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)

"We were made to love without conditions. That's the packaging we were sent with."

Trying to Keep Both Hands Open (Blog #95)

I’m just going to say it. My mood sucks. I mean, if you were here, I’d be pleasant because it’s not your fault, but I’d be faking it. Some muscle in my back spasmed all last night. When I woke up, my neck hurt in a few new places. The pain comes and goes, and I can’t very well turn to the left. (Zac Efron, please come around to my right side so I can see you.) As Grandpa used to say, I’m stiff in all the wrong places. From the shoulders up, I’m so rigid that I feel as if I’m turning into Pinocchio–the boy made out of wood.

Today was a day for adulting, something I particularly loathe when I don’t feel well. It’s like I just want to hide under the covers and let someone else handle things, let someone else take care of me. Of course, I’m thirty-six and too much of a control freak to let that happen. The insurance company called today with an estimate of what my car is worth–or rather–isn’t worth. Considering how old it is, I guess the amount is all right, but it’s not really enough to buy something comparable. I spoke with a friend who works in claims, and he gave me another, slightly higher estimate. So I’m officially in “negotiations,” which I know sounds very suit-and-tie, but actually happened while I was in my pajamas.

This afternoon I picked up a rental car, which I can use until the property claim is settled. (That’s me and part of the car in the above photo.) The lady from the insurance company said, “You can use it up to two days after the check is cut. If that sounds short, it’s because it is.” (How’s that for honesty?) I said, “Two days really isn’t much time to find and buy a new car.” She said, “I know.”

One of my friend’s recommended a car lot he and his family have used longer than I’ve been alive, so I stopped by there after picking up the rental car. The guy was super helpful, seemed like a straight-shooter. He had one car, a Ford Focus, with a reclaimed title that he said he could sell me for about what the insurance company was offering. I may go drive it tomorrow. But–honestly–I don’t want a Ford Focus. He also said he’s got an SUV arriving later this week that sounds pretty great, but it’s more than the amount of the insurance money. I haven’t seen the vehicle yet, but all evening I’ve been doing that practicality versus desire thing because I could really see myself in an SUV.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Last night before I went to bed, I smoked a cigarette and threw the rest of the pack in the toilet because I was flat out of willpower and knew what would happen if I didn’t. I waited a minute to flush it, so I got to see a nice stream of tar and nicotine seep out each cigarette and run to the bottom of the bowl. Disgusting, I thought. But all day I’ve been thinking I should have immediately fished them out and used a hairdryer to bring them back to life. What a waste, I’m currently thinking. This is what nicotine can do to a person. One minute you love it, the next minute you hate it. Desire comes and goes.

Here’s a picture of me and my friend Mary Anne. It was taken at the Greenwood Junior Cotillion as part of a patriotic-themed Halloween event. I include it now because 1) I need a picture, 2) tomorrow is July 4th, and 3) I currently feel anything but free. So–irony.

In order to distract myself from my cravings, tonight I watched two-thirds of a three-hour movie called Titus. My friend Justin recommended it, and I just have to say, “What the hell?” It’s a sort-of-modern day take on a Shakespeare tragedy, which–I think–is hard enough to understand without adding in murdering, raping gladiators who smoke cigarettes (nicotine!) and play video games. I wanted to throw my laptop across the room. This sort of ignorance happened with one of Justin’s other movie suggestions recently, so I’m officially revoking his cinema-recommendation privileges as of this moment.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

Tonight I went to Walmart for coffee filters because I’m out and can only handle so many frustrations and challenges in one day. This may not come as a surprise because–Arkansas–but people were shooting off fireworks in the parking lot. Inside I picked up the coffee filters, some bananas, and two cans of vegetarian baked beans for tomorrow and headed to the check-out. Well, I had such a “screw the world” attitude that I actually stepped in front of an old lady who got to the line at the same time I did. Her basket is full, I thought. I only have a few things. Well, Jesus must have been watching because the lady asked if she could go ahead, since she was with the guy in front of me. I looked at their TWO full baskets and said, “Sure. I’m not in a hurry.” Internally I added, God hates me.

This may not come as a surprise because–Arkansas–but I ended up being related to both the lady and the guy. (She’s my mom’s aunt; he’s my mom’s cousin. We only see each other when someone dies because we’re tight like that.) Honestly, I don’t remember ever having a conversation with my great-aunt before. But we chatted for a few minutes. Turns out we’re on the same schedule–stay up until six in the morning, wake up at four in the afternoon. I mean, we didn’t hug, but I found it fascinating. I wish I could tell you why random shit like this happens, but it doesn’t make any more sense to me than getting in a car wreck or that business with the insurance money.

The mystic Meister Eckhart said, “It is permissible to take life’s blessings with both hands provided thou dost know thyself prepared in the opposite event to take them just as gladly. This applies to food and friends and kindred, to anything God gives and takes away.” I always love this quote when God is giving, but whenever God is taking, I kind of hate it. Lately I’ve been thinking that I didn’t have that much more to give–I’m  pretty much worn out here, Jesus–but apparently I have a lot left to give–like a car, maybe some money, part of my health, and my good mood.

Here you go, Lord, take all you need.

There’s this feeling when you’ve been smoking cigarettes and you haven’t had one in about twenty-four hours, sort of like you want to run up the walls, jump out of your skin, or maybe shove a rusty knife into someone’s leg. You think, This will never get better. But then you wait a day or two, maybe a week, and it does. You look back and think, That wasn’t so bad. In the process, you find a lot of compassion for anyone who deals with addiction. So in terms of my stiff neck and needing to buy a new car, I’m currently halfway up the wall. I don’t have a rusty knife, but you’d better still keep your legs away. That being said, I have every confidence that given enough time, I’ll come back down the wall and find myself more understanding, more compassionate. Since God works in mysterious ways, I’m trying my best to keep both hands open, to gladly accept whatever comes and goes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We’re all made of the same stuff.

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