It’s about Momentum (Blog #862)

After spending most of this last week fighting a stomach bug (or maybe food poisoning), I woke up today significantly better. Granted, I’m not ready for Thai food and pizza, but I am feeling more–what’s the word?–stable. Maybe seventy-five percent. Although my hips hurt like an old lady’s. Who knows why. Maybe that’s part of the sickness. Maybe I got dehydrated or spent too much time in bed. Either way, I could use some Bengay.

Honey, I’ve been gay my whole life.

But I digress.

In order to “celebrate” my body’s recovery, I spent today cleaning house. My parents are having company next week, so getting the house clean before their friends arrive is a family goal. (Go team.) Anyway, this afternoon I dusted most of the house, cleaned my bathroom, then tackled a few odd jobs I’ve been putting off for a while–storing a lambrekin under a bed (which required taking the bed apart), reattaching a toilet paper holder to a wall, super-gluing a wooden knickknack together, fixing the legs on my mom’s recliner, and removing a grease stain from the interior of my car, Tom Collins. My dad said, “What’s come over you?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “Sometimes I just get in a mood.”

Later when Dad and I were moving the living room couch so we (I) could vacuum under it, he said, “Don’t worry. We [you] won’t have to do any of this again for six or eight months.”

“Thank god,” I replied.

In terms of being in the mood to clean and tackle projects–really–I think it mostly comes down to just getting started. Like, I’d already set the day aside to work on the house, so as I was cleaning and remembered odd jobs I’d procrastinated, I thought, What’s one more thing? I’m already in the middle of it (cleaning and fixing shit).

Now my question is, “What are YOU in the middle of?” Because chances are, that’s what you’re going to keep doing, since that’s where your momentum is (and it’s about momentum). For instance, while cleaning this afternoon I got caught up in an episode of Dr. Phil in which a woman who’d had an affair created this HUGE ordeal (like, she went on the Dr. Phil show and claimed her phone had been hacked by Russians) in order to cover her tracks and convince her husband otherwise. Of course, this ordeal started off as one lie, then it grew from there. By the time she was IN THE MIDDLE OF IT, she and her husband had not only spent thousands of dollars on new electronics and a private investigator (who said the lady herself was the hacker), but she’d also tried to deceive half of America. And Dr. Phil!

Bitch, please.

People say, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” And whereas the emphasis of that statement is usually on the word tangled or deceive, I think it could just as easily be put on the word first. That is, where do you START? With lying or with honesty? Because that’s probably what you’ll end up in the middle of and–later– finish with. One thing leads to another. Again, it’s about momentum.

To be clear, although the example I used was about lying, the principle of momentum is neutral. For example, I’ve gotten a lot of positive benefits from both therapy and this blog, and–really–that success is largely due to the fact that I simply started something and have continued to show up to it. Often when evaluating my friendships or considering possible suitors (it does it happen occasionally), I sometimes want to ignore red flags and enjoy the fantasy for a while. But then I think, What’s one more confrontation? What’s one more boundary? I’m already in the middle of it (mental health, taking care of myself). Sometimes I want to cling to a particular object, but then I think, I can let go of this. I’m already in the middle of it (living as a minimalist, not being so attached to physical things).

We’re powerful beyond our comprehension.

This is one of the reasons, I think, why Caroline Myss says there’s no such thing as a small choice. Because one thing leads to another. I chose to clean the house today, and everything looks different now, better. I chose to go to therapy five years ago, and–oh my gosh–my entire world has been turned upside down in the best way. Caroline tells the story of a man who was on his was to commit suicide and changed his mind because a total stranger, who happened to be driving by, smiled at him. Wow. We think we can’t make a difference, that we’re not powerful. But the truth is we’re powerful beyond our comprehension. There are few things we can’t do if we simply decide to. There are few things we can’t do if we simply begin.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

None of us is ever really lost. At least we're never really alone. For always there is someone to help point your ship in the right direction, someone who sees you when you can't see yourself.

"

Any Stuck Door Is Worth Fixing (Blog #153)

This afternoon I helped my friend Ron with a problem he was having at his massage studio, which is located in an old home. Because the house has settled, both his doors were sticking and difficult to open. The lesson here, I think, is obvious–don’t settle–it only causes problems. But anyway. Two years ago, I would have had zero clue about stuck doors and how to fix them. But while I was living in an old home with multiple stuck doors, my friend Bruce (who’s as handy as a pocket on a shirt) taught me what to do.

Cry.

Just kidding. The first thing Ron and I did was close the doors and look at the edges. Ideally, there should be a gap between the door and the frame, but when a door is stuck, you’ll see wood on wood. (That sounded gay.) So we marked the problem areas, took the doors off the hinges, marched them outside, and went to work with an electric belt sander. Talk about making a mess–old doors are solid wood, and sawdust went everywhere, including in my pants and up my nose. It was great. I felt so butch–like a lesbian.

Fortunately, one door only took one trip outside and back in, and the other only took two. I’ve made up to six trips for one door before, so this was a huge success. Then we did some work to adjust the doorknob mechanisms because those weren’t latching just right. Then we went to the Mexican ice cream shop, which is my favorite part about fixing old doors. (The end.)

Tonight I watched a movie called Prayers for Bobby, which my mom recommended and is based on a true story about a high school student, Bobby, who comes out to his family and his overbearing mother, who tries to “pray the gay away.” In a pivotal scene, Bobby tells his mom that he’s not changing, to which she says, “I won’t have a gay son.” Shortly thereafter, Bobby commits suicide by jumping off a bridge. It takes some time, but his mom comes around, changes her mind about “the sin of homosexuality,” and becomes an outspoken advocate for gays and lesbians.

Honestly, I spent a good part of the movie in tears. Although my parents never gave me a difficult time about being gay, I heard all those Bible verses plenty of times growing up–in church, at school, on the world wide web. I have a friend who used to live in Seattle, and she says that when someone came out, they’d throw them a party. Imagine that, a celebration. My experience wasn’t anything close to Bobby’s, but there wasn’t a piñata either. I see that character in the movie, I look back at my life in high school, and I wish I could tell those people, It’s going to be all right.

Before I started remodel work, I never paid much attention to doors. They either worked or they didn’t. If one got stuck, well shit. But when I lived in that old home, I started looking at doors differently. There was one in my bedroom that stuck just slightly at the top. It was my closet door, so it was an everyday deal. Every time I opened it, I had to push down on the doorknob first and then pull. It was like a ritual. I never got around to fixing it before I moved, but it would have just been a matter of taking an eighth of an inch off the top. The way I see it now, it was a little thing causing a big problem.

When I watch a movie like Prayers for Bobby, my mind immediately goes to a process called The Work by Byron Katie. I’ve spent a lot of time reading her books and watching her videos, so–frankly–my mind goes there a lot. Regardless, The Work is a process of inquiry to deal with stressful thoughts, things like, He should call me back, My hips are too fat, or I need more money. In terms of having a gay son, The Work teaches it’s only a problem if you think, My son should be straight, or, My son’s going to hell, both of which are stressful thoughts because they argue with the truth–reality (my son is gay and he’s currently sitting in the living room). Katie says thoughts like these only do damage if we believe them, since our beliefs have the power to separate us from our children, even drive us to suicide.

The Work consists, in part, of four questions, but the one on my mind tonight is, “Who would you be without your story?” Another way of asking this would be, “Who would I be without that thought (that my son–or I–shouldn’t be gay)?” In my experience, whenever I think, I shouldn’t be gay (and I am), or, My mom shouldn’t have cancer (and she does), I immediately shut down in some way and become less open to–well–life as it is. So who would I be without my story? What would my life be like if I could never think or believe those thoughts again?

In one word–better.

I hate to admit this, but my problems are never caused by something “out there.” A few days ago my hairdresser and friend told me that my hairline was “receding.” She actually used that word. Well, that’s a fact. That’s–apparently–reality, but it’s only a problem if I make up a story about it. I’ll be ugly if I go bald. No one will love me. I can’t afford implants. When I type those thoughts out, they seem rather silly. But just like a door that gets stuck, I know that something small–like a belief–can cause big problems. Honestly, it’s not an easy thing to question your beliefs. Personally, I’ve been believing my own press releases for a long time, and I don’t like admitting I’m wrong anymore than the next guy. But I’m reminded tonight that any story that causes stress is worth questioning, just as any stuck door is worth fixing, especially when there’s someone you love (and that includes yourself) on the other side.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

You can’t play small forever.

"