A Little Song, a Little Dance, a Little Seltzer Down Your Pants (Blog #899)

This afternoon I went shopping with a friend. The whole point of our getting out was for them to find a jacket. Alas, they couldn’t find one. So they bought a shirt, and I bought three. And a pair of pants. Gosh, living was a lot cheaper when I was in mourning, when I wore the same black shirt every day. (Johnny Cash really knew what he was doing.) That being said, I have no regrets. What’s the saying? Variety is the spice of life.

After shopping, my friend and I went out to dinner, a late birthday celebration. (My birthday was two days ago.) And whereas I won’t go into everything we discussed while shopping and eating (because it doesn’t matter and, more importantly, I don’t remember), I will say we laughed a lot. That’s one of the things I adore about me and this particular friend–we’re always cracking up.

Caroline Myss says, “Think about whether you truly have a sense of humor. [My thought–if you have to think about it, you don’t.] Healing is enhanced with humor, and laughter can lighten almost anything–certainly most day-to-day irritations. Your goal: to bring humor to everything that causes you stress, as this is one of the most empowered responses you can have.”

How does this work? Well, if you don’t have a sense of humor, I’m not sure. But if you do, it’s simply a matter of perspective, how you choose to see something. In terms of “day-to-day irritations,” for example, this morning I was trying to pick up a few items to put in the recycle bin–with one hand. Well, I dropped them everywhere. And whereas my first response was, Fuck!, my second response was laughter. It’s like I could see it happening to someone else in a movie, and all of a sudden it was funny. This morning, because our dog made a mess last night, I used a green rag to clean a section of the carpet of the room I’m currently in and ended up turning the carpet light green. I told Mom about it tonight, and she said, “Don’t worry, that carpet’s shit anyway.”

Perspective.

In terms of major drama/trauma, my therapist says, “Tragedy plus time equals comedy.” This, I think, is why minorities (Jews, African Americans, women, gays) often make the best stand-up comedians. They’ve been through hell. What’s left if you go through hell and manage to survive in one piece? A joke. Not that you should laugh about your personal tragedies every minute of every day, but you should at least be able to laugh about them sometimes, with certain people. I can’t tell you the number of times my therapist and I have joked about what most people would consider pretty serious stuff. If someone were listening to us, they might think, Talk about dark humor. But my therapist says some things are just “too much” to deal with head-on all the time.

There’s an episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show about the death of Chuckles the Clown. The guys in the newsroom think the whole situation is hilarious. At the funeral one of them says, “We’ll know who the rest of the clowns are when they all jump out of a little hearse.” But Mary doesn’t see the humor. “A man has died,” she says. Finally, in the middle of the memorial, Mary starts giggling. When the priest quotes Chukles’s motto–a little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants–Mary bursts out laughing. The guys are confused, but the priest encourages her to laugh. “Chuckles would have wanted you to,” he says. At which point Mary starts sobbing.

To me this scene illustrates the fact that sadness and happiness, tragedy and comedy, are closely related–and there needs to a balance. That is, if there’s something in your life you’ve only ever been sad about, maybe it’s time to find the humor in it. Even if it’s just the humor of saying, “This is my frickin’ life.” Conversely, if there’s something you’ve only ever joked about, maybe it’s time to cry about it. Maybe you’re using your humor not as a way to heal, but as a way to avoid healing, a way to avoid really dealing with something, a way to avoid dealing with yourself.

How do you know the difference?

Personally, I think, What am I running away from? If I’m making jokes in order to not express anger, draw boundaries, or have an uncomfortable conversation, it’s not really helping me heal. If I’m making light of the heavy situations in my life in order to keep from falling apart, and falling apart is really what I need to do, it’s not helping me heal. But if I’m doing The Hard Work and am willing to sit with any and every emotion that comes up, then I’m practicing acceptance. That’s what you want to get to, and humor is one way to do it. After you’ve cried and raged, humor can open a door and let acceptance in. Laughter can help you really let go of the past and embrace your life not only for what it’s been, but also for what it is. “A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants” can–finally–transport you back to right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If you’re making yourself up to get someone else’s approval–stop it–because you can’t manipulate anyone into loving you. People either embrace you for who and what you are–or they don’t.

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On Phones and Boundaries (Blog #896)

Two days ago I spilled hot tea on my phone, so I shut it off, took the battery out, and put it in rice to dry out. This morning I put everything back together, and–thankfully–it’s worked fabulously ever since. That being said, I have to say it was really nice going without my phone all day yesterday. It was nice waking up this morning and not immediately being bombarded by text messages, missed calls, and whatever the hell Facebook had to say. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed just waking up slowly, then (later) eating breakfast quietly–without having to think about anyone else’s good news or bad news. I’d like to make this a habit–not looking at my phone until I’m ready to face whatever it has to say.

You know, like when I’m awake.

This afternoon I started painting the dining room at the house I’ve been working on for several weeks now. While painting I thought about how I could reasonably unplug a bit more. For the longest time I’ve done my best to unsubscribe from newsletters that don’t truly interest me. I keep my phone on silent. Still, I check it constantly, if only to see what time it is or play a certain song. But you know how it goes. You get sucked in. So today I thought, I could uninstall Facebook. Just check it on my laptop. Then I thought, Eeek. I don’t know if I’m that strong. It does come in really handy for sending messages. So I took a baby step instead. I turned off push notifications, those annoying pop up messages that tell you every time someone mentions you, comments on a post you’re following, or goes to the bathroom.

In terms of areas in which I’ve grown the most since starting therapy, believe it or not, my phone tops the list. What I mean is that I used to think every time someone called or texted me, I OWED them an immediate reply. Now–in most cases–I think, I don’t owe them anything. I’ll reply when I’m ready, if at all. If I want to. Anyway, if you’re wanting to have better boundaries, either with someone specific or the world in general, your phone is a great place to start. If you’re used to replying immediately, wait. An hour, until dinner’s over, until tomorrow. Seriously, give it a shot. The world won’t fall apart.

In my experience with not replying so quickly, I’ve found that some of my friends have handled it well and others haven’t. Sometimes I get huffy reminder texts filled with question marks. “Helllooooo?????” And whereas I get it–I live in the same fast food/immediate gratification world that you do–chill out.

Personally, I like it when people freak out over silence, since it lets me know what kind of person I’m dealing with. Have I been that person who’s freaked out before? You’re damn right I have. But I’d rather someone take their time and come back with something honest and heartfelt than off the cuff. Caroline Myss tells a story about a nun whose bishop was pressing her to reply to an email he sent, but the nun said, “Hey, buddy, you had weeks to send my your email, and I’m taking the same amount of time to reply. My answer will affect a lot of people for years to come, and I need this time to reflect on my response.”

Wow. Talk about responsible.

This evening I had dinner with a dear friend of mine, and we both purposed to put our phones away while we were eating. We each made a couple exceptions, but it made the biggest difference. For over two hours we chatted and caught up with each other. We didn’t interrupt. Instead, we listened. We laughed. My point is that–and I speak from personal experience–it’s difficult to truly be present with another person (or even yourself) when you’re constantly on your phone, thinking about what’s going on out there instead of what’s going on right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Love stands at the front door and says, “You don’t have to change a thing about yourself to come inside.”

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Each Step is Necessary (Blog #866)

This morning I finished painting a room I started painting a couple weeks ago before The Great Upset Stomach Incident of 2019. Well, I technically didn’t paint it today. Rather, I scraped paint off the windows then cleaned up the mess I made on the floor. Then I put the light switch and electrical outlet covers back on. This is all part of the process when painting a room–the details. With respect to this particular project, twenty percent of my total time was spent either getting the room ready to paint or putting it back together after having painted it.

After finishing that room, I started on another. This room was smaller than the first, but it still took over an hour to tape off the carpet around the baseboards, scrape off some old paint that was peeling inside the closet, and get the drop cloth down. Once things were prepped and ready to go, I was ready to go. That is, I took a break so I could see my chiropractor and grab lunch. Later, I came back and got one full coat of paint applied to that room. Ugh. I’d wanted to finish the whole thing tonight, but things always take longer than you want them to.

This is what tomorrow’s for.

Several days ago I figured out the rash on my arm is ringworm, a fungus. I can’t tell you how grossed out I’ve been about it. Anyway, I’ve been putting anti-fungal cream on it and, honestly, probably overdoing it. Still, although I have to admit it’s colorful to look at, I want the damn thing gone. Well, after three days of applying the cream, I couldn’t tell a difference. I thought, Maybe I’m doing something wrong. MAYBE IT’S CANCER! But then just like that, this morning, I noticed a significant positive change. Now it’s pink instead of red. There’s new skin forming. My point is that, first, if you just look at things as they are–a half-painted room, a fungus on your arm–you can’t always tell something good is happening. Second, if you’re not patient, you’ll probably get real frustrated and and think things are worse than they are.

There’s a famous tale that gets told a lot in spiritual circles. A wise man prayed that his teenage son would always be safe, and the next day his son fell off a horse and broke his leg. “How awful,” the villagers said, but the wise man stayed silent. Later when a war broke out and most the town’s youth were drafted to their ultimate demise, the wise man’s son was spared. How could he fight with a broken leg?

So often this happens in our own lives. We think something is awful, and it turns out to be good. Today my chiropractor and I talked about my current frustrations, the chief of which is that it often feels like I’m doing everything right and not getting the results I want (in my health, in my life). However, the truth is that I have a limited perspective. I look back on my life thus far and think, All of that was necessary preparation. So wouldn’t it make sense to think that what I’m living NOW–even with all its pains and frustrations–is also necessary preparation for what I will be living LATER?

Of course it would.

Each step is necessary.

My chiropractor’s suggestion was for me to see how much I could embrace. That is, often when things aren’t going how we want them to, we push against the universe. We go to work with a scowl on our face and curse and spit at every opportunity because we feel we’re being put upon by life. (Or is that just me?) But there is another option. Personally, I know I have it within me to ENJOY whatever it is I’m doing, whomever I’m around (well, almost). I can EMBRACE the moment–half-painted room, a fungus among us, this is my life right here, right now. I can recognize that everything is part of The Process. I can recognize that each step is necessary. I can recognize that all things are progressing, healing as they should.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Bodies are so mysterious, much more complicated than car doors. They take more patience to understand and work with. They require more than a couple hours to repair.

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On False Emergencies (Blog #827)

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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All emotions are useful.

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A Thousand Wallet-Sized Photos (Blog #591)

It’s two in the morning, and–I know I say this a lot, but–the day has gotten away from me. I slept in until one this afternoon, and even I thought, For crying out loud, Marcus Anderson Coker, wake up earlier. But for the last week I’ve been tired, tired, tired, like seriously dragging ass, and I haven’t been today. Rather, I woke up–how do I say this?–excited to be alive.

So maybe I just needed some serious Zs.

After an obviously late breakfast, I spent this afternoon digging through my old yearbooks–pre-kindergarten through college–because while going through old photos lately I’ve come across handfuls of unlabeled “wallets” and wanted to figure out what picture was taken when. This project took nearly three hours but definitely helped me organize both my photos and my brain. Oh yes–I had braces from sixth grade to eight grade, then I frosted my hair in high school, then I dyed it red in college, AND THEN I dyed it blue (also in college). The other thing this project did was remind me, sort of all at once, how frickin’ awkward it is to grow up or to generally be alive. I mean, the braces, the haircuts, the zits. Ugh. my senior portraits were airbrushed to hell. Not to mention the fashion.

Personally, I did the baggy shirt thing for WAY too long.

I guess about junior high, maybe a little sooner, is when the awkward thing really started for me. I found one photo taken between sixth and seventh grades from a back-to-school pool party in which I was the only guy wearing a t-shirt in the swimming pool because I didn’t like what puberty did to my nipples. I realize this level of criticism is normal. You hit puberty, and EVERYTHING changes–some things for the better, some things for the worse. At some point, you end up despising your own body. (If this wasn’t your experience with puberty, just wait until your metabolism slows down or your breasts start to sag.) But I never remember thinking ANYTHING was wrong before puberty. NOTHING was too big, too small, too anything. It just was. Now I think most things are–too something, that is. Like, I don’t care for my posture, and when I look back at my junior high photos I think, That’s when I started slouching. So not do I pick on the current me, I also pick on the former me.

And he’s not even here to defend himself.

Not that I want to go back to the age I was in elementary school when everything was all “ain’t life great,” but I would like to go back to that level of self-acceptance and self-kindness.

This evening after dinner I went to Fort Smith to help my aunt with her internet and do a couple odd jobs. Then I went to a friend’s house to help them with a phone/computer thing, and since phone/computer things always take MUCH longer than expected, ended up eating dinner again. “Have you eaten,” my friend said. “Well, yes,” I said, “but I’m ALWAYS hungry.” Anyway, this is where the bulk of my evening was spent, at my friend’s house, working and catching up. We laughed, laughed, laughed. This is so important, I think, since it’s really easy to stay at home, dig through your memories, get stuck in your head, and take both yourself and your life way too seriously.

So that’s my two cents for tonight–if you know someone who makes you laugh, ask them if you can come over. (Tell ’em you’ll fix their phone or computer.)

When I got home from my friend’s, it was nearly midnight, and I’d intended to start blogging right away. But then I decided to crop all the “photos of yearbook photos” I took while going through my annuals this afternoon, AND THEN I thought, Wouldn’t it be nice to have them all lined up neat and orderly, like in a collage? AND THAT turned into a nearly two-hour long project that involved not only learning how to use a new phone app, but also doing my damndest to not demand perfection of myself.

Maybe that photo should be a little bigger and slightly to the left.

This is apparently a lesson I’ve been trying to learn for a while, the not demanding perfection of myself thing. While looking through my college yearbooks (for three of four of which I was the editor), I noticed a “letter from the editor” in which I said, “You’ll find plenty of mistakes here. But like life, this is meant to be fun.”

This is meant to be fun, Marcus.

I don’t know, if I got to someone’s Instagram feed and find nothing but “perfect” photos, like every single frickin’ one is magazine-quality beautiful, I think, Bitch, please. Because that’s not real life; it’s not even close. Real life is awkward smiles, bad haircuts, and zits on your face. It’s crooked teeth, a stain on your (baggy) shirt, and posture that’s never quite “right.” It’s everything you could fit into a thousand wallet-sized photos. At the same time, it’s not that–because real life is REAL life. It’s something that’s lived, not something that’s captured with a camera. It’s whatever time you woke up today, whatever you did this afternoon, and the sound of two friends laughing. It’s whatever is happening right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Love  is all around us.

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Slow Down, Sweetheart (Blog #253)

Currently I’m waiting for my daily selfie to load. My internet is slow, slow, slow. Last night I had a dream that I’d returned to school, only this time for a visit. After parking, I walked into a classroom. My best friend from high school was there, as was a teacher I didn’t care for. As I walked out of the room, I passed a kid who used to beat me up, stepped over a straight girl who fell in love with me a while back. (Bye, Felicia.) Wanting to go to the office, I ended up outside. There was another teacher I didn’t like far away, and a sort of picnic going on in the courtyard. I woke up when I got to the band. (There was a band.) The dream was uncomfortable because the entire time it felt as if I was walking through mud. Like my present internet speed, I was moving in slow motion. (Slow motion for me.)

I can’t tell you how frustrating it was.

Now it’s three-thirty in the afternoon, and I’m rushing, trying to get through this blog so I can meet my family for my lunch, their dinner. (This happens a lot when you live with senior citizens.) For the last twelve weeks Mom has been getting chemotherapy every Friday, and they always go out to eat afterwards. I’ve only met them a couple times, but today is kind of a big deal, since it’s Mom’s LAST chemotherapy. I mean, she gets to ring a bell! (Apparently it’s a thing.) Anyway, I technically just at breakfast, but I want to celebrate this milestone with my mama. Come on, creativity, come on.

Yesterday I wasn’t in the best mood. If nothing else is going on, this is usually a pretty good indication that I’m not feeling well. True to form, I did have more drainage than normal yesterday, and some of it was green-ish. (It’s gross, I know, but this is the place where I get to be honest.) Anyway, I stepped up the antihistamines, vitamins, and teas, and did another kimchi treatment last night. Y’all, I feel so much better today–less drainage, less color. Again, it’s not a miracle, but it’s close enough. The biggest improvement is that I woke up on the right side of the bed. I was dancing while making breakfast! Yesterday it was the blues, and today it’s Motown.

Things are looking up.

I’m still chewing on the dream I had last night, but my gut says it had it do with patience. In one sense, I know I’ve come a long way, slowly walked through the classroom of life and learned a lot of lessons. The bullies and fruitless relationships are behind me. Still, I’m not wherever it is I’m going (the office). As I said earlier, this is frustrating. In this sense, the dream isn’t a mystery. I constantly look ahead at where I’m not. Every day feels as if I’m not moving fast enough.

There’s a lot of magic around you.

Yesterday on Facebook my sister shared a song by Macklemore and Kesha. The song is called Good Old Days and says, “Some day soon your whole life’s gonna change–you’ll miss the magic of these good old days.” Honestly, I often forget to see the blessings of where I am because I want my life to change–I think it will be better, that I will be happier. I forget that there’s a lot of magic around me (a picnic with a band!), that I get to sleep in, let my body heal and find balance. Not everyone can do that. I forget that I can go out to eat with my parents, be close by while my mom is fighting cancer. Last night we both stayed up late and shared some egg rolls while watching our respective television shows. Who knows how many more times that will happen? So today I’m reminding myself that these truly are magic moments, moments not everyone gets to have, moments that even for me won’t last forever. Slow down, Marcus. Slow down, sweetheart. There’s a lot to enjoy here. And don’t worry, you’ll still get there–wherever that is.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Life doesn’t need us to boss it around.

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