Doing my small part to #flattenthecurve and slow the spread of COVID-19, I stayed home today, as I plan to do tomorrow and for the foreseeable future, with a few exceptions (therapy appointments, etc.). This morning I slept in then gradually got going with some do-it-yourself myofascial release exercises. Then I ate breakfast and spent the entire afternoon reading. First I finished a book about continuous bilateral stimulation (The Art of BART: Bilateral Affective Reprocessing of Thoughts as a Dynamic Model for Psychotherapy by Arthur G. O’Malley), the technique my EMDR therapist uses during my EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) treatments, although he uses a different protocol than the author of the book does. (There’s more than one way to skin a cat.) Then I read a book (God-Man: The Word Made Flesh by George W. Carey) about how, at least according to the author, the stories in the Bible are actually allegories meant to explain the inner workings of the human body and, among other things, its endocrine and nervous systems.
Then my eyeballs fell out of my head.
This evening I finally finished a 1,000-piece puzzle I’ve been now-and-then working on for months. I can’t tell you how good this feels. Especially since the last puzzle I finished was missing a piece. (We can’t all be perfect.) Anyway, I plan to bask in the glory of this finished project before jumping right into another. Hell, maybe I’ll even have this one framed, you know, once I feel comfortable letting someone else touch my things with their bare hands.
Along these lines, in a lecture I listened to while working on the puzzle, Caroline Myss says that although it’s the physical nature of viruses to spread organically, it’s the energetic nature of epidemic viruses to spread among those who are most tribally, rather than individually, oriented. “There’s a physical weakness, and there’s a vibrational weakness,” she says. “Both are true.” What I personally find interesting about this statement, and about COVID-19 in general, is that an epidemic forces us to become more individually oriented because it strongly encourages us to set boundaries (as in, don’t shake my hand, or, as Sting said, don’t stand so close to me) and take care of ourselves (hands off, that’s MY toilet paper).
Alas, this is often the case, that we have to either get scared, sick, cheated on, or walked all over before we stand up for ourselves. All too often, we need an excuse (or we think we do), something others will understand, in order for us to set a boundary. I used to have a student that liked to hug people without their permission. And whereas I didn’t always mind being hugged by this person, there were plenty of times I did mind and let them do it anyway. If the old me were here today, he would say, “I would, but, you know, Corona,” the whole time thinking, Thank God. I can finally be left alone. Thankfully, now I don’t need an excuse. If I really don’t want to touch someone or let them touch me, I don’t. It’s that simple. Explanations be damned.
Although sometimes I do say, “I’d rather not.”
And whereas for years I thought it would be terrible–the worst thing ever–to stand up for myself and set boundaries with people, it hasn’t been. Granted, at times it’s taken a lot of courage and therapeutic support, but the world has yet to stop spinning. Granted, people have gotten upset and even cried (what can I say, I’m a heartbreaker), but, for the most part, the boundaries I’ve set have been–accepted. Once I quit a job and thought the person was going to get ever so mad, but they said, “Okay.” Now, did it sort of suck to find out that I was that-fast replaceable? Sure. But it felt even better to walk away from shit-paying work and have all kinds of time back to myself.
As this daily writing project is getting close to “the end,” one thing I’d like to make clear is exactly what I’ve done to grow as a person, improve my relationships, and heal. Not that I consider myself or any these things “complete,” but I do consider that I’ve come a long way over the last several years. And sometimes when I look at people who have improved their lives, I get the feeling that they’re leaving something out. Or at least making a long, difficult journey sound easy. Like, you can do it too in 8 easy steps! Hell, in an afternoon. This is why I’ve said repeatedly that The Path takes time and patience. It takes commitment. YOU take commitment (and you’re are worth it, by golly). This is also why I’ve done my best to share the specific titles of books I read, the teachers I listen to, and the therapies I try (the ones I both fail and succeed with). Not because I think the formula I’ve used will work for everyone, but because I want everyone to understand that 1) you have to work things out for yourself and 2) sometimes you’ve gotta kiss a lot frogs before you find a prince.
And then again, sometimes you don’t.
This being said, I will always and forever promote 1) remaining curious and hopeful, 2) educating yourself, 3) setting boundaries and being your own best advocate, 4) having both a personal and professional support network, 4) learning to trust yourself and your intuition, 5) having a spiritual practice, and 6) working with body-based practices and therapies (as opposed to cognitive-only ones) in order to heal. Having tried a hundred things, lately I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of upper cervical care, myofascial release, and EMDR. (I could talk your ear off about any of these things if you’d let me.) I DID NOT get a lot of mileage out of iridology, although that post is consistently one of my most read. But I do believe there’s more than one way to skin a cat, and if another approach or combination of approaches works for you, fabulous. Truly, I’d love to hear about what you’ve tried and what’s worked and what hasn’t. (Drop me a line.) THIS is one of the benefits to breaking away from the tribe and individuating. Afterwards, you can COME BACK to the tribe and share what you’ve learned. Then we can all grow and be stronger, together.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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There’s a power that comes when you meet life’s challenges head-on. Those are the times you breathe the deepest. Those are the times the waters come forth and your heart beats every bit as loud as the thunder claps. Those are the times you know more than ever—no matter what happens next—in this moment, you’re alive.
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