As on Purpose as Possible (Blog #974)

Currently it’s just after midnight. Two hours ago I sat down to blog but got distracted by YouTube videos. Then, when I saw one of my friends post that they’d done some digital house cleaning, I decided to do the same. I did this several years ago, culling my Facebook friends list from 2,400 to 1,800. And whereas I didn’t have it in me to go through my entire list tonight, I did go through part of it and trimmed down–I don’t know–50 friends. Not that I have anything against these people. But if we haven’t communicated or even liked each others’ posts in ten years, well, that says something.

Hey, we can always try again.

One of the reasons I dove into this project tonight is that more and more I’m concerned with the management of my personal (mental, emotional, and spiritual) energy. Think of it this way. You can be selective about what you watch on television, but you can’t be selective about what the stations tell you when you have them on. Likewise, every person or page you follow on social media gets to broadcast into your psyche. They get immediate access. Look at my kid, look at my cat, the flu’s going around, that politician’s a jerk! Of course, in real life we’d never let 2,000 of our acquaintances march into our living room and say whatever they wanted for 5 minutes or even 15 seconds. Nor would we take the time to peer into our neighbors’ windows Gladys Kravitz style if it required leaving our couches, creeping across the street, and hiding behind their bushes–even if they invited us to. Why? Because it would take too much energy.

But, Marcus, it’s different online.

That’s exactly my point. It may SEEM different online, but it’s not. What’s draining is draining. Again, if you wouldn’t let someone vomit their political or personal rant on your dining room table, why would you let them do it on your newsfeed? Trust me, your mind, emotions, and spirit don’t discriminate. If you don’t believe me, think of the last time you got upset–lost a single minute of peace–because of what someone said online or how they reacted or didn’t react to something you posted. I don’t even have to ask if this has ever happened to you. I know it has. Because our virtual lives are becoming just as real, if not more real, than our actual ones. Which is all the more reason to be–what’s the word?–discriminating about how we live them.

Getting back to my physical life, this morning I had breakfast with my dear friend Kara. Kara and I went to high school together and have purposed to stay in touch with each other ever since. Consequently, our breakfast was delightful. Needless to say, if Kara were ON Facebook, I’d keep her around. Anyway, get this. While Kara and I were eating I noticed my friend Gwen at the table next to us. Gwen’s a fellow writer whom I met years ago through a magazine I used to work for, and we’ve purposed to stay in touch online (message occasionally, read and interact with one another’s posts). So when Gwen got up to leave and I said hello, it was the perfect thing (like, yippee!), exactly what social media is lovely for (true connection).

Conversely, and getting back to MY RANT about social media, I’ve seen Facebook friends in public before and not only not said hello, but avoided them. Or they’ve avoided me. Either way, we didn’t speak. Tonight as I was wondering whom to keep and whom to let go, I thought, If I wouldn’t talk to this person in a restaurant, I don’t need their stuff on my feed and they don’t need my stuff on theirs. In some cases I thought, But maybe (after ten years) we WILL interact, and then I definitely hit the unfriend button. Because that’s desperate, and that’s scarcity.

That being said, as my therapist says, life is long. You never know what’s going to happen. Sometimes people circle back around.

More and more, I’m learning to trust that whenever someone shows up in our experience (like at a restaurant), it’s time–and that whenever someone slides (or storms) out of our experience, it’s time. Once I had someone tell me that life was a series of attractions and repulsions. Like, go here, don’t go there. Friend them, don’t friend them. This isn’t about making anyone else right or wrong, of course. Nor is it about being right or wrong or better than or less than. It’s simply about doing what’s best for you, about keeping both your physical and virtual space as clean, nourishing, and on purpose as possible.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Authenticity is worth all the hard work. Being real is its own reward."

Taking My Mind Back (Blog #221)

Today I’ve been all over the emotional map–North, South, East, and West–in anything but a straight line. I saw my therapist this afternoon, and that’s almost always a shot in the arm. I mean, she’s hilarious and insightful. As per usual, we tackled “the list” of all the thoughts, problems, and curiosities I couldn’t stop thinking about this last week. Probably half our time was spent on dreams I’ve had lately, which included a hot sex dream and a dream about Hillary Clinton. (To be absolutely perfectly clear, those were two distinct, separate dreams.) I’ll spare you the lengthy analysis, but when it was over, my therapist said, “You really have the best dreams.” Well, not once in my life have I ever thought my subconscious would get such a glowing review, but now that it has, I sort of want to put it on my resume. Marcus Coker–can get shit done even in his sleep.

Feel free to roll your eyes.

In case it needs to be restated–my therapist detests social media. If you’ve looked at what people are posting lately, I’m sure you can figure out way. Anyway, today she had a whole slew of new anti-social-media stickers on her laptop, the biggest of which said, “Social Media Personality Disorder.” I said, “Oh, like, I’m neurotic because someone didn’t like my post or said something negative?”

She said, “Exactly.”

Beneath that sticker was one that said, “Take your mind back.” Tying the two sentiments together, my therapist said, “Don’t hand your mind over to other people. You know who you are.” To me this means that I can’t let a news feed filled with cats and political arguments tell me how to feel every day. What’s more, if I spend the day scrolling, comparing myself to others and looking for outside validation, I’m only going to end up feeling worse about myself. So ultimately, unless I want to be neurotic, I have to be responsible for my thoughts and feelings. This, of course, is the very essence of authenticity.

A couple months ago I started a small remodel project–replacing a door threshold–for my friend Ray. Well, it’s dragged on and on because the threshold had to be special ordered, and I guess the shipping department kept sending the product to a different store location. Not knowing this, the store I was working with kept ordering new ones–a total of three of them, in fact. Anyway, shit happens. I finally picked up the threshold today, was immediately deflated because I realized I didn’t have the proper tools to remove the excess length, then got excited when I went to Ray’s because I discovered it was exactly the right size.

Sometimes life throws you a bone.

I guess technically–in this case–I threw myself a bone, since I’m the one who would have specified the length of the threshold when I ordered it. That being said, I’m willing to share the credit with life. Very magnanimous of me, I know.

The project itself went really well, albeit slower than I desired. Since some of the wood in the door frame was rotten, I needed to replace it, and this meant using a saw. Well, the only saw blade I had was dull, and for a while I dicked around hoping I could make it work. Dull blades are useless, of course, so then I tried chiseling the wood and even sanding it in order to make it the right size. This felt like trying to teach a cat how to bark. Well, I finally gave up, gave in, made the long haul back to the hardware store, and bought new blades. Y’all, things went MUCH faster after that. Who’d have thought? Now–after all this time–the project is finished.

Phew.

Feeling rather accomplished, I celebrated by playing with Ray’s new kitten, Leo. I’m really not a cat person, but I love black cats, and Leo was SO CUTE. Not only did he let me hold him in my arms like a baby, he also wore a black-and-white bow tie for the occasion. Talk about a class act. But seriously–a kitten in a bow tie! Could anything be more adorable?

The low point for the evening was checking the mail when I got home. Remember when I went to the emergency room a few weeks ago for a skin infection? Well, I got the bill today, and apparently my insurance didn’t pay for anything–not a cent was spent. Talk about a huge bummer, letdown, and disappointment. I tried to stop myself, but I immediately commenced freaking out. I can’t afford this. I should’ve gone to a regular doctor. Shit–I want chocolate chip cookies–This is a terrible day to be on a diet. Y’all, if it’s not obvious, it’s really difficult for me to stay calm in these situations. I went through a similar ordeal after I had sinus surgery this year (which turned out fabulously, despite my worrying), and every time the feeling is the same–I just want the whole thing over with.

This is probably something I should bring up in therapy, the way I flip shit whenever I see a piece of paper that says, “Balance due.” It probably has something to do with the fact that I was handed the family checkbook–which didn’t have much money in it, by the way–at the age of fifteen when Dad went to prison. Now that I think about it, I’m sure it has everything to do with that.

Anyway, it took me a while to talk myself down off the ledge. For a while I tried to ignore the issue by reading a book about writing I found at a used bookstore this afternoon. Then I decided I had to move, so I went for a run, even though it was drizzling and cold outside. Considering the fact that I’m just getting over three weeks of being sick, this may not have been the smartest move. Still, I had to do something to burn off my nervous energy, which I guess I had a lot of because I ended up running six miles. Along the way I remembered that 1) what’s done is done, 2) my life could be much, much, worse, and 3) it’s possible this could turn out better than I’m thinking it will. Around mile five, I actually laughed when I thought of one of my favorite comedy sketches.

Last month when I was in Colorado at a spiritual retreat, the teacher said, “Joy is not in the object.” This statement came out of the observation that most of us behave as if joy is in the object. Like, we want a new car, a new house, or a new boyfriend because we think having those things will make us happy. But if happiness resided in those particular things, they’d make everyone happy or they’d make us happy all of the time. Well, when I laughed while running tonight, I realized that just as joy is not in the object, neither is anxiety, nervousness, or stress. In other words, if a hospital bill were truly the source of my worry, I wouldn’t be able to laugh until it were taken care of. The fact that my mood can change, however, shows me that my reaction has very little to do with a sheet of paper and everything to do with me.

Some things simply take time and often more than one trip to the hardware store.

Personally, I think this is really good news, since I have a better shot at controlling myself than I do controlling the outside world. But the point is that the outside world really can’t control your internal one unless you let it–nothing outside of you can tell you what to think or feel. Granted, part of me is still freaking out about the medical bill, but the adult that’s sitting in this chair knows that I’ll call the hospital tomorrow and start a conversation about what can be done. Like the threshold project, I’ll want everything to be wrapped up as soon as possible, but I’ll remind myself that some things simply take time and often more than one trip to the hardware store. In this way, I hope to take my mind back from all the many people, places, and things to which I’ve let it wander, gently coaxing it back home to rest where it belongs.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A friend’s laughter takes us backward and carries us forward simultaneously.

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