Time to Slow Down (Blog #926)

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Last night I went dancing in Tulsa. And whereas it wasn’t my best night–I felt crummy, and my dancing was rough–it was good to get out of the house, move a little, and see friends. One friend I was not happy to see was Old Man Winter, who apparently showed up uninvited while the rest of us were dancing. When I left the dance, my car said it was forty-six degrees outside. I can’t tell you how unimpressed I was. But what can you do?

You can put on a coat.

Today, like every other day for the last week, I woke up hacking and coughing. Again, I was unimpressed. Despite my best efforts, this junk is not getting better. At the same time, it’s not getting worse. My energy level is a consistent “blah to medium well,” and I’m able to get around. I keep terrifying myself thinking I’ll have a three-month-long sinus infection like I did over a year ago, but I also keep reminding myself that I made it once before and can make it again if I have to. It’s how I feel about winter. Somehow I will survive.

Me and Gloria Gaynor.

I’m always amazed at how life continues even when you’re sick. No matter how bad things are, you can almost always manage to get yourself dressed, talk to the people you love, go to the bathroom. Maybe not in that order. This morning I met my aunt, my cousins, and their significant others for breakfast. And whereas I was subdued, it was delightful. Much better than staying in bed blowing my nose. Along those lines–everyone, I’m sorry for that one time I coughed on the table. I couldn’t help it.

After breakfast my aunt and I visited back at her house, then I hit the road. Well, first I stopped for more probiotics to hopefully help my sinus junk. Honestly, I’m about to get tired of trying things, but my experience has taught me that this crud doesn’t go away on its own. Of course, I’m open to being surprised. If anyone with any authority is listening, I’m down for a miracle.

One of the things my aunt and I discussed was the ways therapy and daily blogging have benefitted me for the better. And whereas I could go on and on (and often do) about how much my life has been positively transformed by both of these things, suffice it to say that–in a nutshell, I’m kinder to myself. What I mean is that when I got that mother of a sinus infection over a year ago, on some level, I blamed myself. I thought I should be able to fix it, if I were good enough, smart enough. Thankfully, this time around, a lot of that is gone. Is it gone completely? Of course not. Old patterns die hard. But consistent self-reflection and self-soothing does make a difference. This evening I’ve been tired, overwhelmed, and irritated, and I don’t blame myself for any of that. My body is sick. It can’t help it. The air is getting colder. It’s time to slow down.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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On Bitching and Mitching (Blog #919)

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This entire week I’ve been fighting a sinus infection. And whereas things could be worse, I’ve been losing. Last night I went to bed hacking and coughing, and this morning I woke up hacking and coughing. Thankfully, things calmed down once my feet hit the floor and I became vertical. I guess the junk started draining. Draining, that’s what physical activity has been for me this week. Not impossible, but tiring. This morning I helped a friend load a bunch of trash (old furniture and such) onto a trailer to take to the dump. By the time we were finished, I was out of breath.

And starving. Let’s not forget starving, since three weeks ago I stopped eating before noon.

Does anyone feel sorry for me yet? If so, that’s honestly not my intent. I wish I could talk about something besides this plague–the black lung. (You could, Marcus.) I wish I could show up here and write about ten ways I have it all figured out and why I’m happy and healthy (and horny) all day every day. (You could, Marcus.) Well, yes, I could do that. But that wouldn’t be honest. I don’t feel great inside and out every day. For as hard as I work to be inside-and-out healthy, I still have plenty of things than can instantaneously bring me to my knees or, quite frankly, knock me on my ass.

I said a few days go that being sick carries less of a charge for me than it used to. What I meant is that for the longest time my sinus infections left me feeling hopeless. No matter how many doctors I saw and how many traditional treatments and home remedies I tried, the infections simply wouldn’t go away for very long. Then last year I discovered a probiotic (L. sakei) that turned out to be an absolute lifesaver. I had a sinus infection that lasted over three months, and once I got my hands on a product (kimchi) that contained the bacteria (and swabbed the inside of my nostrils with it), the infection went away in two days. “The universe knew you needed a break,” my therapist said.

“Twenty years,” I said, “is that how long it takes for the universe to figure these things out?”

Both when I had my sinus surgery two and a half years ago and when I learned about L. sakei a year and a half ago, I hoped that that would be it. Like, no more sinus infections ever. Alas, this has not been the case. Clearly, I still get them. And blog about them. That being said, they don’t last as long as they used to. They’re not as severe. And whereas I sometimes have to futz around with half a dozen products to find one with the correct, living bacteria, for me it’s still better (and cheaper) than going the traditional route of expensive doctor visits, antibiotics, and steroids.

But back to feeling hopeless. Admittedly, there have been times this week that I’ve been uber frustrated. Like, This bullshit again? But one of the benefits of so much therapy and honestly blogging about both my challenges and triumphs is that I’ve learned how to talk to myself. What I mean is that I’ve learned through daily practice how to not let myself get swept down the rabbit hole of worry and fear. Since I started this blog and especially since I went through about a year of being off-and-on sick, I’ve had a number of people refer to my writing as “bitching.” That’s fine. My point here isn’t to always be upbeat. My point is to be honest, and sometimes I’m honestly in a bitchy mood, especially when my body feels like a warm pile of shit.

All this being said, in addition to writing every one of my blogs, I’ve also read every one of my blogs at least three times, and although I could be wrong in my assessment, I think I make it a pretty distinct point here to 1) be real, 2) search for hope, and 3) find something good in even my worst days. The way I see it, saying, “This sucks, feel sorry for me,” that’s bitching. But saying, “This sucks, let’s hang in there and use this as a way to grow and become a better person,” that’s what I call mitching. That stands for mature bitching.

I just made that up.

My therapist says she’s a huge fan of bitching. “I love whining, whinging, and grousing,” she says. Not just because that’s the profession she’s in, but because it’s fun to vent, to feel sorry for ourselves. Can it wear your friends the fuck out? You’re damn right it can, which is why I suggest doing most of your emotional vomiting to someone who’s getting paid to listen to you. I also suggest that in addition to bitching you do some mitching. That is, start with the honest, ugly truth. Let your inner child throw a fit. This sucks. I hate it. Life’s not fair. I don’t know what to do. Then let your inner adult have the floor; talk yourself into a better place. All is not lost. There’s always help available. Things can change. I can change.

This is what I mean when I say I’ve learned how to talk to myself. For 919 days in a row (including today), I’ve sat down and been brutally honest about what I’m thinking and feeling. At the same time, I’ve been brutally honest about how I’d LIKE to think and feel (in a word, better). After over two years of doing this, it’s not that my bad days and challenges have disappeared. Certainly not. But what has happened is that now I don’t despair so quickly, if at all. When I do, I can get myself from a bad mood to a good mood in fairly short order.

If you want your life to change, you have to change your life.

This afternoon a probiotic I ordered earlier this week to help my sinuses arrived. And whereas I’ve only used it once, I think (I hope, I pray) it’s helping. I’ll know more tomorrow, but I’m not hacking and coughing as much as I was last night at this time. I have more energy. My point is that if you want anything in your life to improve–including your physical, mental, and emotional health–you’re gonna have to work at it again and again and again. Will you need hope and grace along the way? You bet your bottom dollar you will. None of us make it alone. At the same time, no one does our work for us. If you want your life to change, you have to change your life. This takes focused will and intent, determination and discipline, practice and patience.

It sucks, I know, but I promise you’ll like the results.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just as there’s day and night literally, there’s also day and night emotionally. Like the sun, one minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down. Our perspectives change constantly. There’s nothing wrong with this. The constellations get turned around once a day, so why can’t you and I? Under heaven, there’s room enough for everything–the sun, the moon and stars, and all our emotions. Yes, the universe–our home–is large enough to hold every bit of us.

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On Ally Cat Persistence (Blog #918)

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It’s 11:30 at night, and I’m going to try to keep this brief. Because it’s been a long day. Because I’ve still got stuff to do. Because I don’t feel well. All week I’ve been fighting a sinus infection or something gross. And whereas it’s better than it was two days ago, I’m still coughing, hacking, and sneezing.

I’m not impressed.

This afternoon I worked for several hours cleaning out a friend’s rent house and, after hauling two loads of trash to the dump(ster), made a significant dent in things. After I quit for the day, I stopped by an Asian food mart to look for more kimchi, the fermented cabbage that (sometimes) contains the probiotic that helps my sinuses. I say more kimchi because I’ve already purchased three different jars this week. (One of them was five pounds.) Seriously, the stuff is taking over our refrigerator. Still, since what I have clearly isn’t doing the trick, I continue to be persistent in the hunt.

Persistence is really what I want to talk about tonight. When I got out of my car at the Asian food mart, I saw a real scrappy looking tabby cat. You know the kind, gaunt. It was hiding in between a couple cars, snacking on a bit of food that was stuck to the concrete. God knows what it was. Perhaps something that fell out of a customer’s shopping bag or something he fished out of the nearby trash. Anyway, he didn’t run away when I walked by, but he did look at me suspiciously. Like, Don’t come any closer.

Y’all, I’m not an animal lover (I’m an animal liker), but I can’t tell you how much I’ve thought about this fella this evening. I mean, no wonder he was suspicious. He’s obviously had a rough life. How many of us are wary of letting others too close because–I don’t know–we’ve been hurt or are simply used to doing everything for ourselves?

But back to persistence. That’s what really struck me about this ally cat. Now, I clearly didn’t sit down and get his life story, but if he’s even one year old–and he looked older–it’s evident he’s a pretty resourceful feline to take what someone else would throw away and make a meal out of it. Surely we should be able to do the same. I’m not suggesting eating out of dumpsters. I mean metaphorically. Surely we should be able to take a bad situation and find something good in it, something that nourishes us. Get knocked down but get back up again. Put one foot (or paw) in front of the other and do the best we can in this moment.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Give yourself a break.

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Together (Blog #917)

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Whenever I’m sick with a sinus infection, like I have been this week, I judge how sick I am by the color of the junk I cough up when I first get out of bed. It’s gross I know. (Don’t worry, I won’t get too descriptive.) But take yesterday for example, I hacked up this stuff that was dark and bloody. I thought, Oh yeah, I’m sick. But this morning I hacked up this stuff that was like, light yellow. So I thought, Okay, all right. Go team. This is progress. We’re on the mend.

As has been the case for the last year and a half, I credit my sinus improvements to probiotics. Not the kind you swallow, but the kind you either swish around in your mouth or sniff up your nose. I get it, it’s weird. But the idea is that sinus infections are caused by “bad” bacteria (I put bad in quotes because I’m sure the bacteria’s mothers don’t think of them as bad), and the probiotics contain “good” bacteria that crawl around in your sinuses, find those critters that are causing your nasty infection (I imagine they have to use teeny-tiny flashlights), and eat them for breakfast (with little forks). It’s sad to think about, I know. All those grieving bacteria mothers. But hey–circle of life and all that.

Assuming the probiotics I bought and started yesterday are the reason for my less colorful mucus, I’ve continued using them today. And whereas my health hasn’t miraculously turned around, I have felt better, more energetic. I’ve been coughing less. This morning I took it easy (I watched a documentary about Pixar, the computer-animated film company, on Netflix), but this afternoon I rallied and did some odd job work for a friend of mine–hauling trash to the dump(ster) and taking donation items to Savers. This evening I got out to teach a dance lesson, but when they canceled at the last minute I ran some personal errands instead. Returned non-used items to Lowe’s and Walmart, that sort of thing.

At one point in time I really flipped shit whenever a dance lesson canceled. Not because I didn’t understand that things come up, but because I get paid by the hour. In a very real sense, I count on that money. Still, these last several years have taught me that things always work out and something else always comes along. So rather than launching into my worry-wart routine this evening when my lesson canceled, I shrugged my shoulders and thought, Whatever. What-the-hell-ever. Now I can run those errands. And whereas running my errands wasn’t as lucrative as teaching a lesson would have been, it was perhaps just as fun.

I’ll explain.

Immediately upon leaving my teaching space, I saw three deer. No kidding. They’d just crossed the street and actually turned around to look at me. Stopping my car, I pulled out my camera. At this point the deer ran off. But then I looked out my other window and saw another deer, and this one let me take its picture. (How polite.) Talk about a magical moment. For this brief instant I wan’t thinking about sinus infections, lost wages, or anything stressful. I was just right there, right then. We were there together.

After my moment with the deer, I went to Lowe’s. There I told the ladies at the customer service desk that I’d like to return an item (a package of nuts and bolts). Well, one of the ladies said, “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s No-Returns Thursday.”

“Oh, no,” I laughed. “Not No-Returns Thursday!”

Then the other lady said, “Don’t worry. We’ll make an exception for you because you have great hair.”

Phew, I thought, my great hair saves the day again.

(For the record, my hair has never saved the day before today.)

I can’t tell you how much this interaction thrilled me. Earlier today I stopped by the bank to reorder checks (which I also did last week, but the checks came back with a spelling error on them–the orderer typed NPRTH instead of NORTH), and whereas the teller was pleasant and helpful, she wasn’t playful. Maybe that wouldn’t be appropriate at a bank, but my point is that we often take ourselves and what we’re doing so seriously that we miss the living, breathing people standing in front of us. We forget that we can make of any moment what we want to. We forget that regardless of our life circumstances we can have fun.

We can be right here, right now together.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We follow the mystery, never knowing what’s next.

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Not Just on the Roof (Blog #916)

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I took the above photo several years ago from the window of my old dance studio. (Facebook reminded me about it today.) Back then I was on the second story of a cool building in Historic Downtown Van Buren. Sometimes after everyone else left I’d sit in the window or crawl out on the roof and watch traffic go by and stare at unaware pedestrians, maybe while listening to Jamie Cullum or smoking a cigarette. Especially on evenings when the sun was setting and the sky was a Crayon box of colors, it was like my little piece of heaven. I don’t miss many things about the studio now, but I miss that spot and the feeling I had sitting there. As The Drifters so accurately said, “On the roof, it’s peaceful as can be.”

Last night I went to bed sick with sinus junk. And whereas I was hoping my probiotics would heal me during the night, they didn’t do crap, which means I woke up with more (really colorful) junk this morning. This was frustrating, but not completely disheartening. I have, after all, been down this road dozens and dozens of times before, and my body always eventually finds its balance. A word that’s been popping up in my experience the last twenty-four hours is harmony, the idea of everything working together in unison. This is what I’m hoping for–harmony in my sinuses, harmony in my body. It’s what I’m praying for. It’s what I’m working toward.

Despite my having a head full of phlegm, today has been lovely. I saw my therapist this morning, ate a tasty salad for lunch, then spent the afternoon at a coffee shop, reading, learning. Then I ran all over town in search of MORE probiotics to hopefully help my sinuses. This mission was only mildly successful–I found one new thing to try–but that’s okay. I enjoy the hunt, the trial and error. Do I enjoy hacking and coughing in the meantime? Hell no. But I have noticed the last few months that being sick carries less of a “charge” for me than it used to. What I mean is that I used to really freak out, worry, and stress every time I got sick. I’d think that God was punishing me, that if I were only a better or smarter person I wouldn’t be sick in the first place. Now most of that guilt and fear is gone. I still get sick, I just don’t beat myself up about it like I did before. Plus, I have more hope. Over a year ago I had a sinus infection that lasted three months. It was hell, but I made it. So I know whatever happens from here on out, I’ll make that too.

One of the things my therapist and I discussed today was abundance, which is something she deep-down believes in and something I think sounds good if you say it fast. That being said, I’m coming around to the idea. Anyway, she’s recently been sick also, and she said that when you’re an independent operator (who gets paid by the hour) and get sick and can’t work, it’s easy to question the notion that you’re always supported by God or the universe. “But we are,” she said. “We always have more than we need.”

“I have more snot than I need,” I said.

I told my therapist that recently I’ve had some strong emotional reactions to things. For example, I got immediately angry when someone sent me a text message. I got squirmy when someone else asked me to do a certain odd job. And whereas I knew that my emotions were information from my intuitive system saying respectively, “Stand up for yourself,” and, “Run, Will Robinson,” my therapist suggested thinking of my emotional reactions as “tells.” Like, in the future when I become immediately angry or squirmy, I’ll know it’s my gut’s way of communicating, “Look alive, kid.” She said she has her tells for knowing when a potential client won’t work out and always regrets it when she goes against her inner guidance.

I realize I’m jumping around here, but this is how my therapy sessions work. Shit happens in between visits, and I make a note about it. Then when I finally see my therapist, I hop from note to note. One minute we’re talking about comedians on Netflix (we both have a thing for stand-up), the next minute we’re talking about a confrontation I’ve had or need to have, and the next minute we’re talking about relationships. Today she said, “Relationships aren’t for punks.” This came up because I’ve had a number of friendships fizzle out over the last several years and sometimes still feel gross about it. I think, Who was right and who was wrong? Am I being stubborn? Am I holding a grudge? But as my therapist explained, “Relationships are real messy. Both parties have to be adults. They have to be willing to own their shit and apologize when necessary.”

It’s easy to romanticize the past, to look back at photos and think, Those were the good old days. Bitch, please. There’s no such thing. Sure, there might have been something in your past that you enjoyed and wish you could experience again, but–I swear–it wouldn’t be the same even if you could. Additionally, we forget that life–our past, present, and future–is always a mixed bag. I miss sitting on the roof at my old dance studio. I miss that peaceful feeling. However, I don’t miss the drama of owning the studio or my lack of self-awareness at the time. Back then I had a great view of downtown, but a piss-poor view of myself and my relationships. Largely thanks to therapy and this blog, now my perspective has shifted dramatically for the better. Doing The Hard Work has made all the difference. Now I can get that peaceful feeling anywhere–because it’s inside me. Not just on the roof.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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On the Right Tools and Being Lined Up (Blog #849)

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What can I say? Today has been great. I’ve been house sitting, and this morning I slept in, made breakfast, then set out to do the one and only thing I had on my to-do list–repair a broken (rotten) door at my friend’s house. If I can get this done, I told myself, I won’t tackle any other projects. Instead I’ll do something “fun,” like read a book. Hell, I might even take a shower.

This is a good plan, I thought. So off I went to make it happen.

First off, I took the door off its hinges and surveyed the damage. The problem was that the door had a doggie door, and one day when the doggie door was locked, the dog ripped another hole beside the doggie door, through the rotten wood. It was a mess. Anyway, I covered the doorframe with a blanket, loaded up the door and my tools, and went to Lowe’s. And whereas I’d intended to buy the wood needed to patch the door then cut it myself, I thought, Hell, they can cut it easier, faster, and better than I can, so I had the nice guy in the lumber section do it. This in itself was a small victory. Years ago I would have been too embarrassed to ask for help, too shy to approach “a dude.”

After Lowe’s I stopped at my parents’ house to pick up some paint/stain for the patch, as well as some probiotics for my sinuses, since I woke up feeling slightly junky this morning. One of the things I experiment with is breaking open a multi-strain probiotic pill and swishing the powder around in my mouth. The idea is that whenever you have an excess amount of mucus or–god forbid–a sinus infection, your microbiome “up there” is off, so inserting new critters in your mouth can help (because they crawl up into your nose and sinuses and go to work balancing things out). All this to say that I was chatting with my dad in our kitchen as I broke open the probiotic pill into my mouth and then–sort of like how you try to chat with the dentist when he has his hands in your mouth–I continued talking.

Well, white powder everywhere.

You should have heard my dad laughing.

“I really needed that,” he said. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

Wiping powder off my face, I said, “I’m glad I could help.”

Fortunately, the door repair went better than the probiotic situation did. Granted, it took a while, but there were no major hangups. A friend let me borrow their garage and their power tools to do the work, and y’all, the right tools make all the difference. At one point I needed to cut through the plywood so I’d have enough space to fit my saw into the wood and then cut farther, so I used a small rotary saw to get the job done. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without it. Back at my friend’s house, I hung the door easily enough, but had to make adjustments where the bolt slides into the frame. I think this part was off previously. Regardless, this happens a lot in old houses. Something settles, then things don’t line up like they did before.

And then I took that shower.

Intent of spending the rest of the evening relaxing, I went to a late-late lunch and finished a book I started yesterday. Then I bent my own no-more-work rules and returned some not-needed screws (never thought I’d say that) to Lowe’s and also bought a new hammer because my old one went kaput recently and I’m tired of nailing things in with my flashlight or crowbar. (Anything in a pinch.) Then I helped my aunt with a small project, AND THEN I came back to the house to relax (listen to an online lecture) and, later, eat dinner.

Here’s a secret (that’s not really a secret). A lot of times when I sit down to write, I don’t know what I’m going to say. More specifically, I don’t know what my theme is going to be, what important nugget I’m going to discuss. I’m saying this now because this was the case when I sat down tonight. However, reading what I’ve written, a couple things stand out, which I’ll get to in a moment. But before I do I think it’s important to recognize that this is how creativity works–it doesn’t reveal itself in advance. You have to actually do the thing before you know what’s there. This was one of the points in the lecture I listened to–that in terms of personal growth and transformation, you’ll only discover your latent talents, abilities, and powers when you’re willing to set your old self aside and let your new self come forth.

Now.

The first thing that popped out to me earlier was “the right tools make all the difference.” This is true in handyman work, personal growth and transformation, and healing. For example, my therapist has been an invaluable resource to me and has offered me countless tools for accepting and honoring myself. Lesson One in A Course in Miracles says, “This (fill in the blank) does not mean anything.” This chair does not mean anything. This car does not mean anything. This hot guy across the room does not mean anything. The point of the exercise is to realize that if something means something to you, it’s only because YOU’VE decided that it should, and this means you have a lot of control over the things in your life and whether or not they have control over you. My point is–this exercise is another tool for peace of mind.

If one tool doesn’t get you want you want? Try another.

The other statement I noticed while reading tonight’s post was “something settles, then things don’t line up like they did before.” In my experience, I know when I settle in relationships, what ends up not lining up is me with me. That is, we all have an inner voice that lets us know when people cross the line or when a situation simply isn’t right for us. This is an invitation to self-advocate or simply be honest (this isn’t working for me). Perhaps this means you have to allow a latent power within you (like your voice) to express itself. So what? You try a new tool. A few years ago I would have been intimated to repair a rotten door. I would have thought, I’ve never done that before. Even now I’m almost always intimidated when I have to get real or have a come-to-Jesus meeting with someone. But I’ve done it before, so I can’t say I don’t know how or that I can’t. Plus, more and more I’m not willing to settle. It’s more important for me to be lined up with me.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Freedom lies on the other side of everything you're afraid of.

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On Endurance (Blog #835)

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It’s Saturday, and this morning, again, I woke up with sinus junk. This has been going on for two weeks now. Color me not amused. That being said, since I haven’t been every-day sick for the last two weeks, I know my body is trying. Indeed, some days I’ve woken up and felt almost normal (whatever that is). So I continue to ingest different probiotics and fermented foods (kimchi) in hopes that I’ll once again find the magic formula that literally clears things up. But in the meantime and for the record, this back-and-forth isn’t fun for me. Pick a lane, body!

The feeling-fine lane, that is.

In an effort to be productive, this afternoon I attempted to install a utility sink at a friend’s art studio. I say attempted because before I could make much progress, I knocked over an open quart of pink paint and made an absolute mess. As if that weren’t enough, I didn’t notice the mess until I stepped in it and nearly went into the splits as one of my legs went one direction and the other went the other. Color me terrified. All I could think about was my recently operated-on knee. Praise the lord, I was fine. And after about thirty minutes of cleaning up paint, so was (most of) the floor.

Here’s a picture of the spot where I almost became a unich.

Curse words were said.

Here’s a before picture of the sink installation. I guess a cabinet used to be there but was ripped out. The tank is the hot water heater.

Thankfully, getting the sink assembled and connected went fine. I often get overwhelmed by projects like this because no two jobs are ever the same, but it was just a matter of going step-by-step. Now, granted, the box the sink came in said, “Everything you need is included!” but the instructions on the inside of the box said, “Anchor the sink to the floor with concrete bolts (NOT INCLUDED).” So that sucked. Plus, I had to go to the hardware store to get a longer supply line, since I turned the sink sideways and one of the lines wouldn’t reach. But whatever, we figure things out.

Here’s the final product.

At one point while working today, I noticed a blob of pink paint on my leg, a spot I’d missed earlier. Getting up off the floor and making my way to the bathroom sink, everything hurt–my head, my back, my ankle. And not that these things individually were unbearable, but on top of my sinus infection and a number of other life problems I’m facing at the moment, it was all too much. Mostly because I really have been working hard lately (these last few years) to be healthy and get some of this stuff figured out. And I really do believe the body is capable of healing itself. My general take on the body, healing, and even life itself is, “Everything you need is included!” And yet some days it feels like I’m missing something, like I’m doing something wrong.

You can do this.

There’s an idea that a big part of the spiritual journey is learning endurance. I think about this a lot, that before I was born I probably made the mistake of asking the gods for patience, maybe even compassion for those who suffer. I say mistake because there’s only one way to learn these things. You have to be continually frustrated. You have to go through hell and survive. Only then can your character truly be refined or changed. Only then can you learn to surrender, learn to trust. Only then can you look at someone else who’s suffering and honestly say, “Sweetheart, I know this sucks, but you can do this.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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For I am a universe–large–like you are, and there is room here for all that we contain. An ego, of course, is small, and it is disgusted and humiliated by the smallest of things. But a universe is bigger than that, much too big to judge itself or another, much too big to ever question how bright it is shining.

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On False Emergencies (Blog #827)

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Last night I hung out with several friends for the Fourth of July. I snapped the above picture of me, my friend Kate, and her son at the party–because all three of us had holiday-inspired shirts on. (No one else did. Lame.) Mine said, “Tastes Like Freedom,” Kate’s said, “Firewerks,” and Kate’s son’s said, “I’m here for the hot dogs.” (Me too, kid, me too.) Anyway, we had a blast (get it, a blast?), but I didn’t get home and crawl in bed until after midnight. And whereas going to bed late isn’t unusual for me, since I also had to get up early this morning to go out-of-town for a wedding, I’ve been dragging ass all day.

The dragging ass part may have to do with my sinuses. Last Sunday I woke up with an infection but ended up kicking it in the butt earlier this week thanks to my adventures in probiotics (that is, sniffing probiotics up my nose). Really, I felt so much better mid-week. Still, I may not have completely turned the corner, since my energy has been low today and I’ve been a little snotty. I’m trying not to worry about it. Things could be worse, I keep telling myself. It’s not the end of the world. Nonetheless, since I don’t travel with my (refrigerated) probiotics, I hit the health food stores this afternoon to buy more supplies. Just to be safe.

We’ll see what happens. Only time will tell.

Other than the probiotics run, I’ve spent most of my out-of-town day going to bookstores. Believe it or not, I only bought one book–about gargoyles. I started to pick up a couple others, but searched the internet and found out I could read them for free through an online library I’m a member of. This is one way I’ve learned to save both money, physical space (in my room), and time (dusting)–using libraries. What a miracle! That being said, I’m currently maxed out the number of books I can check out online, and there’s all this pressure for me to read my butt off this next week so I can return the books completely read. This pressure, of course, is self-induced and what I call a False Emergency. Because the truth is nobody gives a damn if I read those books or not. The earth will keep spinning no matter what I do.

Speaking of False Emergencies, let’s talk about the couple who’s getting married tomorrow. They’re the ones who have been taking dance from me for a while, learning a routine. This evening we met for their final lesson before tomorrow’s performance. And whereas they got all parts of the routine “down,” they didn’t get them all down at at once (in one run-through). Granted, they’ve come a LONG way since they started a few months ago, and they look good. But, like I told them tonight, routines are inherently a funny thing–sometimes you nail them and sometimes you screw them up. Who’s to say what’s going to happen tomorrow? Anyway, that’s my point–I could worry about it, they could worry about it–but regardless, whatever will be, will be.

So don’t worry, be happy right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same.

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Deflated, but Not Defeated (Blog #718)

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Ick. Gross. This morning I woke up full of snot. Boo. Hiss. I guess the sinus infection I’ve been battling for the last week has come charging back. (I really thought I had it licked.) Down with this sort of thing. I don’t have any energy. Shit.

If it’s not obvious, I’m frustrated. I hate sinus infections (I’ve had a lot of them). But more than being frustrated, I’m fearful. That is, since I had a sinus infection that lasted for three months last year, I’m afraid this one will turn into something like that, something that will go on and on and never go away no matter what I try (I’ve tried a million things). Granted, the probiotic I’ve been using off-and-on this week has helped more than anything else (both historically and lately), so maybe I just need to be more consistent, stick with it for several days (the site that told me about it says to stop when you feel better). Only time will tell.

Because of my body’s current condition, I tried to take it easy today. I took a nap, read a book. It’s eight in the evening now, and I’m blogging so that I can pass out whenever my body’s ready. Normally I’d force myself to stay awake and write or go to the gym, which I still can’t decide if I feel like doing today or not. Every so often I get a slight surge in energy and think, Sure, I could run a mile. (Just one mile.) Then my energy dips and I think, Screw that, I’m not leaving this couch.

Let’s get right to the deep stuff. Normally when I don’t feel well, part of me goes into attack mode. That is, I treat my illness like an enemy. My muscles tense up. I spend hours on the internet trying to figure out how to heal. And whereas I have found some helpful hints over the years, this is exhausting. As if being sick weren’t bad enough, and then I push-push-push. So today I’ve tried a different approach–acceptance. Not that I’m not taking my probiotic and all-the-vitamins–I am–but several times today I’ve made a point to lie still, breathe deeply, and BE SICK, to feel worn out, tired, deflated, frustrated, vulnerable, and afraid. And although nothing miraculous has happened, it has been healing (on the inside) to recognize the fact that there are a lot of emotions here, to not–for once–ask myself to feel any differently than I do.

The other deep thing today is that I’ve realized my body is trying. My body is doing the best it can. I’m sure I’ve said this before and didn’t really mean it. Or maybe I just didn’t mean it as much as I do now. The point is, I was thinking about how I’ve woken up a number of days this week full of the crud, but have woken up just as many days this week refreshed and feeling quite fine, dramatically better than I was the night before. This tells me something is going on. I picture it as a war–the good bacteria versus the bad bacteria–with each side winning its occasional battle. (Obviously I’m pulling for the good guys.) Regardless, that’s what I get from this one-day-better/one-day-worse pattern. My body clearly hasn’t given up. It’s trying.

For me, these two things–acceptance of what is and the acknowledgment that my body is trying–are enough to keep me from throwing in the proverbial towel. In other words, I still have hope. Yes, I feel deflated, but not defeated.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All your scattered pieces want to come back home.

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I Like This Person (Blog #713)

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Well crap. Yesterday I said my sinuses were on the upswing, but I apparently spoke too soon. I hate it when that happens. This morning I woke up hot, and although I don’t have a fever, I’ve felt crummy all day, low energy. Now it’s six in the evening, and I’m trying my level best to get all my “chores” finished so that I can take a nap and not have to worry about doing anything when I wake up. I’m hoping a nap will help, but sometimes sleep is the worst, especially with sinus problems. It’s just a matter of gravity. Everything runs to your head.

Ick.

I’ve spent the afternoon trying all my home remedies. I thought the kimchi I’ve been using was helping, but it’s possible that it’s out of date and no longer contains the bacteria I need. But working from the wisdom of “there’s more than one way to skin a cat,” I’ve been taking a few other supplements, as well as drinking a lot of fluids. And whereas part of me is terrified and thinks I’m going to end up being sick for months like I was last year, another part of me is rational and thinks, Just give it a few days before you start freaking out. A lot can happen in a few days.

Yeah, that first part of me responds, you could get the flu, like that friend of yours got. Remember her? You were standing right beside each other!

Let’s talk about something else before I scare myself to death.

Earlier this week I began the long process of going back and re-reading all my blog posts. And whereas I initially read them in random order, last night I went back and started from post number one. Oh my gosh, y’all, I completely spilled my guts. After decades of being silent or indirect about my sexuality and almost everything else in my personal life, I just put it out there. You can read it for yourself, but I basically said, “I’m here, I’m queer, and I like waffles.” Reading the post last night, I thought, Well, that was brave. Recently when I was being hard on myself for not having a real job “like everybody else,” my therapist said, “If you were looking objectively at yourself from the outside, what would you say?” I paused then replied, “I’d say I really admire that person for following his dream. He’s got a lot of balls.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

Being courageous means taking action despite being afraid.

I don’t mean to toot my own horn–look how brave I am! But reading my first post and answering my therapist’s question really did come as a shock to me. I spend so much time worrying and being afraid, about my health and life in general, that I rarely if ever stop to consider that I am simultaneously being courageous. Because I do think fear and courage can exist at the same time. Indeed, one must first be fearful before they can be courageous. This is why no one ever says they courageously put their shoes on. Who’s afraid of putting on their shoes? No, being courageous means taking action despite being afraid.

After I read my first post, I read several others. Posts two through nine to be specific. For the most part, this was like looking through an old scrapbook. I thought, Oh yeah, I remember that. I laughed, I cried, I noticed a few typos. I did not, however, get self-critical, as I often do when, for example, looking back at old dance videos. Rather, I thought, I’m proud of this.

Later, while hanging up laundry, another thought popped into my head. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it was like I was thinking about myself as if I were someone else, from an objective viewpoint like my therapist suggested. Anyway, I thought, I like this person.

I like this person because he’s brave.
I like this person because he’s smart.
I like this person because he’s funny. (I’m pretty funny.)
I like this person because he’s a handsome devil.

But seriously. I like this person. This really was a big deal. Not a revelation, per say, but a significant acknowledgment. I like me. Not that I DISLIKED myself before last night, but I’ve spent a lot of time disliking certain things about myself (from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet), and that’s essentially the same thing. So it was an important reminder that I actually like and enjoy a million things about me, regardless of how healthy or sick I am, regardless of how big my waistline is. Now I’m reminding myself that whenever I’m being self-critical I’m talking about somebody I like, somebody I care about–and that’s not okay.

So knock it off, me

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be weird here. You can be yourself.

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