The Missing Piece (Blog #759)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"We all have inner wisdom. We all have true north."

A More Mature Look (Blog #731, Birthday #2)

Leave a comment March 31, 2019 CoCo

Currently it’s two-thirty in the afternoon, and I’m at Starbucks blogging. A friend I haven’t seen in a while just walked over and said I was beginning to get that “older” look. That was how he started our conversation; that was his lead-in. So that felt good. To be fair, he said it looks good on me. What he meant by “it,” I’m not exactly sure. Wrinkles? (Are you saying I’m a good wrinkle wearer? Why thank you!) Recently my aunt’s dermatologist said she tries to avoid the term “age spots.” I guess people (old people) find it offensive. Instead she says “maturity spots.” Yes, I like that better. I don’t have an “older” look; I have a “mature” look.

Words matter.

Today is this blog’s second birthday. (Happy Birthday, Me and My Therapist!) Two years ago today, I wrote my first post. Since then, I’ve written every day. I really will start talking about something else soon, but wow. I just spent the last hour crunching some numbers and using a website to turn my blog into a PDF, and here are some facts. In year one, I wrote 375,441 words, an average of 1,028 words a day. In year two, I slowed down a little, writing 286,930 words, an average of 786 words a day. That’s an overall total of 662,371 words and an average of 907 words a day for the last two years. In PDF form, in 11 point font with no columns (text running all the way across the page), this translates to 1,050 pages for year one and 1,010 for year two, 2,060 pages altogether.

When the blog turned one last year, I went out with friends and deliberately did some things to celebrate. And whereas I went out with friends last night, it wasn’t for the specific purpose of celebrating the blog; it was just a coincidence. I don’t know. Maybe year two of blogging is similar to having your second child; it’s not celebrated in the same way the first one is. When something becomes routine, it’s easy to take it for granted. Still, I’m planning a few things this week in order to on-purpose pat myself on the back for how far I’ve come both in terms of this project and my personal growth. I’m trying to remind myself, No wait. This is a big deal. This is something you can be proud of.

Words matter. This is something I’ve learned during the last two years. The way you talk to yourself matters. Because that’s all I’ve been doing for the last over 600,000 words–talking to myself. That’s all I’m doing now, just sitting down and getting my thoughts out of my head and on paper. In a way, it’s like online journaling. Having a cyber man-diary, if you will. There is one difference, however. Whereas with a journal I might simply spill my thoughts out on to the page (barf!), with this project, in each entry, I make a point to talk myself into a better place. Internally I tell myself, Here is the ugly truth. Now how can we change our perspective about it?

Lately a theme on the blog has been practice, the idea that if you just keep showing up to something–a blog, a dance class, a relationship–you’re likely to make progress. Napoleon Hill said, “Failure cannot cope with persistence.” And whereas I’ve thought a lot about the fact that my persistently blogging is making me a better writer, I haven’t considered until today that my persistently talking myself into a better place is making me a better self-talker. That is, we all have an internal narrator who provides a dialogue about what’s going on in our lives. Maybe yours says, “You’re too fat” or “You’re inadequate.” I know mine does at times. But I’m happy to report that more and more my internal narrator says, “Sweetheart, you’re beautiful–period” and “You are more than enough.” Occasionally friends have mentioned it must be nice to have thoughts like these. Well, yes, it is. But these thoughts have been practiced. Through years of self-help material, work with my therapist, and especially this blog, these thoughts have been invited in and encouraged to stay.

You don’t need to change; your thoughts do.

Sometimes I think you have to give up. What I mean is that our society, to its detriment I think, is hyper-focused on youth, beauty, and success by the world’s standards. We’re told that getting old sucks, so avoid it at all costs, and that what matters is on the outside, not the inside. And whereas most of us when pressed would say, “That’s bullshit, utter bullshit,” it doesn’t stop us from spending our hard-earned money on creams and lasers that claim to reverse the signs of aging or buying spandex to do for our skin what it can no longer do for itself. I’m not saying you should let yourself go. But I am saying that at some point the whole charade becomes ridiculous. Morrie Schwartz, the subject of the book Tuesdays with Morrie, said, “The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say, if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.” Think about it, for decades–decades!–you tell yourself you’re too this, too that. You convince yourself that YOU need to change, rather than realizing that it’s your thoughts that do.

Words matter.

Going forward with this blog, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I’ve told a few people (and now I’m telling you) that my goal is to reach a thousand days in a row. God willing and the creek don’t rise, that should happen just before this calendar year comes to an end. And since that’s close to a year from now, it seems reasonable to me to blog every day for another 365 days. That will be three years total. Three years–that was good enough for Jesus’s ministry, so it might as well be good enough for mine. Regardless of when it happens, I know at some point I’ll stop blogging and focus on other projects. There’s a saying that once you reach the other side of the river, you set your raft aside. That is, the important thing about this blog is not that I have reached or will reach a certain number of posts or words, but rather that it’s been a vehicle for getting myself to another place internally–a better-feeling, kinder-self-talking place.

A more mature place.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

if you're content with yourself and you're always with yourself, then what's the problem?

On Bending (Blog #643)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And whereas it's just a single step, it's a really important one.

The Mystery Isn’t That Simple (Blog #580)

More on that in a minute.

Later we talked about self-talk, beliefs, and whether or not someone (specifically, me) feels worthy of having their dreams come true. And whereas we’ve had these conversations before and I feel like I’ve made a lot of progress in this area, today I started crying when she repeatedly looked me in the eyes and listed several good (and “worthy”) things about me. Yeah, why is that such a big deal, to have someone affirm you? I guess because I’m so used to thinking that success belongs to other people–but not me; that dreams come true for, I don’t know, the Kardashians–but not me; that everyone else is “good enough”–but I’m not.

My therapist called this “a flawed perspective,” and in my experience it’s not the easiest thing to get rid of, even when you really want to. Like, I’ve been reading self-help books and rocking this therapy thing for A WHILE NOW, and it’s not like I’m unaware of thoughts that race through my head. I say race because thoughts are lightning fast, especially little ones like, That won’t work, No one will like that, or, Nothing I do is every good enough. And I guess it’s easy to think that quick little thoughts don’t matter, but think them often enough, and thoughts like these can slowly choke a dream.

To death.

I normally don’t cry in therapy, so I’d like to be clear about why I think it’s notable. So often we “think” we’ve handled an issue. Like, Oh yeah, I’m fine with abundance. I believe in that shit. Well, you can blow a lot of smoke up someone else’s and even your own ass, but you CAN’T fool your body. On the contrary, your body always knows the truth. So when I find myself crying, that’s a good thing, since it means I’ve finally hit something with substance and not just an idea. It means, Sweetheart, it’s time to really take a look at this.

My therapist said she thinks I play small or fail to take steps toward some of my dreams because I’m afraid of rejection. (Uh, who isn’t?!) But after sharing a personal story that involved her being rejected multiple times and ended with her opening her private practice, she shared two pieces of advice.

One–Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy. In other words, with time and perspective, we are often grateful for things that didn’t work out.

Two–Because our greatest strengths lie on the other side of our greatest fears–and I quote–“Bring on the rejection, motherfuckers!”

I’m going to be processing all this, but in the meantime, I’d like to circle back to listening to your gut, which, as I’m fond of saying, sounds good if you say it fast. What I mean is that “going with your gut” is often lauded in today’s society, and yes, I think it’s something you should do. Like, I might have been taken advantage of–or just been frustrated– if I’d bowed to convenience and had stuck around in those computer shops today even though something felt off. And when my therapist asked if I wanted an extra hour and that felt “on,” that clearly worked out.

Woowho. Go gut.

But to be clear, I ran all over God’s green earth today trying to find a place my gut liked, and that was a pain in the ass. And because I stayed in therapy an extra hour, I ended up crying, and I’ve spent the rest of the day queasy because, What am I gonna do now? And because I’ve listened to my gut countless other times in the last four years, I can’t tell you the number of people I used to be friends with that I no longer talk to. Granted, I think I’ve saved everyone involved a lot of drama, but watching multiple friendships fall apart is a real bitch and–quite frankly–isolating.

In my experience, your gut doesn’t care if you run all over God’s green earth, doesn’t care if you cry, doesn’t care if you lose your friends, and doesn’t care if you’re lonely. It does, however, I believe, WANT you to be as healthy and as strong as possible, and–well–maybe that requires some challenges. (I’m sorry. There’s no maybe about it. It does require some challenges.) Also, I think it requires some tests, meaning you have to listen to your inner guidance in the little things if you expect to get guidance in the big things. Like, this week I’ve been working on organizing my photos, just because I feel like I’m supposed to. (I keep thinking about it; the idea won’t let me go.) Well, if I ignore that prompting and later wonder what I should do about a relationship or a job, why should my gut bother talking to me when I’ve plainly demonstrated that I’m not interested in what it has to say?

Today I walked out of a computer repair business, twice, just because something inside me said, Leave. And I don’t know why–your gut never answers this question–maybe it’s because my answer about that relationship or job is IN ANOTHER STORE. Regardless, what I do know is that some of the biggest shit storms I’ve been through in my life have been because I ignored a still small voice inside me (a simple “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” is often all your gut will give you), so I don’t need to know why.

But–obviously–because I said so, that’s why. It is MY gut, after all. I just don’t–hum–have to understand my own reasons.

This is the weirdest thing about the universe, ourselves, and healing. For one thing, nothing is a straight line; you can’t say what causes what…or why. For example, if I hadn’t spilled my tea on my laptop and gotten up early to go to the shop this morning, I wouldn’t have had time for the double session in which I had an emotional breakthrough. Does one thing explain the other? Not necessarily–The Mystery isn’t that simple–but I think it’s all connected.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

There's a wisdom underneath everything that moves us and even the planets at its own infallible pace. We forget that we too are like the planets, part of a larger universe that is always proceeding one step at time, never in the wrong place, everything always right where it belongs.

On Boundaries and Self-Care (Blog #152)

1 Comment August 29, 2017 CoCo

Today I went to therapy, and the lights were turned down low–I guess because the sun was coming in the windows or whatever. Honestly, it felt like womb, maybe a good place to take a nap. But I guess somebody could have taken it as scary or even romantic, since my therapist said, “Does it creep you out that the lights are off?”

“Please. I don’t give a shit.” (This is how we talk to each other.)

Today we talked about boundaries (we always talk about boundaries), and we both agreed that whereas necessary, setting them can be tiring. In my case, I went so long without having any (I thought I had them, but I didn’t), that figuring out what I’ll accept and what I won’t accept has felt like a full-time job the last few years. Naturally, a number of friendships and relationships have shifted since I got some standards. Maybe that’s really the tiring part, watching people you care about walk away when the rules change. Granted, it’s empowering to say, “No, I won’t lower my price,” “No, it’s not okay to manipulate me,” or, “No, you can’t touch my ass,” but as Caroline Myss points out, few people are willing to celebrate your personal empowerment. I mean, when was the last time someone looked at you and said, “Yay–you don’t need me”?

Of course, I think a good therapist is anything but codependent and will celebrate your victories. Mine says her goal is to work herself out of a job. Personally, I guess I like that idea, although I don’t see it materializing as long as I’m living with my parents and spending part of every afternoon watching Days of Our Lives.

About mid-session, I told my therapist that this last week has been pretty emotional, probably because I’ve been go-go-going, Mom’s cancer has taken an emotional toll, and my life has been in such a state of flux for a while now. (She said flux was “good,” but I’m still chewing on that idea.) Then I said that rather than taking my stress as an opportunity to slow down and practice self-care (take a nap, ask for a hug), I tell myself I should be doing better or should be “further along.” In short, I self-flagellate.

“Yeah, you’re REAL good at that,” she said.

“Why, thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

Before tonight, I’d planned to go out-of-town tomorrow to hear an author speak. I’d planned to go, spend the night, and take my time coming back on Thursday. Then I realized that wouldn’t work because I have an appointment Thursday morning. Oh well, I thought, I can still go and come back in one night, stay up to write the blog, and still make the appointment. (If you’re wondering who lit the other end of this candle, it was obviously me.) Well, today I decided I could practice self-care by NOT going, by basically setting a boundary for–myself.

Stop, Marcus. Just stop.

Personally, I don’t consider this a big revelation. It’s not the first time I’ve put myself on a diet, stopped smoking, or decided to stay home to rest. But I do think it’s interesting that I’m able to mostly navigate boundaries with others and my physical world, but sometimes less so with my internal. Maybe our thoughts and emotions are tougher to work with, but I’m thinking it’s time to set some limits for myself, since the truth is that I wouldn’t let anyone else tell me I’m not good enough, or listen to them go on and on (and on) about how it’s not okay to feel overwhelmed for more than fifteen minutes at a time or how no one will love me unless I stop eating white bread for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

And sometimes for a snack.

When I put my self-talk on paper, it sounds pretty ridiculous. But I guess our thoughts are sort of like broken records that just keep playing over and over (and over) again until you finally say, “Wait a damn minute, I don’t like this music,” and put on something different. Of course, I don’t expect things to change overnight, and it’s not like I haven’t been working on this for a while–I have. It’s better up there than it used to be. But my therapist says boundaries are always being reevaluated as new information comes along, so it’s probably just time for a personal check-in. Ultimately, I believe good boundaries come from a strong sense of self-worth, so if I wouldn’t let anyone else treat or talk to me poorly, why would I let myself get away with the same bad behavior?

Why would anyone?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

You can be weird here. You can be yourself.