The Fires of Transformation (Blog #490)

Last night I stayed up reading a book called A Headache in the Pelvis, about how tension in the muscles of the pelvis can cause (among other things) bacterial and non-bacterial prostatitis, frequent urination, and low-back and abdominal pain. The book proposes a number of relaxation and stretching exercises to help with these issues and says that the key to relaxation is (ironically) acceptance of tension. In other words, don’t fight it. Let it be. So both last night before going to bed and today while traveling, I’ve been trying this technique–paying attention to my aches and pains while breathing deeply and trying to listen to what they may be saying.

Slow down, baby. You don’t have to work so hard.

This morning, after packing all our shit into my car (Tom Collins), my aunt, my parents, their dog, and I left my sister’s in Albuquerque. (I stepped in the dog’s shit just before we left. That’s a good omen, right?) Now we’re at my cousin’s in Oklahoma City. Currently my mother and I are sitting in the dark in the living room, since my father’s sleeping in one of the recliners in here. I think we’re all a bit worn out from the trip. Tom Collins is a comfortable ride, but thanks to our massive amount of luggage (and the coolers of drinks and bags full of snacks), we were rather cramped. Plus, it was over eight hours on the road. And personally, I’m rather sick of the road.

As my aunt said, “Next time, we’re flying.” (My dad replied, “Donna Kay, you’re not flying anywhere. Do you know what it costs to check your baggage these days?! The way you pack, you’d have to win the lottery just to afford the luggage fees.”)

To my dad’s point, my aunt DOES have one carry-on-sized suitcase filled completely and exclusively with her makeup.

I spent the entire trip today with my nose in a book about alchemy and mysticism. The book itself is concerned with historical art that conveys alchemical and mystical ideas and concepts, but what’s particularly fascinating to me is the idea of transformation. Not literally turning lead into gold, but symbolically turning lead into gold–taking something base and ugly, something that at first weighs you down, and turning it into something pure and beautiful, something that sets you free or gives you new life.

Incidentally, in classical alchemy this process of transformation was sometimes seen as occurring in five specific stages that are depicted in many paintings as corresponding birds–the raven, the swan, the peacock, the pelican, and the phoenix. (How cool is that?)

Take your challenges and turn them into the source of your strengths.

As I see it, we all have lead in our lives. Put another way, we all have emotional baggage we take everywhere we go. (Can you imagine if the airlines charged for THAT?) Here on earth, it’s simply the way it is; everyone gets weighed down. But honestly, I think we were meant to travel light, to let go of tension, of physical possessions, of emotional baggage. Think about it–we come here with nothing–we leave here with nothing. This is what turning lead into gold is about–traveling lighter–not lugging around more shit than you have to. And not that you suddenly forget your life experiences or magically make them disappear, but you find a way to process them so they don’t weigh you down like Jacob Marley’s chains. You take your challenges and turn them into the source of your strengths. Like the phoenix, you burn yourself up in the fires of transformation and rise anew from the ashes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No good story ever ends.

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One, Two, You Know What to Do (Blog #68)

A few years ago I had a chronic problem with my–ahem–prostate. I guess it wasn’t a serious deal, but it was super itchy down there, on the inside. (Aren’t you glad we can talk about ANYTHING here?) Anyway, my primary care doctor assumed it was a bacterial infection, and I think we went through five rounds of antibiotics to no avail over a several month period. Finally, I ended up with a urologist in Northwest Arkansas that didn’t require a referral, since the ones in Fort Smith do, and that process was moving about as fast as the return of Jesus Christ.

Well, the doctor was a miracle. (If you need a good guy “down there,” let me know.) Basically he stuck his finger up my butt, I said I felt like I should introduce him to my parents, and he said I didn’t have a bacterial infection. (That was easy.) He said that it was non-bacterial prostatitis, so don’t let anyone give me more antibiotics. Also, he said to wear briefs, take warm baths, and watch my diet. Oh, and he prescribed a pill for old people who have trouble peeing because he said it would help everything relax down south. (Apparently my prostate was “stressed.” Who isn’t these days?)

At some point during the prostate problem period (PPP), I read a book called It Starts with Food by Dallas and Melissa Hartwig. The book contends that we can–and should–do a lot of things for our health, but it needs to begin with what we eat. It recommends a reboot of sorts called The Whole30, which is thirty days of no grains, no corn, no sugar, no dairy, no legumes, no alcohol, and–obviously–no fun. (But really, you do get to eat several types of protein and plenty of fruits and vegetables.)

As you can imagine, a diet this strict can be pretty intimidating, but I decided to–as my therapist says–give it a whirl. And get this. Within two weeks, the prostate problem disappeared. In thirty days, I lost sixteen pounds, and about day twenty-eight, I felt especially lighter and more energized. I thought, Wow–THIS is what my body’s supposed to feel like.”

It’s time for some tough love.

They say that what goes up must come down, and apparently the reverse is true also. Slowly, I fell off the wagon–a pizza here, a pizza there–and my weight went up and the prostate problem returned. And then eventually, the problem calmed down on its own. (The body is so strange.) The last time I saw my doctor, I told him about the diet, and he said, “Well, I’m just going to give you a little tough love and tell you to eat better.”

Over the last few years, I’ve done The Whole30 a handful of times, and it always works. But it also takes a lot of focus, and sometimes it makes me light-headed because maybe I’m getting too few calories or maybe I’m getting too few carbohydrates. But again, it’s effective. The point isn’t to lose weight, but I always do, and weird health issues usually clear up or at least improve. I mean, this last January, after taking antibiotics, I had the body odor issues that I’m currently having, so I started a similar thing to The Whole30 called The Candida Cure. Within a week, my body oder returned to normal (which is quite pleasant I’ve been told). But then I had sinus surgery, took more antibiotics (shit happens), and–as the song goes–the cat came back the very next day.

Honestly, I hate the fact that there’s a relationship between what I eat and how I feel. I wish I could just take an old person’s pee pill or rub some magical cream under my armpits and continue to eat waffles, fried chicken, and chocolate cake for breakfast (the healthiest meal of the day). But the fact is–I know better. I’ve seen what clean eating, if only for a couple of weeks, can do for me.

For the last month, I’ve been telling myself that I need to clean it up again, but I simply haven’t had the energy. I mean, the dollar menu is SO EASY. Plus, I usually work things up to be a bigger deal than they actually are, like every decision, every food plan, is FOR-EV-ER. So yes, I’ve been resistant. But last night I stepped on the scale, and seeing that I was just a few pounds shy of a number I’ve never seen before, I thought, Oh hell no–it’s time for some tough love.

So tonight I went to the grocery store. (Notice all the fruits and vegetables.)

While I shopped, I kept wondering if I truly had the focus and energy to currently commit to healthier living. But then I remembered once a couple of years ago when I was in the same situation and my friend and workout partner Jim said, “You know what to do. You’ve done it before.” So I’m finding a lot of encouragement in that thought, the idea that I’m not having to learn this for the very first time. Already, there’s a part of me that’s like, Yeah, this feels familiar. (And hungry. It also feels hungry.)

I’ve had a similar experience regarding my emotional life since starting therapy. I don’t remember when it was, but one day I realized that I’ve been through a ton of shit–like a lot–including illnesses, deaths, heartaches–the big stuff. And even though none of it was easy, I’d made it, so I knew I was strong. Even now, I know I can handle whatever comes. I’ve got my life so far as evidence.

And really, compared to an ex who puts you in therapy, what’s a little spinach? (You can do this, Marcus.)

I’m telling myself that I’m not going to be a complete hard ass about the diet this time. When I woke up this morning (afternoon) I thought I was going to quit coffee today too, but when I got a headache two hours later, I thought, That part can wait. There’s a day next week when I’m going out of town to hear David Sedaris, and I don’t plan on eating out and having a salad. But I know my body is asking me for better, and I do intend to answer the call.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

[The title of tonight’s blog is partly inspired by my friend Jim’s statement and partly inspired by the Lindy Hop legend Frankie Manning, who used to say, “Uh one, uh two, you know what to do.”]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds. A dove appears--the storm is over.

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