Please Pass the Better Feeling! (Blog #854)

This morning I woke up with a crick in my neck and thought, Oh crap, it’s probably just gonna get worse because I’ll be spending all day painting, which is what I did. A friend of mine is fixing up their rent house (to rent), and, starting today, I’m painting the inside. And whereas I’m excited about the work (it’s good to be employed), I’ve been nervous about what it would do to my already tender and sometimes hurting body. Anyway, I took two Aspirin, said a prayer, and asked my body to hang in there. If possible, I’d like us to feel good, I said. Then off we went.

When I first arrived at my friend’s rent house, I was overwhelmed by the big-ness of the project. The entire house, every room (all the walls and ceilings), needs to be done. Where do I start? I thought. Finally, I took a breath and picked a room. Then for a solid hour all I did was prep. First I moved out all the furniture and junk. Then I took down the blinds and curtain rods and removed the wall plates. Then I wiped the cobwebs from the corners. Then I put the drop cloth down (I dropped that cloth like it was hot), shook up the paint, poured it into the pan, and got to work.

While putting on the first coat of paint, I listened to some self-help CDs I recently borrowed from a friend. One of the things the CDs mentioned was that whenever we want something–better health, more money, a lover–it’s only because we believe we’d feel better if we had it. And whereas we might (I’d certainly feel better if Zac Efron were sitting on my lap right now), the CDs suggested a novel concept–try feeling better now, even without whatever it is you want. Not great, not fabulous, just good, as good as you can in this moment, which might be different than later today or tomorrow. Anyway, I tried this. I thought about a few things that make me happy, danced around the room a bit, even did a little yoga. Later I put on the soundtrack to one of my favorite Broadway musicals. Gay, I know, but not only did it make my day painting go faster, it also made it more enjoyable.

Y’all, I worked and painted today for six solid hours. I rolled and cut in two full coats of paint onto half the room. My goal is to finish the other half tomorrow, this weekend at the latest. My point now is that the time flew by. Often when I’m doing manual labor there’s all this internal bitching–either because my body hurts or because I’d rather be doing something else. But today my body cooperated. Not that it didn’t hurt at times, but it never got out of control. And I really didn’t want to be doing something else. I saw the job for what it was–an opportunity for me to make some money, help a friend, and have time alone to listen to CDs and Broadway musicals, something I probably wouldn’t have made time for on my own.

Also, it was a chance for me to work on my attitude.

As I see it, you can always work your attitude. All the better if you’re at work or your body’s not feeling exactly like you want it to. Start by thinking, I want to feel good. Then think of things that make you feel good–your friends and relatives (well, maybe not your relatives!), your favorite book, hobby, or vacation spot. A couple years ago a friend of mine introduced me to a scene from The Big Bang Theory in which one of the characters keeps saying, “Please pass the butter,” and it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Of course, my friend and I joke about it a lot, so maybe that’s part of it. You know how something can become “a thing.” But still, whenever I want a little emotional pick-me-up, I’ll watch the clip or just think of it in my head. Please pass the butter!

And just like that, I’m smiling.

Later doesn’t exist.

I’ve made this point before, but it’s worth repeating. So often we put off our happiness. We think, I’ll be happy when my ship comes in, when I lose ten pounds (or twenty), or when I get laid. I’ll be happy when Zac Efron is sitting on my lap. And whereas there’s nothing wrong with dreaming (everybody’s got a dream), the problem with this type of thinking is that it pulls us out of the present moment, which is the only place happiness is even possible. Think about it. You can’t be happy later. Later doesn’t exist. I mean, when tomorrow arrives, it will still be NOW. And again, you don’t have to shoot for the emotional stars. You don’t have to feel the best you’ve ever felt this red hot minute. But you can reach for a slightly better feeling by opening your eyes and ears to what’s around you (life!) or by accessing a positive memory. The benefit to this exercise? It’s simple–YOU FEEL BETTER!

And you didn’t even have to go anywhere or buy anything to do so.

This is how powerful you are.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Obviously, God's capable of a lot. Just look around."

On Handyman Things and Attention (Blog #784)

It’s just before midnight, and I’d like like to keep this short because I’m tired, covered in bug spray, and generally “done.” That being said, I often say I’d like to keep this short and end up going on and on nonetheless. This is, after all, what writers do–write. Recently I told my friend Marla that I frequently fantasize how conversations will go and imagine every possible outcome (and that sometimes this drives me crazy). She said, “Marcus! You’re a writer. We imagine.” I mean, I was thinking of my wild imagination was a bad thing, but it OBVIOUSLY comes in handy for the line of work I’m in. My point being that although my wordiness can keep me at the keyboard longer than I’d like, I’d rather have too much to say than not enough.

That would be dreadful. (For a writer. Maybe not so much for, I don’t know, a President on Twitter.)

The reason I’m worn out is because–believe it or not–I’ve been working, like manual labor, most the day. This afternoon I did handyman things for Mom and Dad. First, I installed grip bars in their bathroom to make their getting on and off the toilet (the terlet) easier. (Everyone’s gotta go.) I’d been saying I’d do this for months. And maybe this sounds like a cop out, but I think I knew it was because once I started, I wouldn’t stop. That is, today when I got in the handyman mood with the grip bars, I stayed in the mood. Next I installed a smoke detector. Then I fixed a spring on their dishwasher. “What else?” I kept saying.

This evening, for several hours, I cleaned antique door hardware for my friends Todd and Bonnie. (Outside, which is why I’m covered in bug spray.) A few days ago I put a pile of paint-covered brass hardware in a crockpot with some dish soap. This is a cool trick I learned online–the heat breaks the chemical bonds of the paint, and it just comes right off. Of course, I still had to scrub the hardware today, since the crockpot process leaves the hardware pretty rusty dirty. Again, the internet saved the day. It said I could scrub the hardware with baking soda and lemon juice, so that’s what I did. Worked like a charm.

I don’t have a before photo, so just imagine those decorative plates completely covered in white paint.

After several hours of cleaning and scrubbing (and refilling the crockpot with more hardware), I called it quits. Granted, I could have gone on. There was more to do, and as I said earlier, once I get in the mood, it’s easy for me to keep going. To keep push, push, pushing. But I’m really trying to do better at this. To not cram a week’s worth of work into one day, to not cram a semester’s worth of knowledge into my head in one month, to not cram two days worth of blogging into one night. You know, to stop, dammit. Anyway, that’s what I did tonight at Todd and Bonnie’s. I called it quits. Then Todd and I ate pizza, drank beer.

Now I’m house sitting at a friend’s house, a different friend/house than earlier this week. THIS friend has a hot tub. So whereas, yes, I have other things on my mind, other things I’d like to talk about, I realize that there will ALWAYS be more to talk about, always more to do. So even if I’m in the mood to do these things, so what? Being in the mood, I think, is simply a matter of being focused on something. That is, whatever you fully give your attention to automatically becomes interesting. So I know that I can turn my attention FROM writing TO hot-tub sitting and the world will keep turning. The writing–and everything else–will be there tomorrow.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perfection is ever-elusive.

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