about seeing clearly, and I think it’s important to say again–how clearly you see others is a direct result of how clearly you see yourself. That is to say, how clearly you see your patterns. For example, today my client didn’t choose to directly ask me to put their stuff back up, but rather assumed I would and conveyed this in their full-of-assumption statement about my coming back to do more work. Well, the only reason I could see this for what it was is because I used to assume constantly, especially when it came to money.

Consequently, I got screwed a lot.

And not in a good way.

While painting today I listened to a spiritual-type podcast in which a guest told the host she’d been working on not shaming herself and had just been asked to shame someone else as part of a politics-related job interview. “What should I do?” she said. “Is just makes me sick.” Well, the host said they thought her feeling sick was a good indicator of how she felt about the job offer. They also said that sometimes the universe tests us. Said another way, sometimes life gives us opportunities to step out of old patterns and into new ones. I’m not going to shame myself or others–period. I’m not going to let people walk all over me. Sometimes life gives you a chance to change your dead batteries for new ones.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

If life can create a problem, it can also provide an answer.

"

On Updating Your Software (Blog #876)

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Phew. It’s been a day. This afternoon I ran some errands, fixed a friend’s dishwasher, downloaded some material for an online course I’m taking, and wrote a blog for someone else (for money!). Then this evening I had dinner with my parents and later installed a chandelier for a friend. This last task took forever. Installing chandeliers almost always does. No two jobs are ever the same. Honestly, I think tonight’s job would have gone easier if I knew in the beginning what I knew in the end–that the wire needed to be so long, the chain needed to be so long, and so on. But these are things I could only find out by experimenting. That’s the deal. My inner slave driver gives me shit for not knowing things there’s no way I could know.

Stop that, inner slave driver.

Now it’s two in the morning, and I’m trying to give myself a break by blogging short. I have to be up in several hours to help my dad kick off his birthday (happy birthday, Dad) by going to the donut shop (his favorite place and one I don’t hate). So I’ll get right to the point.

Since I’m not done with the painting job I’ve been working on lately, I could have painted today. But I needed a rest. My body’s been hurting, and my sinuses have been irritated from all the fumes. Plus, I needed time to run around, to do other jobs. This afternoon I actually thought I’d blog early so I could rest more tonight. But then I installed a software update for my laptop, and the entire process took thirty minutes, which didn’t leave me enough time to write. So here I am now. Anyway, it occurred to me during my laptop’s software update that we all need a software update now and then. That is, most of us are running mental and emotional programs we picked up as children. Tonight the friend I hung the chandelier for said he was so insistent on everything being just so (you should see the two of us together) because his parents used to vacuum themselves out of their house so there wouldn’t be any footprints in the carpet.

Think about that!

My point is that here my friend is, decades later, running his life on an old program. This isn’t a judgment; it’s an observation. Plus, I’m the same way. I really gave myself a tough time for not having things all figured out with the chandelier from step one, and this is typical for me–to insist on perfection. This is an impossible standard, of course, and the fact is I could just as easily be patting myself on the back for trying and learning new things. Because no one ever taught me how to hang a chandelier. I just got curious about it one day, and if it were anyone else doing that, I’d think it was pretty cool.

Way to go, me.

Back to the software analogy, I do think that since starting therapy I’ve been updating my mental and emotional patterns. I’m not nearly as tough on myself (or others) as I used to be, and when I am I let things go more quickly. When I mess up, when I’m not perfect, I don’t imagine that the consequences will be the-sky-is-falling awful. As I recently heard–shit happens, and I’m still enough. This is the biggest software update I think we all need, a shift to the idea that no matter what happens–no matter what–we’re enough, we’re enough, we’re enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

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.

"

On Patterns and Parts (Blog #874)

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Today I was supposed to see my therapist then see my acupuncturist. And whereas I did see my therapist, I totally spaced out about my acupuncturist. Well, not totally. I remembered thirty minutes before my appointment. But then I went to the bank and the thought evaporated. I don’t have anything to do until this evening, I thought, so I ended up going to an antique store then to a coffee shop. Finally, forty-five minutes into what would have been my acupuncture session, I remembered. Oh crap, I thought, and called their office. However, no one answered. So I left a message.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what happened.”

After hanging up, my first inclination was to feel bad, to beat myself up for not remembering. But then I reminded myself that you can’t remember what you can’t remember, and it’s not like I on-purpose tried to screw anyone over. I also reminded myself that this isn’t a habit of mine. I hardly ever miss appointments. I’m typically–what’s the word?–reliable.

About an hour later, I got a call back. It was fine, they said, shit happens (my words). “We can reschedule for next week,” they said. “Although it’s possible someone could no-show today.”

“What are the chances TWO PEOPLE would do that in ONE DAY?” I said.

“You’d be surprised,” they said.

Actually, having run a dance studio for eleven years, I wouldn’t be.

But I digress.

Lately I’ve been talking a lot about patterns of thought and behavior and parts of one’s personality. For example, most of us have an inner perfectionist and/or an inner self-critic. These are the voices that started to come online for me this afternoon when I realized I’d missed my appointment. However, and I don’t mean to make this sound like it was easy, I simply wouldn’t let them. You know how sometimes part of you (your inner child) wants to eat a piece of cake, but another part of you (your inner adult) puts its foot down and says no? Well, it was like that. My inner adult said, “We are not going beat ourselves up over this. Clearly we weren’t meant to be there today. We’re always saying things happen for a reason, and now’s our chance to act like it.”

“But what if they don’t like us?” my inner people pleaser said.

“That’s their problem,” my inner adult said. “At least we like us.”

My point in sharing my internal dialogue is to drive home three points. First, patterns and parts that we find undesirable (like perfectionism or people pleasing) never disappear completely. (Only a perfectionist would want them to). This is a good thing. Tonight I bought flowers for some friends and spent ten minutes getting the length of the stems just right so the flowers wouldn’t be top heavy and cause the vase to fall over. Boy was I ever glad to have my perfectionist around THEN. Which leads me to my second point. Patterns and parts need guidance (self-leadership is the term Richard C. Schwartz uses) from you as to WHEN to either show up or shut up. (This takes practice.) Lastly, if you’re wanting to change or transform a pattern or part, you need a different pattern or part to take its place. For example, your adult could step in for your child, and your king or queen could step in for your people pleaser (because kings and queens don’t find their self-worth in the opinion of others–they know their value is inherent).

Other than my missing my appointment, the day went great. Actually, better than great. I had fun at the antique store, I got caught up with an online class at the coffee shop, I chatted with one of my best friends on the phone, and I had dinner with other friends this evening. This is another way to work with patterns and parts you want to gear down. When the day is over, take an objective inventory. Ask yourself, “Would things have gone better if I’d beaten myself up (more)?” In my case, the answer is always no. Self-flagellation never makes things better. However, understanding and accepting ever part of myself does. What’s more, when I understand and accept every part of myself, I don’t have to “force” myself to change. Rather, change happens on its own (over time). This is the power of becoming conscious of your own patterns and behaviors. It’s like, When I beat myself up, that hurts. So you stop doing it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

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.

"

Reverse, NEUTRAL, Drive (Blog #859)

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Two nights ago I threw up everything I’d eaten for the previous week. It was nasty. Thankfully, I haven’t thrown up since. I have, however, been dragging ass. Yesterday I spent all day in bed. Today, by the grace of God, I only spent half the day in bed. My energy is noticeably better–I took a shower today!–but it’s still not fabulous. This evening I taught a dance lesson and thought, I think I’m perking up, then I came home and promptly merged my ass with the couch. Ugh. You just can’t heal any faster than you do.

Ain’t that the truth, Ruth?

Normally when I’m sick I’m pretty impatient. I want to heal NOW. And whereas, of course, I’d like to feel better on the lickety-split, I’ve noticed this time around that I’ve been able to let things unfold at their own pace. I keep thinking of how for two hours Sunday night I felt nauseated and then how–all of a sudden–I was on the bathroom floor vomiting. It was so fast, so violent. My point is that my body was clearly ON IT, working swiftly to remove whatever was bothering us. Y’all, I’ve given my body a lot of crap over the years, and yet right there on the cold tile I had all this proof that my body was on my side. Clearly my immune system is like one of those muscle-y bouncers at da club. It’s ready to throw any offending party out on its rear.

Like, get the hell out. And stay out.

Now, do I wish that I’d thrown up Sunday night and felt better immediately? Of course. But in truth, I have felt better–progressively better. And when you consider that my body was just poisoned or otherwise invaded–and that in throwing out the bad guys my stomach also had to throw out some good guys–it makes sense that it would take a few days for things to regain their balance. Even if it takes a week, what’s the big deal? Few things in life can’t wait a week.

This perspective, that my body is actually on my side and constantly working to help me, helps make the healing process more bearable. Recently I heard that when things aren’t going well in your life, it may be because you’re in a time of transition. When I’m teaching dance I often compare a series of three steps to “reverse, neutral, and drive,” meaning the first step goes back, the second step stays in place, and the third step goes forward. My point in teaching it this way is to emphasize that each step is important–even the neutral one that doesn’t “go” anywhere. Anyway, lately I’ve been thinking about how important the neutral phases in our lives are.

I’ll explain.

A while back I had a confrontation that wasn’t fun for me. And although it wasn’t fun, it felt good to not bite my tongue. It felt good to be honest and let the chips fall where they may, where they needed to. When I discussed this confrontation with my therapist she said, “I imagine there will come a day when you’ll be negotiating a business deal, and this skill of speaking your truth and standing your ground will come in handy. So just think of this as practice.”

I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this advice, the idea that although my current circumstances aren’t glamorous, they may be preparing me for something better down the line. Lately I’ve been reminded of the adage, “If you want the things in your life to change, you have to be willing to change the things in you life.” To me this means that if you want your life to be different, YOU have to be willing to be different. Of course, like healing, personal change doesn’t happen overnight. It’s something that comes in stages. The future you is something you grow into a little bit here, a little bit there.

Recently I blogged about changing patterns, and this is basically what I’m talking about tonight. Applied to my example about confronting someone, you could say that I USED to have a pattern of letting myself be walked on like a door mat (reverse), but that for the last few years I’ve been 1) letting that pattern die out and 2) letting a new pattern develop–speaking up for my damn self (neutral)–so that I’ll be better able to navigate the rest of my life (forward). Y’all, my therapist is probably the most outspoken and confrontational person I know, but she says she used to be quiet as a church mouse. Well, shit, she didn’t just wake up loud and boisterous one day. She had to work at it. She too had to go through a neutral phase.

More and more, I’m appreciating the neutral phase, the transitional phase, the healing phase. I think when you realize there’s a point to it, it’s easier to sit with, patiently. When you remodel and redecorate a room, you have to let the paint dry before you hang the curtains. Otherwise you’ll have a damn mess. Likewise, when you want an entirely different life, you have to let your old one (your old patterns) dry up first. I mean, what would happen if you were a people pleaser and all of a sudden inherited a bunch of money? That’s right–goodbye money. Why? Because your pocketbook changed but YOU didn’t. So if it feels like you’re stuck and not going anywhere–good. Chances are you’re being given a chance to change, to learn something new, to heal. Take heart. Be patient. Your time is coming.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

Our world is magical, a mysterious place where everything somehow works together, where nothing and no one is without influence, where all things great and small make a difference.

"

On Changing Your Patterns (Blog #848)

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This morning, before I’d even gone to the restroom, I returned a missed call from the garage where I get my oil changed. Yesterday I dropped off my car, Tom Collins, at the garage and found out I needed a new set of tires. That’s always fun. But my tires weren’t the reason they called today. Instead I was told that dear Tom ALSO needs new struts. Fortunately, I already knew this. Well, sort of. My regular mechanic told me a few weeks ago that one of my struts was leaking and that he could fix it for x amount of dollars. But since I didn’t have x amount of dollars (that I wanted to spend) on car repairs at that red hot moment, I told him to wait.

But back to the phone call this morning. THAT mechanic told me that one of my struts was leaking and that–really–I should just replace the whole front suspension. “I can do that for you,” he said, “for x amount plus 200 dollars. And don’t worry, I’ve replaced 50 of those things before and have never had one come back on me.”

“Well, the truth is that I’ve already gotten a quote for that,” I said, “and they were 200 dollars cheaper.”

“Was that quote for one strut or for both?”

Hum.

“You know, I don’t know. I’d have to ask him.”

Now, in my mind, there wasn’t anything else to say. HOWEVER, the guy on the other end of the phone kept talking, pushing. “Is your guy going to replace just the hydraulic shaft or also the spring? Because I’ll replace everything–on both sides,” he said.

“As I just said, I don’t know.”

“Well, you should ask your mechanic,” he said, then started talking about labor. “And I know we’re more expensive on hourly, but I can get this done in two hours, and that’s not much.”

At this point I’d had enough. I hate being told what to do. I hate pushy, needy, I’m-great-just-ask-me kind of people. I still had to pee. So I did something I rarely do–I interrupted the asshole.

“I appreciate the information,” I said, “but I’m done with this conversation.”

“Okay,” he said, then hung up.

Then I hung up.

Fifteen minutes later the secretary at the garage called.

“Your car is ready.”

A word that’s been coming up for me lately is PATTERNS. No kidding, it’s shown up in multiple books I’ve been reading, on podcasts I’ve listened to, and has even been mentioned by friends. Usually this in-my-face approach is a sign the universe wants me to learn something. At least that’s how I take it. Anyway, the idea is that if you want something to change in your life, it’s not just a matter of changing that one thing. Rather, it’s about changing, or at least being willing to change, a whole host of things. Because everything in life is connected. Said another way, if you want different results, you have to be willing to alter (read: sacrifice) your current patterns and allow new ones to take their place.

How do I explain this? If you brush your teeth every day, that’s a habit. If you always use the same type of toothbrush, that you buy at the same store and keep in the same place on your counter, and you always floss before and rinse and spit afterwards, that’s a pattern. If you brush, then wash your face, then take your nighttime meds, then put on your pajamas, that’s a pattern. Also, it’s a ritual. And if you don’t think even a “little” ritual like this is a big deal, try changing yours by doing everything you normally do in reverse. Or let your friend or lover teach you a new way of brushing your teeth, folding your clothes, or loading the dishwasher, then never go back to your way again. See if you don’t put up a fuss.

Maybe a big one.

The idea here is that we create rituals in order to manage some part of our psyche (and this is why we don’t easily change them). Caroline Myss says you could go through daily rituals and directly correlate each one to one of your seven chakras. You lock your doors for your survival (chakra one), you wear cute underwear for your sexuality (chakra two), you check the mirror for broccoli in your teeth for your self-esteem (chakra three) and so.

Many rituals, of course, involve other people. Our patterns definitely do. For example, recently I was in a pattern of going to see my chiropractor every two weeks. However, when my insurance benefits (for chiropractic and physical therapy) ran out because I’d use so many visits for physical therapy after my knee surgery, I went to a different (more affordable) chiropractor. On the surface this seems like a small choice, but there’s no such thing. That is, my decision to change chiropractors not only affects where I drive every week or two, but also affects the amount of money each chiropractor (and even their staff) makes. It affects the quality of care I get (because each chiropractor approaches the body differently). Because my second chiropractor wants to take dance lessons, my small decision ultimately influences how he and his wife will spend time together, where they may go out on Friday nights, whom they may meet there.

I’m going on about all this to drive home a couple points. First, little things can be big things. If you grabbed a corner of your shirt and twisted it, then kept twisting, eventually you’d see an effect up to your shoulder. This is because your shirt itself is a pattern, a woven tapestry, and you can’t change one part without changing the rest. This is how your life and relationships work. In terms of my interaction with the garage mechanic this morning, it may seem like a little thing for me to have interrupted him and voiced my frustration, but for me it was big huge because I’ve never done anything quite like that before. My pattern historically has been to not interrupt, to be nice, to go along to get along, to let it go. But by changing my reaction in one interaction, that means it will be easier to change it in others. Plus, I’ll carry around less internal frustration–because when you’re honest and direct rather than insincerely polite, you undo emotional knots rather than create them.

In other words, I laid the groundwork for a new pattern today.

Tonight I heard Robert Moss, who’s an expert on dreams and dreaming, say that sometimes our dreams alert us to new ways of being, new possibilities. Like, the last few years I’ve had a bunch of dreams about being aggressive, even yelling. So, according to Moss, that’s a part of my psyche that wants to emerge–a more forceful Marcus. Recently I blogged about the benefit of doing things symbolically. An example is that this afternoon I mowed my parents lawn and instead of doing it the way I always do, I mixed it up. Instead of mowing this section then that section, I did that section then this section. Instead of using diagonals lines, I used horizontal and vertical lines. Nothing “huge,” but it served the same purpose as my cutting off the pushy mechanic did. Both were my way of communicating to my unconscious–I am willing to change my patterns. I am willing to do things differently. I am willing to get different results.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just because your face is nice to look at doesn’t mean you don’t have a heart that’s capable of being broken. These things happen to humans, and there isn’t a one of us who isn’t human.

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Ignorance Is Not Bliss (Blog #789)

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Today was therapy and therapy day. First I saw my regular therapist, then I saw my physical therapist. Now I’m so healthy I can’t stand myself. One of the techs at physical therapy noted that I was “still coming.” My physical therapist said, “He’s addicted to the pain.” I said, “I’m addicted to the progress.” This is what I’d say about regular therapy too–by simply showing up and doing the work, I realize consistent positive results.

Why wouldn’t I keep going?

Two weeks ago at physical therapy I hopped on one leg for the first time. And whereas it wasn’t pretty, it was something. Today that exercise was easier. Still not pretty, but easier. Then I jumped off a step with two legs and landed on one leg (my left, the one I had surgery on). “Like hopscotch,” my physical therapist said.

“Uh–it’s been few years,” I said.

“You know you’re in a hopscotch league,” another physical therapist chimed in.

“Yes, and I also do double-dutch jump rope on Saturdays,” I answered.

Landing on one leg was rough–shaky–but thankfully there was a rail to grab so I wouldn’t fall over. Shaky–that’s a good way to explain my experience with knee rehab. Sometimes my entire body quakes and quivers when I’m trying to lower myself down into a chair using only my left leg. Even still, I see progress. Today while lowering myself into a chair, I had more control than I’ve ever had since my injury (I tore my ACL six months ago). Also, with each new exercise, like the one-leg hopscotch landing, both my mind and body become less afraid. It’s like, Okay, we can do this.

At regular therapy, my therapist and I discussed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I read an article about OCD recently that said sometimes it takes the form of “information hoarding.” Well, you know how you can Google a health problem and all of a sudden convince yourself you have a deadly disease? Since I download, buy, and borrow books faster than I can read them, I thought, I have that. I’m an information hoarder. My therapist said, “I don’t think you’re as extra as you think you are. You’re not hurting anyone, and you’re not cancelling social engagements or missing work to stay home and download books, play video games, or wash your hands. When you get to the point that your books are piled up so high that you can’t walk in your house, then come back and talk to me about having OCD.” Then she added, “Personally, I think more people could buy a few books.”

Right?

Along the lines of people being uneducated, my therapist said, “People say that ignorance is bliss, but that’s a really ignorant statement.” Then she explained that when people lead unexamined lives, sure, there’s a certain “what I don’t know won’t hurt me” happiness in that. “But the price of self-ignorance is strife, drama, passive aggressiveness, anger, anxiety, and internal tension,” she said.

Among other things.

In terms of self-ignorance, I don’t know many people–myself included–who would gladly admit, Gosh, I don’t know much about myself. For an answer as to why, I harken back to a recent question I asked (and have often asked along The Path)–How can you know what you don’t know? Simply put, you can’t. I’ve mentioned before that I took reiki and meditation classes for years from an excellent teacher who talked about boundaries consistently. And whereas I remember hearing what she said, it didn’t sink in. It never occurred to me that my boundaries were off, even though–I can see now–they were. Likewise, despite a number of less-than-ideal relationships (both platonic and intimate), I never realized I was repeating PATTERNS, going through the same drama over and over, just with different characters. Despite my constantly reading self-help books, it took my working with a therapist (a trained professional) for me to see these things.

In my experience, you’re probably not going to wake one morning and–bam!–suddenly identify the unproductive patterns in your life and WHY they are there in the first place. Sure, you may intellectualize that your mother did this or your father did that, but chances are you won’t be able to draw a line from your childhood relationships and situations to your current relationships and situations. Not because you’re stupid, but because they don’t call it the UNCONSCIOUS for no reason. So how do you know what you don’t know? How do you bring the UNCONSCIOUS up? Simply put, you look for signs then work backwards.

I’ll explain.

Things that are unhealthy leave their mark.

Recently my car, Tom Collins, has been making a squeaking noise. Since we’ve been through this before, I know the squeaking means I need at least one new brake pad. (I should probably do something about that.) My point is that when something is wrong, there’s usually evidence of it. When you’re sick, you’ll either feel tired, get a runny nose, start bleeding out of your ears, or whatever. Like a slug that leaves a trail of slime behind it, Things That Are Unhealthy leave their mark. This same principle applies to one’s mental, emotional, and relational health. That is, if there’s something that needs your attention, your subconscious will create flare signals. It will SEND UP stress, anxiety, nervousness, conflict, and any number of other uncomfortable feelings in an effort to get you to check yourself out (rather than be checked out–or self-ignorant).

I started therapy because I was in a terrible (horrible, no-good, very bad) relationship. Looking back, that relationship was a distress signal. And whereas I could have blamed the other person (and did) or simply told myself that all my uncomfortable feelings were “normal,” I was so miserable that I had to do something about it. I had to do something about MYSELF. Because that’s the deal–if you’re arguing with the people in your life or things aren’t working at work, the answer starts with you. Only YOU can do something about YOUR problems. At the very least, I think, you have to ask yourself, Why am I willing to entertain this bullshit? In my case, I thought, What is wrong with me that I’m ATTRACTED to someone who lies and cheats (and lies and cheats some more)?

From there, I worked backwards. With my therapist, I identified A HISTORY OF PATTERNS. Slowly, we worked at breaking those patterns, at setting boundaries first with myself then with others. And I do mean slowly. Just like learning to hopscotch again doesn’t happen overnight, you don’t become self-enlightened overnight. I’m not sure it can even be done in one lifetime. Caroline Myss says, “Consciousness is expensive.” This means that becoming self-aware and self-possessed is hard work, The Hard Work. This is why people say ignorance is bliss–because they don’t want to put in the effort. They want to believe that they can “go along to get along” or simply “accept Jesus as their personal lord and savior” and not have to work out their salvation with fear and trembling. This truly is ignorance. You don’t learn to double-dutch jump rope without putting the time in.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t change what happened, but you can change the story you tell yourself about it.

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