Let Me Have My World, I’ll Let You Have Yours (Blog #990)

A few things–

1. On creating

Lately I’ve been working on a few creative projects, and today I finished one of them–a vintage Hollywood wallpaper magnet board. I made the board itself over a decade ago, but it’s been screwed to the back of a desk that’s been pushed up against a wall in my parents’ front room for I don’t know how long. Anyway, last week I took the board off the desk, two days ago I spray painted the wood for a frame, and today I attached the frame to the front of the board and fastened two hanging hooks to the back. And whereas I could tell you every little thing that went wrong with and what’s NOT perfect about the whole project, believe it or not, I won’t. Rather, I’m happy to say that for less than twenty dollars in supplies I have something that’s not only so much better than the industrial metal shelf I was using before, but is–I think–pretty cool.

As my therapist says, cheap thrills.

2. On perspective

Along the lines of cheap thrills, this evening I went shopping for a few craft items. One of the places I stopped was Target, and just after I looked at their furniture and was about to look at their picture frames, I noticed their wall clocks. Eyeing one in particular I thought, That is so beautiful. Well, not five minutes later I overheard a man ask his wife if she’d found a clock yet, and she said, “Hell no. All their clocks are ugly. I guess we’re gonna have to go back to Hobby Lobby.”

Now, I have no idea what KIND of clock this lady was looking for, where she was going to put it, or what her particular taste or style is. Nor, let’s be clear, do I care. I just think it’s interesting that what one person considers gorgeous another can find offensive. What’s the saying? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I also think it’s interesting that we all KNOW that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that everyone sees the world differently (according to their background, tastes, and predilections), and yet we spend so much time judging other people for not seeing the world like we do. Trying to convince them they should be more like us (because we’re so pleasant and fun to be around). I love peanut butter and eat it out of the jar, but recently someone said, “OH GROSS, THAT’S DISGUSTING!” UUUUHHHHH. Obviously in your world it is. In my world, it’s heaven.

My point: let me have my world, I’ll let you have yours.

Your world without Target clocks. Your world without peanut butter.

Your world without joy.

3. On interacting

This evening a total stranger commented on one of my ten-year-old YouTube videos. “Never, never, never count rumba 1,2,3 / 4,5,6!!!” he said. (The idea being that rumba, although it has six steps in a basic, is actually an eight-count dance and should be counted 1,2,3,4 / 5,6,7,8, where either the 2 and 4 or 4 and 8 are held beats.) These were his first, maybe his last words to me. Not a greeting or conversation starter–hi, hello, excuse me but I beg to differ–but rather a command with three exclamation points. As if he were my authority or dance boss. As if I weren’t another adult worthy of his respect.

Now, this online nonsense happens fairly often in my world. And whereas sometimes I let it go and sometimes I don’t and am rude in return (I’ll count rumba any damn way I want to), tonight I simply replied, “You’re obviously quite passionate about this, Stan. Please tell me more. In my experience teaching, I’ve found that some students prefer counting beats of music and some prefer counting steps or footfalls, which is why I count rumba two different ways in this video.”

Will he reply? Doubtful. Regardless of what he does, my point is that it’s important what I do. It’s important what you do. It’s vital that we ask ourselves, “How am I going to treat my fellow humans? Especially when I disagree with them, am I going to be rude and condescending (as if in this whole wide universe I know everything there is to know and therefore have the right to rub my superior opinions in your face), or am I going to be kind, compassionate, and humble?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No one dances completely alone.

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Free from Our Baggage and Bullshit (Blog #982)

It’s 3:15 in the afternoon, and, like yesterday, I’m blogging earlier than usual because I have plans this evening (last night I went to a show, and tonight I’m going to a dance) and don’t want to be up until all hours writing. Not that I ended up going to bed at a respectable hour last night. Home by 11:00, I was wide awake until 4:00 in the morning. MAAAAYBE I had a smidge too much coffee at dinner. Or it could be that I’ve simply felt better lately and have had–at times–A LOT of energy. My mind starts thinking about things I could do, future projects, and then it’s off to the races. Recently I saw my therapist while I was flying high, and she said, “You’re as happy as I’ve ever seen you.”

I told my therapist that over the last two weeks I’ve felt like a cork that’s been previously held underwater and finally released. Like, WHOOSH! to the surface. She said, “That’s what happens when you’re not suffering.”

Last night my friend Marla and I went to see the comedian Randy Rainbow, and, like I’m wont to do at shows, I bought a magnet as a souvenir. Well, when I got home it was quite the chore to fit the magnet on my magnet board. Alas, after over twenty years of collecting show magnets, my board has gotten quite full. Well, thank god, I finally found a spot. BUT THEN–out of the blue–I remembered a show I saw seven years ago that I never bought a magnet for and impulsively bought it (on sale) online. But where the hell will it go? I thought.

This afternoon I remembered that well over ten years ago when I was still living at home I installed a magnet board covered in vintage movie-star-themed wallpaper on the back of a desk that we still own but whose back is to the wall. Of course, I got excited thinking that I could take the board off the desk and–somehow–mount it in my room. (I realize “mount it” sounds dirty, but I don’t mean it that way. Hell, maybe it doesn’t sound dirty. I’m single. I don’t know these things.) Anyway, down the rabbit hole of possibilities I went considering how I could frame the board and hang it and–because you can’t change one thing without changing everything–how I could rearrange everything else else in my room to accommodate it.

This, as I’ve said before, is why any type of internal or external change is stressful for us. Because deep down we know that changes are like dominos. You set one in motion and then it’s off to the races. You think, I’ll just rearrange this corner, or–I don’t know–go to therapy. The next thing you know, your world’s upside down. At which point you wonder if you’ve done the right thing. But trust me, you have. So just keep going and don’t you dare look back.

Lot’s wife turned to a pillar of salt.

While thinking about my magnet board project I started to get overwhelmed. My Inner Perfectionist told me it had to be “just so,” that there was a right way and a wrong way to do it and that it was MY JOB to figure it out. “Don’t fuck this up,” it said. Thankfully, I ended up telling that guy to give it a damn rest. Because there’s no such thing as perfect, and there’s certainly no way to do this project–or this thing called life–wrong. Granted, there are consequences (results) to our choices, but they’re not as grave as we might imagine. Life is meant to be fun, not so serious.

Along these lines, I ended up putting my project aside to blog for today. Maybe I’ll focus on it next week, maybe I won’t. The world doesn’t turn on my decision. Sure, there will be a domino effect, but–either way–I’ve determined it’s not a big deal.

Last night after the show Marla and I went through a drive-thru to get an ice cream, and–I guess because I have long, fabulous hair–the guy at the window said, “Good evening, ma’am.” Well, I just sat there, letting him figure out that I’m a dude (although I certainly grant it’s getting harder and harder to tell these days). Anyway, he took our order and later when he handed us our frosty treats said, “Good night, sir.” Some people would have been offended about the mix up. But as soon I rolled up my window, Marla and I burst out laughing. This is the power that we have. It’s not life or god who decides if something is a big deal or not–it’s us.

Our perspective determines our experience of reality.

While looking over my magnet collection last night, I remembered with whom I attended each show. And whereas I no longer talk to several of the people who occupy my show memories, I’m proud to say that my memories with them are still fond ones. Thinking of them or the time we spent together doesn’t trigger any resentments. This is good. Not that I want to call them up and go for coffee, but I also don’t want to suffer when I think about them. (The past is over unless we keep it alive.) This afternoon my mom found a picture of me and my sister that neither I or my sister remember seeing before. In it we’re both smiling and laughing big as day. My sister said, “We look so happy.” That’s the deal. Happiness is our natural state. Children know this. We were made to float, not sink through life. And we can. Free from our baggage and bullshit, we WHOOSH! to the surface.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even if you can't be anything you want to be, you can absolutely be who you were meant to be. Don't let anyone else tell you differently.

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