Underground (Blog #1065)

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Today I’ve been thinking about gratitude because recently–really without having to try too hard–I’ve come across a handful of extremely helpful things. Upper cervical care of my neck and headaches, a new therapist for resolving trauma, a myfascial release practitioner for releasing constrictions, and–most recently–a woman who’s helping me better understand my personality and the way I was made to best function and be of service in the world. When I told my (regular) therapist about how I met this woman (I randomly told an acquaintance that I was hungry, and they invited me to join them and a friend, this personality whiz, for lunch), she said, “If that’s not kismet [fate, destiny], I don’t know what it is.”

“I know,” I told her. “So many wonderful things have happened lately. I get so focused on what’s NOT working (currently I have an ice bag on my hurting hip) that I forget to be thankful, but it truly is wild how these things have come about.”

Y’all, for years I’ve been both praying and working my ass off for answers, for healing. And whereas I certainly still have problems, I am starting to make some progress. In truth, I was probably making progress all along and simply couldn’t see it. You know the way a seed sprouts underground and sends out roots long before anything breaks above the surface. My point being that it’s easy to feel like you’re getting nowhere when you can’t see evidence of progress. Likewise, it can be difficult to feel gratitude when things aren’t one hundred or even seventy-five percent better. But it’s important to 1) be grateful for any and all progress and 2) acknowledge an answer to prayer when you get one.

I don’t know. We read all these stories about how Jesus told the lame man, “Get up and walk.” Like it happened that fast. We say, “It was a miracle.” And yet when WE HEAL over the course of several weeks or months we think, Whatever. No big deal. Like the healings and good fortunes in our lives AREN’T miracles because they didn’t come in a flash, with fireworks. And yet miracles come at all speeds, in all shapes and sizes. Rarely do they announce themselves. When I met this woman the other day, who truly did help me out and provide a lot of peace of mind in terms of loving myself “as is” and not comparing myself to others, there weren’t any trumpets. Just an empty restaurant and a bowl of chili.

More and more I believe we really don’t know what heaven is up to, or what it’s capable of. We imagine we do, but when the divine begins to act in our lives, when it sends us help just like that, we dismiss it. We say, “What a strange coincidence.” Rather than recognizing these events as answered prayers, as graces. That’s what I see my being hungry as the other day. A grace. Like, God wanted me to meet someone but couldn’t just drop her in my lap. So that morning he sent me the thought to eat a light breakfast, and then down the rabbit hole we went.

The mystic Meister Eckhart said, “God is bound to act, to pour himself into thee as soon as he shall find thee ready.” And whereas I don’t claim to be ready (whatever that means) or to be filled with God, my point is that if you’re asking God for help, know that you can expect an answer. What’s more, as Caroline Myss says, know that when “that side” plays ball, they play to win. In other words, expect that–when the time is right–your life will be flooded with any and all help you need–to heal, to succeed, to help others, to fulfill your purpose.

In other words, Buddy, get ready. The team that’s got your back can seriously make shit happen.

For the last two days I’ve been obsessed with Charlie Puth’s song “Patient.” It’s about a boyfriend who’s begging his girlfriend to “please be patient with me” as he learns to be the man he knows she wants and needs. But when I hear it I imagine that the divine is asking me to please be patient with it. Because although it’s capable of healing or doing anything in the blink of an eye, more often it doesn’t. More often heaven answers our pleas over time because we need time–to change, to adjust to a new way of thinking, a new way of being. So please, just because things aren’t happening as fast as you’d like, don’t believe that things aren’t happening. For you and through you. Underground, seeds are sprouting. Roots are being laid down. In places you can’t see and in ways you’ll never understand, your cries for help are being answered.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No one dances completely alone.

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On Things I Claim to Believe (Blog #904)

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Yesterday I was supposed to be a dance gigolo, but the gig got cancelled. And whereas a part of me was like, Crap, there goes that money, most of me was like, Something else will come along. Because of this incident, I’ve thought a lot today about two things I claim to believe–1) the idea that things happen for a reason and 2) the idea of divine timing, that everything happens when it’s supposed to. Because both these ideas are easy to profess but harder to really animate when the rubber hits the road. Like, whenever I’m counting on a certain amount of income and a client says, “Let’s forget about it,” my faith in “God knows what he’s doing” starts to falter.

As if God’s primary concern were my bank account.

Another thing I claim to believe is that God works in mysterious ways. To me this means that–really–none of us know why anything happens or doesn’t happen. In terms of my plans changing last night, it could be that had I driven out of town, I would have hit a deer (or worse). Or I could have had such a miserable time that the money wouldn’t have been worth it. (As it was, I had a delightful evening.) Caroline Myss says that when you pray for things, you don’t get to tell God how to answer you. Well, I’ve asked for a body that feels as good as possible as well as for healthy relationships, and it’s possible my going out of town last night would have been out of alignment with those requests.

This must be a lesson the universe really wants me to get, since this afternoon I drove all the way to Fort Smith for an appointment only to find out that it too was cancelled. (The person whom I was meeting had sent me a message that they were sick, but I didn’t get it because my phone network was down.) Anyway, it was forty-five minutes of my day that felt completely wasted and unproductive. Again, part of me was like, This blows. But most of me was like, We are not going to complain. We’re alive and well and have been given an opportunity to relax–to NOT be productive. We are going to be grateful. And it was that simple. I wouldn’t let myself throw a fit.

My advice–don’t let yourself throw a fit.

Tonight I went to a swing dance at the studio where I tore my ACL this last December. This was my first time back since the accident. When I was getting ready I actually thought about wearing the same (slightly oversized) shoes I was wearing when the accident happened, like, I’ll show you, slippery floor, but decided against it. Instead, I wore shoes that hug my feet and have stickier bottoms. And guess what? I didn’t hurt myself.

Of course, I didn’t attempt to jump over anyone’s head either.

Y’all, dancing tonight was the best thing. I saw and danced with several people I know and, in the process, got in some serious cardio. By the time the night was over, I was sopping wet.

Here’s a video (taken by my friend Sydnie) of my friend Renee and me Lindy Hopping to Caro Emerald’s Completely.

 

Wow. So much has happened since the last time I was dancing on that floor. I remember the night of the accident. I couldn’t get out the front doors by myself. Someone had to support me. There are times when I get frustrated because my knee and I can’t do everything we used to, but–really–it’s a miracle that we’re dancing at all. Also, I keep calling it an accident, but another idea I claim to believe is that there are no accidents. In other words, at least in my best moments, I believe that my injuring my leg, on some level, needed (knee-dead) to happen. I can’t say why–that’s above my pay grade–but I do know the whole experience has given me more compassion, patience, and understanding for both myself and others, and that’s enough for me.

The way I see it, if you say you believe something, at some point you’ve got to start acting like it. “Acting like it,” indeed, is an accurate way of describing what you’ll be doing at first. That is, until you get the hang of it, you won’t feel patient or understanding when someone cancels on you, or when something terrible happens. My therapist says, “Fake it until you make it.” Now, I don’t know that any of us ever “make it.” I doubt it will ever become fun for life to throw you a curve ball. But I do think it gets easier to accept what is (gracefully) if you can slow down and remind yourself that even frustrating or “terrible” things can contribute to your growth.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You absolutely have to be vulnerable and state what you want.

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Nudged Down the Rabbit Hole (Blog #137)

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Today I’ve felt like Alice chasing the white rabbit down the rabbit hole. When I woke up at three this afternoon–as my friend Andy says, “We’re dancers. If it’s before four in the afternoon, it’s morning.”–the first thing I saw was a text from my friend Vicki. She said she was reading a book called Freedom Seeker by Beth Kempton and that I should check it out, that it was currently available on Kindle for two dollars. (Okay. You had me at two dollars.) So despite the fact that I’m currently in the middle of five or six books, I bought the book and started reading it after breakfast, or, as my grandpa would say, supper.

So far, the book discusses practical ways we can regain our sense or feeling of freedom, and it talks a lot about birds and bird cages, for what I hope are obvious reasons. And as if my life weren’t weird enough already (last week I got invited to eat by two total strangers–and said yes), the book says to be on the lookout for birds and bird feathers because the universe can communicate that way. (This is, in fact, something I believe and have blogged about, but I still roll my eyes a little whenever someone else says it. Like, oh yeah, sure–a bird feather is the new burning bush.)

Anyway, the book also said that one way to recover one’s sense of freedom is to be more adventurous. It said that if you have dreams of spending your time rock climbing, you can start small–go for a hike. If you dream of being more flexible, you don’t have to go crazy–stretch for five minutes. The idea is that we often fantasize about the lives we want and think they’ll “just happen,” but we don’t take steps toward them. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s as far as I got before moving on to other projects.

Now I’ll progress to something far more fascinating.

This evening I went to Walmart.

I went to Walmart for the express purpose of buying a bottle of hemp lotion because I like the smell of it and one of my creativity assignments is to do something small to make myself feel special and luxurious. (Apparently using the little bottles of lotion you get from motels doesn’t qualify.) So I was just going to get one thing–lotion–oh, and a loaf of bread for Mom and Dad. Well, as I was walking in the front door, a couple was coming out, and I was thinking about that whole being more adventurous thing, how the book suggested one way to do that was to talk to strangers. So I smiled–and they smiled back. There, I thought, baby steps.

So get this. Immediately after my small adventure, I looked up and saw the word “adventure” on a display by the self-checkout section. Hum, that’s weird. Then I started thinking about another creativity assignment (there are A LOT of these damn things) I have to do in order to indulge my inner child–eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, finger paint, shit like that. So I thought, what the hell, and bought a box of Legos. I mean, I used to LOVE Legos. I collected Legos, had them ALL OVER MY ROOM. But I haven’t bought or built a set in probably twenty years. So that was it–I bought lotion, a loaf of white bread, and Legos. Because I’m thirty-six.

Notice the box says it’s recommended for ages 7 to 12. Also notice–I swear I didn’t see this when I picked out the set–it says, “Treehouse ADVENTURES.”

When I got home, a box of shoes a friend gave me several months ago caught my eye. The outside said, “Fit for adventure.” Okay, we’ve officially entered the Twilight Zone. Anyway, I stuck the Legos in the closet for later this week, and when I did, I saw a light switch cover another friend gave me last year when I was remodeling the house I used to live in. It’s basically a little machine–it has a lever up top with a knob you move from side to side that–through a series of mechanisms–makes the switch go up and down. It’s the coolest thing ever, and I’ve been telling myself, I’ll use it when I have my own place. But keeping with the theme of adventure, I thought, Why not now? It’s fun. It makes me happy. So I hung it up. (See the picture up top.)

Okay, two more weird things. While looking at Facebook, I saw an advertisement for some self-helpy stuff–an online course of sorts. Well, it’s not unusual to see that typle of thing in my news feed, but the website had a freaking bird on it–front and center. Okay, I’ll think about it. I’m not biting yet. Then I saw a posted article about the benefits of lying on your back with your legs up a wall. (It’s a yoga pose called–get ready–legs up a wall). Again, this sort of thing isn’t out of the ordinary, but most of the day I’ve been focused on a low-level pain in my leg that I don’t want to get worse–and I’ve been telling myself that God and the universe are smart enough to figure this damn problem out. So I tried it.

First I’d like to say that it ain’t easy to get and keep your butt up against a wall while lying on your back. I mean, maybe for you it is. But if you’ve never tried it and want to–just take your time. Also, look out for any doorstops on the baseboard. YOWZA. Anyway, while I had my legs up the wall, I discovered a muscle, tendon, or something attached to my right kneecap that DID NOT feel good. In fact, when I tried to stretch it, it hurt so bad that I nearly jumped out of my skin and immediately started doing Lamaze.

HEE–HEE–WHO (Fuck). HEE–HEE–WHO (Damn).

Part of me thinks that I’m crazy for even considering the idea that God speaks to me through shoe boxes and advertisements on Facebook. That being said, I don’t believe in accidents, and there are plenty of days when I DON’T notice the word adventure, when I DON’T stop scrolling long enough to see a bird, when I DON’T have time to try a new stretch that would make even John Wayne whimper.

Whereas I know that I can blow a lot of smoke up my own ass at times, I have been asking God a lot of questions lately, so I like to think that all of these “coincidences” all just God nudging me in the right direction. Caroline Myss says, “Prayers are answered immediately, but how they are answered is often a mystery that unfolds at the pace that I can handle.” So I’m trying to be open to the idea that answers to prayers–at least clues–can show up anywhere, even at Walmart, even in my Facebook feed. And maybe that makes me feel like Alice going down the rabbit hole, but honestly I’m ready to have my world turned up side because it wasn’t working the other way (when I was in charge). Yes, I’m ready for a little adventure, ready to play with Legos again, ready to see where the nudges of God take me.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The symbols that fascinate us are meant to transform us.

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