The Giving (Blog #1090)

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Last night after I posted the blog and as I crawled into bed, I was dead tired. My neck, back, and shoulders ached. I am so over this shit, I thought. Ready to pass out. But then I started thinking about myofascial release and about how almost four years ago I saw a rolfing therapist (rolfing is a form of bodywork that also works with fascia) who did a release on my sinuses by sticking his finger up my nose. (No kidding. I tell the entire story in a live video here.) Well, you guessed it. Lying in bed, I stuck my pinky on the inside of my nostril (first one, then the other) and applied gentle pressure until I felt any tension relax. And whereas I know this sounds odd, oh my god, y’all, I could feel the release into my neck and shoulders, into this knot that’s been there, I don’t know, over two years now. Seriously, just like that, it unraveled, like, thirty percent.

The idea behind working with your fascia is that everything in your body is connected. The way a spider web or sweater is. All knitted together. This is why especially by working with your internal fascia (by entering through an orifice, if you must know), you can affect changes throughout your entire body. In terms of my sinuses, I imagine they affected my neck because 1) things got “cinched down” through years of stopping tears, 2) things got “crunched up” due to any number of car accidents, or 3) things constricted when I had my sinus surgery. This last possible explanation is apparently a common occurrence, since surgeries actually cut the fascia, thus causing scarring and bunching. Think of the way your clothes are never the same after they’re mended or sewn back together. There’s always a pull somewhere.

What I’m learning, however, is that, with a little help, the body can repair itself, stretch itself back out or whatever needs to be done. If you’ve never had myofascial release or felt something let go and reverberate throughout your body, think of what happens when kids scrunch up the paper wrapper that goes around a straw. That’s the constriction. Then think of what happens when they drop some water on the scrunched-up paper. Like magic, it unfurls. That’s the release.

Tonight’s blog is #1090 in a row and begins my final week of this three-year-long project. Said another way, one week from tonight I’ll be done. Scratching my head. Probably writing to myself, What do I do now? But not posting it. Regardless, this is my last Tuesday post.

Wow.

Daddy needs a break.

Recently a dear friend asked, “What are you stopping the blog?” Hum. That’s a good question. My answer being, “In short, I’m tired.” Meaning this entire thing really has taken a lot out of me. Granted, it’s given so much more, but there’s still been The Taking. Of my time. Of my creative resources. Of my emotions. God, I’m surprised my keyboard hasn’t shorted out from all the tears. Suffice it to say it’s been exhausting, and Daddy needs a break. More than this, however, it’s simply time. That is, a little over three years ago I “just knew” I needed to start this thing, at some point I “just knew” it needed to last three years, and now I “just know” it’s time to stop. Everyone knows when a good meal, however delightful, is over, and, well, this one is. It’s time for me to go home now.

The thing being, of course, that this blog has brought me home. To myself. That’s the way I see it. That for years, decades, I was wandering about the world not really knowing who I was, what I was about, or what I was capable of. Then my ex acted like a total shit (seriously, he was fabulous at being an ass), and I started therapy (six years ago today, in fact). Not that one ever knows when their journey begins (I think we’re on it from our first breath, if not before), but that’s when mine began. Then this blog came along and really kicked it into high gear. If therapy was like getting a bachelor’s degree in understanding myself and my emotions, this blog has been like getting a master’s. Or even a doctorate.

Well, sooner or later, everyone graduates.

I just said that my journey began when I started therapy, but it would be more accurate to say that my dark night of the soul began when I started therapy. The dark night of the soul (or dark night of the ego, as Robert Ohotto calls it) simply being a technical undoing of the major patterns in one’s life that no longer serve them. Caroline Myss says that when we ask ourselves, “Why was I born, why was I given life?” that’s really not a question. “It’s a prayer,” she says. “To God. Who else do you think is qualified to answer such a thing?” Well, apparently this is a dangerous prayer to pray, since, according to Myss, when you ask it you’re in effect saying, “Show me why my soul chose to come here,” the answer to which, by necessity, involves a stripping away of all the strategies, beliefs, and systems you’ve come up with during the course of your life that are NOT in alignment with your soul’s calling.

Enter the dark night.

The dark night mostly sucks.

As I’ve experienced it over the last many years, the dark night mostly sucks. Which is why for the longest time I’ve said that I don’t recommend this path (even though I do). Because it’s painful. You lose your shit (or at least you lose your attachment to it), you lose your friends (or at least the ones that aren’t a good fit anymore), and you damn near lose your mind (the divine has this effect on a person). Part of the reason being, according to Ohotto, that the dark night is a holding pattern, meaning that you feel and are powerless. This is why I’ve said over and over again that I’ve tried, tried, tried everything under the sun to heal, grow, and be successful but have again and again come up with peanuts. As it turns out, this has been by design, on purpose. Meaning that I needed to spin my wheels in order to let my old ways, my old life, peter out. “The divine can’t let you experience what you want during the dark night,” Ohotto says, “because you’d just go back to doing things the way you did them before.”

And that way clearly wasn’t working.

According to both Myss and Ohotto, our entire world has, thanks to COVID-19, recently and collectively entered the dark night process. Meaning that, from a technical standpoint, a number of things haven’t been working for a while now and need to be deactivated. Of course, this sounds good if you say it fast, but expect (even more) weeping and gnashing of teeth. Expect your old life to be gone in the blink of an eye (sorry, bye bye now), and expect to feel and be powerless. Expect the whole thing to suck.

All dark nights come to an end.

The good news, however, is that all dark nights come to an end. Sometimes after months, sometimes after years, but they do eventually move on. What’s left on the other side? Something better, something more in alignment with your soul, the soul of humanity, and with God. Feeling like I’m on the tail end of my personal dark night, I’m experiencing not only more joy and inner peace, but also more power. Or agency. That is, whereas for years I’ve felt like I was getting nowhere, lately I’ve been feeling like I’m getting somewhere, everywhere. Largely thanks to a number of different therapies and medical techniques I’ve been trying, I’m actually starting to believe, “Wait a damn minute, I can heal. I can be successful. I can really do something with this life I’ve been given.”

With the holding pattern/powerless idea in mind, I’m honestly not sure that the specific therapies and techniques I’ve been using matter. I’ve talked about and love them, of course–upper cervical care, EMDR, myofascial release–but apparently this whole thing has been a divine setup from the beginning. Meaning that when you’re in the dark night, nothing you do will work. Because you’ve got to learn to surrender. And not take credit for everything. Because life can get more done with you when you’re humble. Then, after you’ve gone through hell and have risen from the ashes, things will start working again. So sure, I’m getting a lot of mileage from putting my finger up my nose, but perhaps if I’d stumbled across yoga now instead of five years ago, I’d be in child’s pose instead of child’s nose. So take this to heart if you’re spinning your wheels. Maybe it’s not about you and what you’re doing. Maybe it’s about timing.

Getting back to why I’m ending this blog, I honestly think it’s because long, long ago (in a galaxy far, far away), I signed up to spend three years going through and talking daily about the dark night (but not necessarily what comes after it). In order to help myself heal, sure, but also to help others heal. So that we could all believe a little more, or maybe a lot more, not only that things get better, but also that we get better–together. Because no one is alone here. This is my encouragement to anyone, whether you’re going through a transition/transformation individually, collectively, or both. Hang in there. This process will, by definition, take something from you. (And that will suck.) Everything comes with a price. But you’ll be better, more beautiful, more content, more confident, and more you on the other side. (And this will be more lovely than you can imagine.) This is The Giving.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"The heart sings for its own reasons."

A New Way of Living (Blog #1082)

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Today I taught two dance lessons. I know, touching people. But we all washed out hands first, and Daddy’s gotta make a living. Groceries and toilet paper, after all, don’t pay for themselves. Anyway, after two full days of being “locked up” at home, it was nice, just to get out and see people. This evening I went to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions for me and my parents and ended up having a long conversation (in line) with a friend’s son. How about that? A conversation! Of course, it was about COVID-19, but it was still good to connect.

This, I think, is one of the good things coming from this whole mess. Most of us aren’t shaking hands, but we’re empathizing with and understanding each other in ways we perhaps haven’t in a long time. One of my gay friends ranted that, in effect, this is what it’s like to be afraid of catching a virus you don’t deserve. And whereas I think he came off a little strong (a lot of people are angry right now), I still think he had a point. All too often when other people suffer, we find some reason to blame the victim, I suppose in order to distance ourselves from the idea–the fact–that IT could happen to us. HIV is just for gay people. Sinners. Oh, she wasn’t wearing her seat belt? No wonder she broke her neck.

As if being straight or wearing a seat belt somehow magically excuses you from life’s challenges and tragedies. Or from being compassionate. Please.

I’m not saying you should’t be smart, of course. When you’re in a car, buckle up. When you have sex, as my therapist so delicately says, wear a raincoat. When you do anything for the next several months (or longer), wash your hands. And yet the fact remains that, no matter what you do, this virus in an equal-opportunity invader. It doesn’t care what color your skin is, who you sleep with, or how much money you have. Or what religion you are or aren’t. In this, it reminds us that WE ARE ALL EQUAL. Whether we want to admit it or not.

Intuitive Robert Ohotto says that things like COVID-19 only come around when something down here on planet earth isn’t working. To me this means that from a larger, mystical viewpoint, life is always trying to “correct” itself, to bring balance where balance is needed. Now, I know that from the ground level things look like a shit-show. And I know that the pain and suffering and death are awful. But I also know that anything that causes us to slow down, question our values, reconnect with each other, and be kinder to one another is, well, not 100 percent bad. Who among us hasn’t had something “terrible” happen only to look back later and say, “I grew a lot from that, it really taught me something”? I mean, the day Jesus was crucified was a BAD DAY for Jesus and a lot of his homeboys and homegirls. And yet the whole thing has worked out nicely in terms of human history. My point being that it’s difficult to judge bad and good when you don’t have all the facts. When you don’t have a cosmic perspective.

Something I’ve heard a lot of talk about since COVID-19 really amped up is that although this could go on for months, life (and the stock market) should, eventually, return to normal. With all due respect, I should hope not. (Why, Marcus?) Because if something of this magnitude comes into our lives, I would hope that we and our lives are not the same afterwards. Because let’s face it–we’ve had a lot of room for improvement for a damn while now. And as uncomfortable as a trial like this can be, the point–one of them–is that it SHOULD change us, transform us.

Into something better.

This is how I’ve come to think and feel about the tribulations in my life. All the shit things that have come out of nowhere and knocked me to the ground. Have they sucked? You bet. Would I want them to happen again or wish them upon my worst enemy? Hell no. But at the same time I wouldn’t be without them. Because, in a very loud voice, the hardest times in my life have taken me by the hand and said, “Sweetheart, we can’t live like this any longer. It’s time to grow. It’s time to become something more.” This is how this current journey started for me. For months I was depressed, and I finally realized it was my soul telling me it couldn’t stand, well, my life as it was. Owning the studio, doing the same old thing. So I closed the studio, sold almost everything, and here I am now. Living with my parents. Writing. Happier. Because I’m doing something that satisfies my soul. Now when everything falls apart, I think, This has God’s name written all over it (because who else could turn your life upside down so thoroughly?), and, Things will come together soon enough.

Along these lines, I’ve often wondered and even asked God why things have to fall apart in the first place. WHY must we be forced or strongly encouraged to find a new way of living? And whereas I don’t think God has to explain himself/herself/itself to anyone (and therefore doesn’t), what makes sense to me is this answer–

Because the old way wasn’t working.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No one dances completely alone.

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On Creating Time (Blog #1002)

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Today I’ve been thinking about how we create time. (I’ll explain.) Caroline Myss says that the divine works in present time, in vertical time, where thought moves into form like a lightening flash. God says, “Let there be light,” and there is. Like, instantly, not in the amount of time it takes to earn a college degree or pass a bill through Congress. Conversely, most of us earthlings work in non-present or past and future time, in horizontal time. We say, “Let there be a pot roast,” and–well–we’re looking at waiting the better part of an afternoon, anywhere from four to eight hours for a seven pound hunk of meat using a crock pot.

How do you cook a pot roast faster, Marcus?

You turn up the heat, of course. You switch your dial from low to high.

Yesterday I touched on the idea that we can decide how quickly we want to get over something–anything from a minor irritation to a gigantic heartache–by (in part) refusing to give it our attention and thus keeping it alive. For example, this afternoon while driving I momentarily crossed into the other (wrong) lane in an effort to get into the turning lane. Well, there was a car coming down the other lane (toward me), but they were far enough away (I thought) as to not be dangerous. Alas, the lady driving the oncoming car apparently disagreed, since she laid on her horn like it was going out of style.

“Did you see her flip you the bird?” my dad said.

“No,” I said, “I try not to look at people when I KNOW they’re angry with me.”

Now, could I have handled this better? Probably. But you know how we all make in-the-moment decisions that aren’t always the best in hindsight. I figure this is part of driving. People pull out in front of me all the time, and usually (but not always) I just think they’re in a hurry or that God wants me to learn patience. Hell, maybe they’re doing me a favor, slowing me down and allowing me to miss some horrific accident down the road. You never know. God works in mysterious ways. Anyway, this afternoon when the lady flipped me off, instead of taking it personally like I have in the past, I kept hearing my therapist say, “People choose their reactions.” Like, the bird lady could have CHOSEN to be gracious.

The lesson being that people’s responses have almost everything to do with them and almost nothing to do with you. Not that I’m recommending TRYING to piss people off, but let’s face it, that lady would have flipped ANYONE off who got in her way. So it really didn’t have anything to do with me.

In other words–and here’s a phrase that’s full of grace should you choose to use it for yourself–it wasn’t personal.

Getting back to the idea of creating time, had I CHOSEN to obsess about what a rotten driver I am or what a turd bucket that lady was, I could have dragged this three-second incident out for hours, days, or weeks. Instead, it was over IN MY MIND in three minutes because I convinced myself it wasn’t worth my mental and emotional resources to keep it alive. Now, I know this example may seem silly, but let’s drive things home (in the correct lane, of course). Recently I heard a story about a woman who, upon FIRST MEETING SOMEONE told them she’d divorced her cheating husband and was absolutely in shambles because he’d fallen in love with her best friend. And whereas my therapist would say this woman had bad boundaries (because you don’t talk about your personal shit to total strangers), here’s the kicker–

all of this happened nineteen years ago.

Consequently, this woman’s body was right here, right now, but her spirit was stuck in the Clinton Administration.

This is what I mean by dragging things out and creating time. When I was with my ex there was a night I got a call from a friend who told me my ex was cheating. Deep down I knew it was true. Had I been willing to move as fast as my intuition (which, incidentally works in present time), to “change as fast as God,” it could have been over that night. I could have moved out the next day. Instead, because I didn’t want to face the truth (as is always the case when we create time), I was with him another five months. Now, I know it could have been worse–some people stay in bad situations for years, decades–but it was a miserable five months.

My aunt’s visiting from out of town this weekend, and earlier today we ended up talking about paper and clutter because we each tend to let things pile up before going through them. Anyway, she said, “I’ve read that the goal with paper is to handle it just once.” Like, you put it in its proper pile and move on with your life. Instead, most of us shuffle this here, shove that there. We say, “I’ll deal with it later.” Consequently, we drag things out and slow things down. We create time. What could be done in five seconds goes on five weeks, five years. And whereas it may not be a big deal to not deal with your TJ MAXX receipts, it is a big deal to not deal with your dramas, traumas, and relationships.

I once knew a grown woman who was absolutely petrified of dogs–any breed, any size. She could see one on a leash blocks away and start running like Florence Griffith Joyner. She never said what the deal was, so I can only assume something terrible happened when she was younger. Anyway, intuitive Robert Ohotto calls this sort of reaction “a time warp.” In other words, in present time there wasn’t a problem. Here’s a lady, there’s a dog a mile away. But in her past-oriented mind, it was a big damn deal. She would tremble. She would cry. This is why the master Jesus taught letting the dead bury the dead and giving no thought for tomorrow. Not because he was insensitive, but because there’s such a heavy price to pay for not being right here, right now.

This is why he taught forgiveness. Not because it’s a holy thing to do, but because it’s a powerful thing to do. Because it keeps you from being stuck in the past.

In the Clinton Administration.

According to Myss, the more we’re stuck or anchored in the past, the slower our life moves. “The more psychic WEIGHT you have,” she says, “the more you have to WAIT for anything [getting a new job, finding a lover, or healing] to happen.” In other words, the faster YOU change, the faster your LIFE will change. This sounds great, of course, but most of us prefer cooking our pot roasts at a slower, lower heat as opposed to a faster, hotter heat because–quite frankly–we can’t stand the heat. For one thing, most of society moves at–at best–a medium, lukewarm speed, and it’s never fun to outrun your friends and family. It’s lonely at the top and whatever. For another, most of us LIKE holding on to the past. We enjoy not forgiving.

Because we get to be right. We get to make other people feel guilty.

We get to flip total strangers the bird.

[FYI, the above pictures are of me and my friends Kate and Aaron and their son, the main connection to tonight’s blog being that they were taken tonight (when we all went out for Tacos). Although we didn’t plan it, we all wore denim jackets. This is one tie-in to creating time I considered writing about but didn’t because I want to go bed. That is, our wearing the same jackets is an example of a synchronicity, and, according to Myss, the more you live your life in present time, the more synchronicities will occur for you.]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our struggles unearth our strengths.

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His Jar Is Always Open (Blog #960)

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When I was teenager, I worked at a summer camp in Mississippi. Simply put, it was a magical experience. Especially that first summer when I was sixteen. Life back home was difficult, and summer camp was an oasis. I made friends I still keep in touch with over twenty years later, played silly games, taught kids how to canoe. And whereas I could go on and on about this, the point is that when I got back home, I TRIED telling important people in my life what a transformative experience it was, and they were like, “Oh? That’s nice. We have a pot roast for dinner.” In short, at least from my perspective, they didn’t “get” it.

My response? I stopped talking about summer camp, stopped sharing my stories about the place that meant so much to me.

Now I realize those people weren’t meant to get it. When Dorothy came back from the Land of Oz, she was simply over the moon–er, rainbow–about all that had happened to her (“And you were there, and you were there!”), but her family was convinced it was a dream. Why? Because they hadn’t been where she’d been. It was Dorothy’s trip alone. Still, what a shame it would have been for her (or L. Frank Baum) to have kept her story to herself. Think how much poorer the world would have been.

I say all this because I recently had an experience that was very special to me but have been hesitant to share it, in part because I don’t think I can quite convey it with words, in part because even if I could, I’m sure there would still be those who doubt it. On Facebook I recently read about someone else’s similar experience, and one of their “friends” said, “This is confirmation bias at its finest.” My therapist’s comment to this was, “You know, everyone on the internet thinks they’re an expert about everything.” Anyway, everyone else’s opinion be damned. More and more it’s enough for me to trust my own experiences. More and more I’m willing to authentically share anything and everything about my life and let people get it or not. Plus–and this is the most important thing–I know that I’ve found help and encouragement from the stories of others, so perhaps others can find help and encouragement from mine.

So with that (I know) very long prologue, let us proceed.

Earlier this summer I took an online class with intuitive Robert Ohotto, and our first “assignment” was to draw a card from Caroline Myss’s archetype deck, the idea being that whatever card you drew would 1) not be accidental and 2) would be important for some reason. While taking this class I blogged about shifting from old patterns of thought and behavior to new ones, so I thought of this card simply as a pattern (or archetypal energy) that wanted to emerge from within me. (This is the part where I don’t want to be misunderstood.) I drew the GOD card.

Now, one could obviously get a big head about identifying with this card, but, to be clear, we’re talking about archetypes, not being literal. That is, meditating on or associating yourself with this card isn’t about feeling superior to anyone else or believing that you can shoot lighting bolts out of your butt. (Although that would be cool, albeit painful.) Rather, as the card says, it’s about recognizing the eternal force that resides within you. As I’ve said a number of times, I often think of myself as weak, so for me it’s been about recognizing that I’m more powerful than I give myself credit for. Anyway, I’ve had the card on my altar all summer.

So get this shit.

Last Saturday (a week ago tomorrow) one of the first things I saw when I woke up was a post from my friend Tina, a dancer I met on one of my trips to Austin. Tina said she’d recently had a transformative experience with an intuitive artist named Charles, that all she did was text Charles her name and that he drew a picture of her–not her physically, but her emotionally, spiritually. She also said that included with his drawing (which Charles did and does strictly on a donation basis), Charles offered a phone call to EXPLAIN both his process and what her particular drawing might be about. Well, I’m pretty intrigued by and open to this sort of thing, so before I crawled out of bed I texted Charles my name. Immediately he texted back, “Yes, of course. I’ll have it done within a couple days.”

Here’s the drawing he sent me this last Monday night.

Considering the archetype card I drew earlier this summer, which, by the way, only me and my therapist have known about, I was blown away when I saw Charles’s drawing. Plus, I instantly and intuitively felt it to be “true” on a number of levels. For example, the guy in the drawing (me) clearly is keeping his emotions in a jar, and that’s something I admittedly do and have written about it extensively. Granted, I’m better about shoving my emotions down than I used to be, but still, it’s sort of my thing. As Charles would explain later, “You’re using your willpower [right side] to keep your emotions in check.”

By the time I spoke to Charles on the phone (a day after I got the drawing), I thought I’d noticed everything about the drawing there was to notice. How wrong I was. But first, let’s back up. Charles said whenever he draws someone, he firsts asks God (whom he calls Yahweh), “Show me Marcus, show me whoever.” He said, “The idea is that this image is both how the universe sees you and how you see yourself. It’s your past, it’s your present, and it’s a tool for moving into your future or full potential.” Then he explained that, much like in a dream, “Everything in the drawing is you.” This means the two columns are me, the guy is me, the jar is me, and so on.

I won’t go on about every detail, but, for example, I told Charles that the two pillars in my life were my family and my therapist, and he replied, “Okay, life is a mirror and a hologram, so that means that your family and your therapist simply reflect back to you those parts of yourself that are strong, solid, or whatever.”

Overall, Charles said the main message of the image was about balancing my masculine (right side) and feminine (left side) energies. Notice how my right side is crying, but my left side isn’t. Notice how there’s a ring (which stands for commitment) on my left side but not my right. The other main message, he said, was about not just feeling and expressing my emotions, but also not being selective about with whom I share my love (hearts in the jar) and wisdom (Greek-like senator or philosopher in “The Thinker” position).

For over an hour, Charles and I went through the whole illustration. “There are no accidents,” he said. “The blue-white robe represents communication. The nipple represents sensitivity and nurturing. The clouds represent three masculine figures in your life and two feminine. The foot represents boundaries [as in, put your foot down]. The fact that there are more golden leaves on the right side than the left and that you noticed? That’s about your perfectionism [guilty]. Enjoy the imperfections!”

I’d say Charles’s drawing “nailed me” and that his suggested interpretations were ninety percent accurate or better. In my experience with intuitives and counselors, this is an extremely high percentage. Plus, as I’ve continued to meditate on his drawing this week, I’ve found it to be true on multiple levels. For example, I can identify the three masculine and two feminine figures represented by the clouds, and I can also associate the clouds with the five major creative ideas or projects I’ve started (three having to do with the blog, two having to do with the world of young adult fiction).

These details are endlessly fascinating to me, but the detail or idea I keep coming back to is one I blogged about last night–the importance of the heart, the importance of having it as my guiding force (over my head), the importance of not keeping any part of myself shoved down simply because I might be afraid of someone else’s reaction or lack of support. (As indicated in the drawing, I have plenty of support already.) Charles said, “You probably gave your heart to someone in the past and ended up getting punched in the bread basket!” (Accurate.) But I know now that the love inside me is never diminished by someone else’s ability to recognize or receive it. Plus, God doesn’t love us only if we “get” it. His hand doesn’t hold anything back. His jar is always open.

[If you’re interested in working with Charles, text your first name to Charles Prophet, 971-283-3600. Be prepared for wisdom, support, and encouragement. And fabulously bad jokes.]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Life is never just so. Honestly, it’s a big damn mess most of the time.

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On Answers I Need (Blog #879)

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Yesterday I read in Gayle Delaney’s Living Your Dreams that you can incubate your dreams, or rather, ask your subconscious questions and get answers in the form of dreams. And whereas I’ve tried this before with little success, Delaney suggested a technique I hadn’t tried, so I gave it a shot last night and asked about my tension headaches. “What’s causing them and what can I do about them?” I wrote in my dream journal. Then I thought of everything I’ve tried to help my headaches, reasons I might find them “useful” (because they help me slow down), and whether or not and how I’d be willing to change so they could go away. Then I concentrated on my question until I fell asleep.

The theory behind dream incubation says that even if you don’t dream about your specific subject in question the night you ask about it–and you probably won’t–assume that whatever you do dream about is you answer. (Why, Marcus?) Because your subconscious, which speaks in symbols, is smart, is listening, and wants to help.

That’s the theory, at least.

In response to my asking about my tension headaches, what my subconscious offered me was a series of four or five dreams, which at first blush had nothing to do with one another. However, again, dream theory says that one night’s dreams usually amount to one topic or message. In other words, your subconscious repeats itself (because most of us don’t get it the first time). Sure enough, after waking up this morning and writing down my dreams, I realized they all dealt largely with one subject–men. And whereas for time’s sake I’ll spare you ALL the specific dream details, I will share some highlights and what I’m taking away from them. Before I do, since my dreams fit this pattern, I should say that another facet of dream theory says that a series of dreams will often communicate–this is what’s been going on (past), this is what’s going on (present), and this is what will go on (future).

In terms of the past, my first dream took place in a forest, a place I felt lost. There I was taking pictures, which I sometimes associate with watching other people live their lives and not really living your own. Specifically, I was taking pictures of Patrick Swayze, whom I take to be the quintessential talented, hot man. Also, he happens to be (or was) a dancer, like I am. This commonality between one’s self and a dream figure/celebrity is a clue, Delaney says, that the figure represents part of you that you haven’t fully recognized, owned, or integrated (talented, hot). Lastly, I should say that in my dream Patrick Swayze had a naked butt.

If only your dreams were so good.

In terms of my present, my second dream involved my speaking to some friends about housesitting, which I’ve been doing a lot of lately. During the conversation I mention that as a house sitter I sometimes put the mail in the wrong place. As I do, I notice I feel embarrassed. (See Patrick Swayze above: em-bare-assed). Later I’m at a tennis court, which I associate with waiting (and a lot of back-and-forth), something I definitely feel I’m doing a bit of lately, especially in terms of healing. Anyway, then I’m back with one of my friends that I’d describe as a hard worker (and sometimes sick), and I put my head in his lap. As I do, I imagine that he feels somewhat uncomfortable.

In terms of my future, my third dream involved me waiting (waiting again) on a pilot (someone who helps things “take off”). Eventually, one comes, someone I’d call passionate and confident. Later, one (hot) straight man is congratulating another because he (the second one) is about to go to the moon. As this is going on, I have my hand on the first guy’s right shoulder. (Incidentally, my right shoulder has been hurting for a while now.) Then this guy and I have a conversation about straight guys and gay guys, and it feels like there’s mutual respect and understanding between us.

I said earlier that for me the theme that ties these dreams together is men. What I mean is that for the longest time I felt like straight guys were “real men” but gay guys weren’t. That I wasn’t. This is evidenced in my first dream about watching other people live their lives and not recognizing my own gifts and abilities but rather being embarrassed by who I am. I could go on for a long time about this because I don’t think I came to this I’m-less-of-a-person-because-I’m-gay idea on my own. Indeed, having grown up in the south, in the church, and in a Christian school, I know I didn’t. But it’s not just these groups. Our society as a whole teaches that straight men are simply better than gay men in every way (well, except maybe decorating and–I don’t know–keeping our nails clean). Even better if you’re straight, white, and rich. Robert Ohotto says that when he intuitively reads a gay man’s energy system, they almost always show signs of being abused even if they haven’t been abused physically or sexually. Why? Because when a society systematically teaches a person that who they are is wrong, shameful, different, strange, bad, embarrassing, and less-than, that’s abuse.

This would, of course, apply to almost all minorities, including women.

For me, my second dream is about my beginning to make peace with the misconceptions I grew up with. This is evidenced by my saying that I sometimes put the mail (the male) in the wrong place. That is, sometimes I think that because a man is straight or rich (productive) while I’m gayly house sitting or, um, waiting for something else to come along, that somehow makes him more of a human, more worthy than I am. I often mention my thinking I need to always be productive, and I think my putting my head in the lap of my friend who’s a hard worker is indicative of the part of me that needs to rest and the part of me that needs to work coming to terms with each other. Like my friend in the dream (who’s me, really), I’m not always comfortable with this because–again–the idea of productivity has been pretty drilled into me.

“Real men are productive.”

My therapist says that one nice thing about my being gay is that I don’t have to play by the same rules as the rest of society. I can say, “Fuck you and your productivity, straighties!” Ultimately, I think the answer for me is in my third dream, the one that featured the guy who goes to the moon, which I associate with the feminine. Not that I’m going to GO to the feminine, but I am working on integrating my masculine and feminine sides. This is something I think everyone should do–because we all have them. Also, I’m working on having a mutual respect and understanding for not just straight guys, but also for all guys–because if you think there aren’t “better” and “less-than” in the gay world, you’re mistaken. (As Jack McFarland says, “No pecs, no sex.). I guess we all create hierarchies. But the truth is we’re all equal, we’re all even.

Now, will any of this help my headaches? Hell if I know. I’ve had a killer one all evening. But whether or not my dreams have the answers to MY questions, I am convinced that they have answers, answers I need.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The truth doesn’t suck.

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On Transformation and the Dark Night (Blog #870)

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This afternoon I continued painting the bathroom I started painting yesterday. It’s coming along. Today I rolled on a second coat, and the walls went from being one-coat-blah to there-we-go-that’s-nice. The more I paint, the more I’m reminded of the lessons it teaches. For one thing, nothing happens all at once. There’s always a process. One coat, two coats, sometimes three (all these coats get paint on me). For another, every process involves waiting. I always want to get projects done in one day, but painting goes better when you don’t–because the paint needs time to dry. Plus, whenever you walk away from something, you can come back to it later with a new perspective.

For as many rooms as I’ve painted over the years, I’m continually amazed by The Process. Both before the first brushstroke and after the last one, I stare at a room in amazement. Before I think, This is such a mess. How am I going to do this? After I think, Wow! I did it. This is SO MUCH better. Suddenly all the hard work and long hours become worth it.

Hard work and long hours are the only way I’ve found to turn a room around, by the way. You’ve simply got to put in the time and you’ve got to break a sweat (or pay someone else to) if you want solid results. Knowing this, I still get overwhelmed. Just today I thought, I’m never going to get this bathroom done. But then I reminded myself that in that moment it wasn’t my job to paint the entire bathroom. Rather, in that moment it was my job to paint the square foot of wall in front of me. Just that one square foot. So that’s what I did. Over and over again, I concentrated on the section of wall in front of me, and–eventually–I covered the whole room. This is how I’ve written 870 consecutive blogs (including tonight’s)–one blog at a time.

As I was painting today I thought a lot about change (for obvious reasons). Stephan Hoeller points out that there are three types of change–cyclical change (as in the seasons), linear change (as in growing older or trading in one vehicle or outfit for another), and transformational change (as in a caterpillar becoming a butterfly). Transformational change involves the death of an old life (the caterpillar) and the birth of a new one (the butterfly). Sticking with the house metaphor, transformational change would involve knocking down old walls and putting up new ones. (At the very least painting a wall and rearranging, or better yet, buying all new furniture–preferably nothing cheap from IKEA unless, of course, you’re in college). Hoeller says this is really why we’re down here on planet earth–not to learn something, but to transform–though few of us are willing to put in the hard work and time required to do so.

Jesus said, “Behold, all things are become new,” and I would say this is the test as to whether the process of transformation (not just linear change) has begun in your life. Is EVERYTHING at least starting to look different than it used to? Robert Ohotto explains it this way. When you have a pattern of behavior (let’s say you’re a perfectionist or a people pleaser), that pattern touches every relationship in your life. Because that pattern CREATED every relationship in your life. Well, let’s say you wake up one day and have the little thought, I’d like to stop being such a hard ass about everything, or I’d like to stop giving a shit what everyone else thinks of me. If you’re serious–whoops! This means that everything your perfectionist or people pleaser created–every relationship–now has to shift, perhaps crumble, in order to make room for more productive patterns and their subsequent creations to step in.

So look out.

This shift in relationships (to other people, to money, to yourself) is what has traditionally been referred to as The Dark Night of the Soul and what Ohotto calls The Dark Night of the Ego (because what’s dark for your soul?). Quite frankly, it’s the process I’ve been going through these last five plus years, and, although it’s a necessary part of transformation, it’s not fun. It’s why I say the truth will set you free (sort of) and why I say I don’t recommend this path. In truth, I do recommend it, but transformation is an ugly and uncomfortable business, and I’d like to be ever clear about that. In the Bible, Jonah was three days in the belly of the whale, and Christ was three days in the grave. Before the Phoenix rose anew from the ashes, it dis-integrated into ashes. Hoeller says before a caterpillar becomes a butterfly, it becomes “a black goo.” Ohotto says before you can become SOMEBODY, you must first become NOBODY. So the point has been made time and time again–death precedes life.

I don’t like this any more than you do.

[One last thing. In terms of tonight’s photo, which features me holding a sign that says, “Be awesome today,” I feel like I need to add–like, no pressure.]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing is set in stone here.

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Your Best Is Good Enough (Blog #852)

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This afternoon I saw my chiropractor, the one who works with the mental/emotional/energetic causes of physical problems. This continues to be a trip. Today was my third appointment, and the man’s gotten more done with me than a handful of other chiropractors have in six times the visits. For the longest time I’ve been constantly aware of tension in my neck. And whereas it’s still there, now there are days I don’t even think about it. This is progress. This is good progress. That being said, the guy’s methods are weird.

I say weird but I only mean they’re weird compared to most medical people’s methods. I’ve spent a lot of time in the alternative healing community, and I’ve seen some really strange shit. Compared to that stuff, my chiropractor’s methods are really quite benign. Today he used muscle testing to get at the underlying emotions behind my long-time struggle with sinus infections. The positive word that came up (the emotion I feel before a sinus infection) was RELIABLE. The negative emotion (during and after a sinus infection) was INADEQUATE. Phew. There’s a can of worms. The last two years, which have been full of medical tests (that have basically said I’m healthy as a horse), have been filled with my trying to decide whether or not me and my body are reliable or inadequate.

The jury’s still out.

In truth, inadequacy is a pervasive emotion for me. Recently I blogged about my feeling like not enough, and I suppose this is the same thing. There’s a scene in Mr. Holland’s Opus when a former student of Mr. Holland’s, now a grownup, is shutting down Mr. Holland’s music program due to budget cuts. He says, “We’re doing the best we can, Mr. Holland,” and Mr. Holland yells, “Your best is not good enough!” Both of these characters are firmly entrenched in my psyche, the part of me that says, “Dammit, I’m doing everything I know to do,” and the part that is always demanding more. You know, The Perfectionist. The Hard Ass.

The one who’s real fun at parties.

This afternoon I read Transforming Fate into Destiny: A New Dialogue with Your Soul by Robert Ohotto. It’s glorious. Read it and give it to all your friends for Christmas. But really. In a New Age/Self-Help culture that claims you can manifest or have whatever you want, this book is a breath of fresh air. Robert explains that, yes, we can create magnificent things in our lives. Each of us is more powerful than we give ourselves credit for. However, each of us also came into this life understanding that there would be certain limitations (or boundaries, I love a good boundary), so we have to work within those fated guidelines.

For example, no matter what I put on my vision board, I’m never going to be the first female President of the United States. (Crap.) Because I’m a man. Likewise, I’ll never be straight (sorry, ladies), be six-foot-two (dang), look or sing like Zac Efron (dang again), or have different parents. Because my sexuality, height, looks, and parents have already been decided. And so have yours.

So get over it.

Now, what I do with what’s already been decided, that’s a different story. As I understand it, if I do nothing but sit on the couch every day and eat bonbons, that’s my choice. However, in choosing to not be an active, conscious participant in my life, not only will I not mature, but I’ll also feel as if my life is out of my control. Jung said, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will run you life and you will call it fate.” Robert says, “If you don’t access direction from within, your life will be directed from without.” (Oh snap.) However, if I choose or anyone chooses to do The Hard Work and grow the eff up, well, now we’re cooking with gas. My therapist says her job is to support me in reaching my highest potential, and your highest potential is another way of talking about your destiny. What’s actually possible for YOU? Not that guy over there, but you. What, exactly, is inside you that’s eager, waiting, and willing to be born?

This, of course, is the million dollar question, and only the gods and your soul have the answer.

Also–fair warning–because all things worth having require sacrifice (of your time, talents, and ego), should you choose to pursue your highest potential, some days are really gonna suck.

I still recommend it.

Getting back to my chiropractor’s weird ways, I repeat, they’re only weird because they’re not conventional. It’s becoming more in vogue to discuss the mind-body-soul connection, but in my experience, it’s mostly lip service. I mean, when I get a headache, give me a Tylenol. And yet I know there’s more to it. This is what I’ve run into hundreds of times along The Path. This is what you’ll run into when reaching for your highest potential or working to transform your fate into destiny. You’ll know there’s more inside you that’s wanting to come out. But because your path is different from everyone else’s, it will feel weird, you’ll question it, and you’ll feel inadequate.

Keep going. You are not alone. Your best is good enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Beating yourself up is a far cry from self-respect."

Snap! The Job’s a Game (Blog #838)

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This morning I watched a (ten minute) video by intuitive Robert Ohotto in which he suggested something he calls the I Don’t Give a Shit (IDGAS) Detox. The basic concept is that for a week or two you stop giving a shit about whatever it is you give a shit about. If you want to take it a step further, you write down your reactions to not giving a shit. Like, That felt nice to not give a shit about what other people think about my hair, or Maybe I should have given a shit about that noise my car was making–because now it’s broken down on the side of the road. As I understand it, the IDGAS Detox is designed to alert you to how you spend your mental and emotional energy.

Which, incidentally, you only have so much of.

I’ve thought about this a lot today, about not giving a shit. And whereas I’ll spare you all the specific incidents to which I’ve applied the wisdom of IDGAS–or, truth be told, IDGAF–I will include a short list of things I think we could all care less about. Here we go–what’s happening on Facebook, what anyone else is doing (period), whether or not someone else calls or texts you back, what other people think about anything about you, how you compare to others, and (take this one however you like) whether or not you can still get into the same pants you could in high school.

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

As I’ve thought about these things today I’ve realized I spend a lot of time worrying or being concerned about things that really don’t matter. And not that any of this is unusual or directly harmful, but it does affect exactly how much joy I experience from moment to moment, and all that adds up. Robert suggests the IDGAS Detox if you’re feeling exhausted, and I think that’s his point. If you’re getting enough sleep every night and still find yourself tired, it may be because you’re wearing yourself out with all your mental gymnastics. The ones that sound like, Everyone else has it better than I do. They’re so much richer, smarter, and more talented than I am. Or vice versa.

Give it a rest, Nancy.

Give it an IDGAS rest.

This afternoon I saw a chiropractor, a friend of mine, who uses a lot of unconventional (weird) techniques. I’m all about this sort of thing, the mind-body connection. Hell, I’m all about whatever works. My neck and shoulder have been bothering me for over six months now, so at this point I’ll try anything. Well, get this shit. When I walked in the majority of my back was, in his terms, “locked up.” In my terms, it was tense and inflexible. Thirty minutes later, it was much, much better. It was like something had let go. The best part? My friend didn’t have to crack or twist anything or do anything dramatic. Rather–and this is the weird part–he communicated with my unconscious (through muscle testing) to find out WHY my body was so uptight.

Like, “What’s your deal, Lucille?”

One of the tenants of this approach is that for each physical problem, there will be a mental/emotional component. In other words, in most cases, our bodily aches and pains don’t come out of nowhere. And whereas for me it’s tempting to think my neck and shoulder pain have to do strictly with my car accident two years ago and the fact that I’ve been doing a lot of manual labor lately, that’s a bit like thinking an appleseed can flourish into a full-grown apple tree by simply sitting on your coffee table. Of course it can’t. It needs dirt, water, and sunshine. What I’m saying is that for a physical problem to manifest (turn from a seed to a tree) in your body, it needs a particular environment in which to do so. Simply put, your thoughts and emotions are a huge part of that environment.

The good news about this: if you change the environment, you change what’s able to grow there.

According to my friend (and my unconscious), the emotion that’s related to my neck and shoulder pain is jealousy. “It’s probably not a romantic jealousy,” my friend said. Now, maybe this sounds like a bunch of crap. If so, that’s okay. I’ve thought so in similar situations in the past. But today I couldn’t truthfully say, “WHO ME? Jealous?” So instead I said, “I know exactly what kind of jealousy it is–it’s professional. It’s the thought that other people are succeeding at what they want to do and I’m not.”

“So it’s not really about all that manual labor,” my friend said.

“Well, that plays in because I don’t deep-down want to be doing all that manual labor,” I said. “I want to make the money, but I’d rather make it doing something I love.”

This wanting/not wanting, of course, is a recipe for tension both internally and externally.

With my friend’s approach, for each negative emotion that comes up, there’s also a positive one to balance it out or help remedy the situation. In my case, that emotion was delight. As an exercise, you could think jealous thoughts for a minute and see how that feels, then think thoughts of delight and see how that feels. For me, delight feels one hundred times better. When I think of things that delight me, I feel less constriction and more expansion. Freer. This is what I’ve been trying to do since this afternoon. Outwardly the rest of my day was typical–I read a book, mowed my parents’ lawn, took a shower, and began writing. But rather than adopting an attitude of pressure or obligation, I adopted one of fun and enjoyment. One of delight.

As Mary Poppins says, “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun, and–snap!–the job’s a game.”

Getting back to the IDGAS Detox, I think it’s an excellent tool to use for transforming a negative emotion into a positive one. For example, whenever I’ve been tempted this afternoon and evening to be jealous of another person’s body, work, or body of work, I’ve thought, I don’t give a shit what anyone else is doing. Likewise, I’ve thought, I don’t give a shit if I read as much today as I did yesterday. I don’t give a shit if I mow the lawn perfectly. Consequently, I’ve experienced more joy. (There, that wasn’t so hard.) At the same time–and this is the real gem–I’ve freed up a good bit of mental/emotional energy that, rather than using on things I don’t like, I can now use on things I do. Because I DO give a shit about writing, I DO give a shit about dancing, and I DO give a shit about reaching my highest potential, and these things require A LOT of energy.

My final thought about all this is that when pirate ships are caught in a storm and are “going down,” the crew throws everything overboard that isn’t absolutely necessary–cargo, supplies, anyone who’s not pulling their weight. (Sorry, Petey.) Free of the extra baggage, the ship can now stay afloat. After the storm passes, it can even sail quicker than it did before. This is what discarding negative thoughts and emotions can do for you. This is what discarding negative relationships–with friends, technology, and even your own body–can do for you. It can lighten you up. It can get you to where you’re going faster.

It can turn a job into a game.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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So perhaps perfection has little to do with that which changes and everything to do with that which doesn't. For surely there is a still, small something inside each of us that never changes, something that is timeless and untouchable, something inherently valuable and lovable--something perfect.

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