On Love, Simple and Plain (Blog #1059)

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I spent today in Little Rock with a friend. We met this morning in Fort Smith, grabbed breakfast at a drive thru, drove down, ate a delightful lunch, then went to an antique store. Then we saw the musical Waitress. Then we did just a wee bit of shopping and drove home, stopping along the way in Russellville for dinner at Feltner’s Whatta-burger, a regional favorite. And whereas we had a fabulous time, it made for a long day. Over five hours on the road, all that running around, and all that eating. (If you do it right, it’s an effort for both you and your insulin.) Currently it’s after midnight, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open. As my friend said earlier, “I’m worn to a frazzle.”

Whatever a frazzle is.

Along these lines, today I’ve felt like my body is falling apart. I’ve had a headache. My elbow’s been itching from psoriasis, a condition that hasn’t bothered me in months but just this week has reappeared. Likewise, my leg’s been hurting from sciatica, something that hasn’t happened in years. And whereas part of me is scared that things are getting worse, part of me is convinced it’s just retracing, a phenomenon I blogged about recently in which the body recreates past illnesses in order to more fully heal them.

And if it’s not retracing, Marcus?

Then I’m screwed.

Just kidding. Whether it’s retracing or not, I’m taking care of myself. This evening I took Tylenol for my headache. Tonight I put both Vitamin E and a prescription cream on my elbow. Currently I have an icepack on my leg (because my sciatica is apparently related to inflammation, and ice helps calm things down). Sure, having to deal with these problems is frustrating, but the specific things I’m having to do to deal with them–thank goodness–aren’t complicated. Pop a pill. Rub in some cream. Grab an ice pack.

Simple.

Along the lines of not being complicated, my favorite song from the show today was called “You Matter to Me.” A duet between two of the main characters, who happen to have fallen for each other, it’s essentially their way of saying, “I love you.” The not complicated tie-in being when they say, “Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody.” More and more I see relationships that work–hell, anything that works–like this. Simple, plain, non-demanding. Ugh. We all know people around whom we have to walk on eggshells, people who make everything (including loving them) harder than it has to be. Complicated. And yet loving someone isn’t complicated.

Because love is straightforward.

More and more, this straightforward kind of love is what’s attractive to me. Not just in a romantic sense, but in a practical, everyday sense. Recently my aunt asked me to tweeze her eyebrows because she was shaking too bad. So I did. Later she said, “I know you probably didn’t want to do that.” But I did want to do that. That’s why I did it. “If I hadn’t wanted to do that, I wouldn’t have done it,” I said. See? Straightforward, simple. My aunt acted like it was a big deal, but it wasn’t. Someone asked for something I was able to give, so I gave it. Likewise, when my body asks for something I can give–a pill, a nap, a good long cry, whatever–I try to give it.

Because, why wouldn’t I?

My friend and I joked today about my being high maintenance. Because I had to buy a magnet at the show (like always), and I had to have everything in the car just so before I could start driving. And whereas I don’t apologize for being fussy, I do believe that the fussier we are with respect to ourselves, others, and our environments, the less happy we are. Because the more demands we put on life, the harder it is for life to please us. Most of us say, “I’ll love me, my life, and others when–I get a lover, a better body, more money.” Thus, we love conditionally. Complicated. The mystics, however, say it’s possible to love unconditionally, to love not because everything in life is going your way, but rather because it’s your nature to do so. “Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody.” They call this “love without an object,” meaning you don’t need “a thing” to make you happy. Because it’s not about something “out there” making you feel better or putting love inside you. Rather, it’s about something “in here” making you feel better and putting love out into the world.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rejecting yourself is what really hurts.

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On Shaking the Dust out of the Rug (Blog #1054)

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Today I’ve been thinking about healing. Ugh. It’s such a damn process. For example, since starting upper cervical care a few months ago, my headaches have dramatically decreased. They’re so much better, way less frequent. Indeed, there are days when I think I’m going to get a headache (I feel tension coming on), but I don’t. Somehow, my body nips it in the bud. And yet for all this improvement, I still have my challenges. Of course. Like today. My head has been throbbing. What’s the saying? One step forward, two steps back. But in my case it’s more like two steps forward, one step back.

As I understand it, this is normal. Last night I watched a bunch of videos about upper cervical care on my doctor’s website, and one of them led me to another video that discussed the healing cycle, the healing cycle being the “way” our bodies heal. Unfortunately, they don’t heal in a straight line. Rather, when things are going well, over what’s typically a three-month period, they make some progress, then regress, make some progress, then regress. Two steps forward, one step back. Whenever I get ready to go somewhere, I throw my bag in the car, then come back for my keys. Then I walk to the car, but inevitably come back again. Because I forgot my coffee. Or my deodorant. So what our bodies do makes sense to me.

They HAVE to go back, to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind or left undone.

Along these lines, one of the videos I watched last night was about something called retracing. In at least two other posts, the most recent of which you can read here, I’ve talked about a thing that can happen when our bodies heal called unwinding. Same thing. Retracing or unwinding is basically your body’s way of reliving past and unresolved stresses or traumas and–finally–resolving them. In the unwinding experience I had last summer that centered around a car accident I had when I was a teenager, my body twisted and turned and told me (instead of me telling it) what happened that night. Along with these contortions, it released emotions, mostly fear and sadness. Likewise, recently I had an experience in which I relived memories of my dad’s arrest when I was a teenager. Along with these memories came tears, facial scrunching, fist clenching, and foot stomping. From what I understand, this is the deal. Retracing isn’t just a cerebral experience; it’s a physical and emotional one, a release of previously suppressed reactions and emotions.

Recently I told a friend that the more I learn, the more I’m convinced that our traumas are physical and emotional events, not just mental ones. And that as much as I wish my mind could get me out of what my body got me into, it can’t. It just can’t. Still, this isn’t a bad thing. Because it lets me know where to look in order to heal, which is not my mind. Rather, it’s my body. Not that the mind isn’t part of it. After all, our minds, our emotions, our bodies, our spirits, and our souls are connected. This is my point. That our stresses, traumas, dramas, and diseases don’t just happen to A PART of us. They happen to ALL of us and therefore REQUIRE all of us to heal. So it’s not just about getting your head in the healing game. It’s about getting your head and your heart in there.

You know how sometimes when you clean, especially if you’re in a hurry, you half-ass do it, or skip parts altogether? Like, you sweep dust under the rug or ignore the gunk that’s piling up behind the refrigerator for “just one more spring”? Well, your house may LOOK spick and span, but YOU know that it’s not, not deep down. That dirt and crap is still there. Alas, it’s the same with our bodies. We can put on a happy face and say we’re fine, we can even talk about our traumas and dramas until we’re blue in the face, but until we allow our bodies to express what was suppressed, we’re just letting more dust pile up.

So what am I advocating? A deep cleaning.

People who talk about retracing say that our bodies often put Bandaids on things if they don’t have the resources to really heal them. Then later, when the resources become available, they’ll recreate whatever the pain or problem was in order to really heal it. Think of this like pulling out your refrigerator, taking an honest look at what a mess things are, then really getting down on you hands and knees and going to work once and for all. Ugh. As far as I can tell, truly healing always requires going back and cleaning up what didn’t get cleaned up before, really shaking the dust out of the rug that is your life. Of course, going back isn’t about bitching and moaning. Whoa is me, my life has sucked balls, and all that. Rather, it’s about acceptance and willingness. Something terrible happened and I wanted to scream and shout (and let it all out) but I didn’t. So I’m willing to now. Something made me sad but I didn’t know how to cry. So I’ll cry now. So that things can really be cleaned up and over. So that I can really be right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You’re exactly where you need to be.

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