On Whispering (Blog #1063)

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This morning I saw my myofascial release wizard and cried while she was working on getting my chest and shoulders to open up. “Raise your arms out from your side like you’re making a snow angel,” she said, “but stop when it hurts. Then go back and slowly stretch out like a telescope.” Y’all, I’m so used to push, push, pushing, forcing a stretch, but when I gradually telescoped my left arm, that’s when the release happened. My body shook and let go, and I cried and remembered a specific incident over ten years ago when I felt abandoned.

Ten years. Ten frickin’ years that emotion’s been hanging out, just waiting to be heard. And whereas my dad later pointed out that–thanks to all the different therapies I’ve been doing recently–I’ve been crying a lot lately, I think it’s fabulous. For one thing, getting an emotion out, or rather letting it move through you, is cathartic and healing and allows the past to finally be over. For another, sadness and grief and fear aren’t the only emotional responses that have been rising to the surface lately. So have anger, frustration, confusion, disgust, and joy. At times I’ve just laughed and laughed. Alas, at one point or another we’ve all stifled every reaction under the sun. And although we may have long forgotten them, our bodies haven’t.

This sucks, I know, especially when your stifled emotions show up in your shoulder.

Now, I’m not saying that any and every pain or problem you have is strictly emotional. What I am saying is that unacknowledged emotions are often part the pain equation. And whereas I know plenty of people just can’t “go there,” it makes sense to me. This morning thanks to the texts of a couple people, I realized I didn’t post a link to last night’s blog on Facebook. Rather, I posted a link to a website about EMDR, something I’ve briefly mentioned before and plan to discuss more in depth soon. Regardless, this morning I was terrified when I found out. I thought, I’ve made a mistake. My heart sped up. My breathing became shallow. I quickly calmed down, but my point is that we all experience the effect of our thoughts and emotions on our bodies on a daily basis. We get nervous and feel like we’re going to shit ourselves. We get angry and tense our shoulders, get a headache. So sure, I grant that releasing a decade-old emotion during a (for lack of a better term) massage is strange, but clearly you can’t separate your mind, emotions, and your body.

Sorry, but you this is the way you were made.

My myfascial release wizard says our bodies hold on to tension and emotions in order to keep us safe. They think, The last time I relaxed and honestly expressed myself, it didn’t go well. (I was in an accident, got hit, hurt or rejected, was made fun of, etc.) This is how our bodies become stuck in the past. Frozen in time. Thankfully, they can come back to the present. They can thaw out. However, this seems to require gentle coaxing. Gentle because–apparently–when a stretch or movement (or even an attitude) is forced upon the body–it fights back. Like, nope, not going there. But when it’s lightly encouraged, whispered to, not shouted at, the body gets the idea that it’s safe to let go, that things are different now than they were before.

That all the horrible things are over and that we can be free again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t stuff down the truth—it always comes up.

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On Settling into Your Body (Blog #1053)

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Today I’ve been thinking about, and trying to, relax. I’ll explain. Last night I listened to a podcast that said if you audibly sigh (like, AHHHH) when you exhale enough times (five to ten seems to work for me), it will cause you to yawn and, consequently, trigger your parasympathetic nervous system. Your parasympathetic nervous system being the “rest and digest” part of your nervous system, the part responsible for relaxation and healing. Your autonomic nervous system, of course, being the “fight or flight” part of your nervous system, the part responsible for hauling ass or, if necessary, kicking ass and taking names.

Naturally, we need both parts of our nervous system. The problem being, however, that the majority of us spend way too much time in “fight or flight” mode, either because we live in a high-stress environment (like America) or because we’ve suffered a trauma and our bodies haven’t completely processed (or realized its over) yet. Or both.

More and more I realize just how much stress I carry on a daily basis in my physical body. My shoulders have been tense for decades. My hips are tight. Often I can’t bend over and touch my toes without first taking a muscle relaxer and saying three Hail Marys. You get the point. Alas, somewhere along the way I convinced myself these little aches and pains were normal, a natural consequence of growing older. But having experienced some wonderful improvements in terms of headaches over the last few months thanks to upper cervical care, I’m starting to believe, like deep down and really, that freedom from chronic pain is possible. And whereas I wish I could just push a button and–voila!–be at ease in my skin, I’m learning that this type of freedom 1) comes incrementally, not instantaneously and 2) often requires practice.

Getting back to the idea of relaxation, recently I ran across a blog that reminded me of a form of standing meditation I learned through Chi Kung. Since the blog explains it better and more in depth than I could (or even have a desire to), suffice it to say that teachers of the stance claim that it can help improve posture, increase relaxation, decrease pain, and stimulate chi (energy) flow and, therefore, promote healing. You know, in as little as ten minutes a day. And whereas I can’t personally speak to all these claims, I can say that the stance has helped me relax this last week. Like, you don’t realize how much tension you carry in your body until you begin to let it go. Even a little.

Along the lines of letting go, I’ve done the audible sigh/exhale and yawn thing several times today, either when I felt like it or when I noticed tension in my neck or shoulders. I guess part of the idea behind this practice is to “retrain” your nervous system. This makes sense to me, since my normal reaction to pain (my habit) is to brace against it rather than relax in to it. Consequently, my body has learned to be uptight and on edge constantly. Which is no fun. But after just one day of consciously letting go ever so slightly, I already feel more at ease, like there’s more space here. Plus, what’s great about this exercise is that it can be done at your kitchen table, in your car, hell, in line at Walmart. This afternoon I tried it while bending over and trying to touch my toes, and, y’all, I went from not being able to touch the ground and feeling pain and tension to being able to touch the ground and feeling loose and (mostly) flexible in only six exhales.

This experience, in addition to a number of others, convinces me that–generally speaking–our bodies absolutely CAN relax and be flexible. However, more often than not, they haven’t learned to. Better said, our nervous systems haven’t been convinced it’s SAFE to. That’s what I keep reading over and over again, that our bodies create pain and stiffness because they perceive that we’re in danger, that there’s some sort of threat. And no, it doesn’t matter that you know you’re safe, sitting here right here, right now. If your body doesn’t know it (if it hasn’t fully processed your past dramas and traumas), it continues to be “on guard.”

More and more I’m grateful to my body for always trying to keep me safe. Sure, it’s frustrating when something hurts, but I’m coming to truly believe that if the brain, body, and nervous system can create pain, they can uncreate it. This is when healing really gets fun, when you begin to see what a wonder you truly are, what you’re really capable of. All of a sudden or over a period of time (and what’s the difference, really?), tensions relax, pain that showed up out of nowhere goes back to where it came from, and you let go of the notion that things will never get better. Settling into your body, your home, you breathe deeper than you have in years. Finally, you feel safe.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes we move with grace and sometimes we move with struggle. But at some point, standing still is no longer good enough.

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We Could Use a Little Help Here (Blog #828)

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Well gross. I’m out-of-town for the wedding of some dance students and woke up sick morning. Sinus crap. I’ve been fighting it all week. I thought I was on top of it, but it appears to be on top of me. I hate that. Anyway, it’s 11:30 in the morning, and despite the fact that I haven’t left the place where I’m staying or done anything today, I’m blogging now because–come hell or high water–I’m attending that wedding this evening and don’t want to force my body to stay up late in order to blog. This is what I’ve realized, that even though I can’t immediately solve my sinus infection problem, I can do little things to support my body and decrease how much we suffer from it.

Down with suffering.

I said I haven’t done anything today, but that’s not exactly true. That’s never exactly true. Even if you lie in bed and snore all day, that’s SOMETHING. Well, after I got up an hour and a half ago, I ate breakfast (a protein bar and fruit), then read about thirty pages in a book I recently started about headaches. Today I learned that tension headaches (which I have) can be triggered by stress, anxiety (defined as fear without an object), and depression, as well as certain foods (often nitrate-containing) or liquids (alcohol, caffeine, or the withdrawal of caffeine).

The book said that for those of us who experience tension headaches it’s important to remove triggers. Granted, if your job is stressful, you may not be able to remove your job (or punch your boss in the face), but you can work at how you respond to your job or boss. For example, you could go for a walk or try meditation. Serenity now! For Type A personalities, the book suggested scheduling in time to relax. Like, make yourself shut off your phone, lie down, and stare at the ceiling fan. Or listen to the birds chirping. Or pet your dog or cat.

Another suggestion was to tense your major muscle groups (biceps, calves, quads, butt, back, shoulders, and neck) one-by-one and then relax them. The idea being that–if you do this enough–they get the message that if and when they get tense, the next thing they should do is relax. This theory made sense to me, so I tried it. (I let go a little. It was nice.) Once I heard someone say that just like you speak English (or whatever), your muscles speak a language too, a language they’ve been taught. So if your body is constantly tensed and stressed and you want it to behave or feel differently, you have to teach it how. You have to teach it a new language. You have to take time to say, Sweetheart, there’s nothing to worry about. You can let your guard down now.

I’m working on all of this, although it’s often overwhelming to think about and do when I’m sick. That is, when I feel like crap from a sinus infection AND have a headache (or even just tight muscles), I want to throw in the towel. More than that, I want to yell and scream at my body, Get yourself together. I get so impatient with myself. And yet when I don’t feel well, this is exactly the time that patience for myself is needed–because my body is clearly communicating that it’s had enough of the push, push, pushing, and the go, go, going. It’s clearly saying, We could use a little help here. We could use a little understanding.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It takes forty years in the desert for seas to part.

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On Working with Your Body (Blog #815)

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I spent today with my friends Aaron and Kate. We were originally going to hang out on a river somewhere, but the weather didn’t cooperate. So instead we ended up with several other friends and acquaintances eating pizza and drinking Bloody Marys, and then later eating Mexican food and drinking margaritas. Y’all, this was an all-day affair, and I can’t tell you how currently stuffed I am. Stuffed with bad decisions. Seriously, I just got home thirty minutes ago, and my stomach is still cramping. I keep apologizing to my body. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just got carried away.

I just said I made bad decisions, but the truth is that I needed today. Most days I’m so uptight. Even when I don’t have a schedule, I make one. I make myself read, make myself write. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy these things. I’m no martyr. Still, I push, push, push. But today there wasn’t any pushing, other than carbohydrates and liquids down my throat. Instead, there was just story-telling and laughter. Nothing serious. Everything lighthearted. Just what the doctor ordered.

Well, everything lighthearted–and TUMS.

I’ve mentioned before that my neck and shoulder have bothered me for months. In short, although they’re not awful, they are really tight and sore. I get a lot of headaches. I can’t tell you how frustrating this is, especially since I’ve tried SO MANY THINGS in an attempt to feel better. Alas, healing continues to be a journey. That being said, this morning I woke up with a stiff neck and tried something different. First, I did my best to relax. This is difficult to explain, but my default, even when lying down is often to hold a certain amount of tension. So I tried relaxing–letting go–ten percent, twenty percent. I kept telling myself, Just give in a little. Nothing bad is going to happen.

Next I tried having a conversation with my body. I‘m going to be spending time with friends today and would like to not get a headache. I’d like to just have fun. Would you mind letting go? Could we try that? And whereas the relaxing and the dialoguing (monologuing) weren’t lightening-flash, Hallelujah-chorus moments, I do think they helped. I went all afternoon and most the evening without even thinking about my neck or shoulders. So maybe my body listened. Eight hours without a undue tension. This is a big deal for me. Granted, I have some tension now, but still.

Things could be much worse.

Now it’s nine at night, and I’m feeling better. My insulin has kicked in, and I’m not cramping anymore. Even the tension in my neck I just mentioned has slacked off a bit. The “big lesson” for me today is that my body is a living, breathing, moving, intelligent thing. So often I think of any tension I carry, any problem I have, as this static, solid thing. As if my body were carved out of a piece of stone and were completely unwilling and unable to change. But more and more I’m learning that my body is something softer (and no, that’s not just because I eat pizza), something wiser, something that’s on my side. Something that’s willing to work with me if I’m willing to work with it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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As the ocean of life changes, we must too.

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A Long-Lost Friend (Blog #783)

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Yesterday I took a nap at the house where I was house sitting. (Today was my last day.) And whereas the nap was wonderful, I was up until almost four this morning. First I exercised. Then I read. My brain wouldn’t turn off. Eventually I passed out, but then I woke up to go to the bathroom (I’m over thirty), then to let the dog out. Finally, at nine, I stopped trying to go back to sleep. Instead, I made breakfast then read a book while I did laundry, then I started packing. This is one thing about house sitting I don’t like–moving all my things in, moving all my things out. Granted, I could just take one bag, but I’m gay.

Gay men have–so–many–bags.

While staying up last night I listened to a podcast about somatics. As I understand it, somatics is a mind/body approach to healing that encourages tuning into outer and inner physical sensations. Here’s another way of explaining it. Recently I asked a friend, “Where do you live in your body (your chest, your head)?” They said, “I try not to. Like, if I have a pain, I ignore it.” I get this. My go-to response with pain is to push passed it. To hyper focus on whatever task is at hand and hope the pain will go away. But because everything I’ve been reading and leaning about lately (like somatics) has encouraged drawing closer to and even welcoming your pain, I’m doing my best to change this habit.

In my experience, drawing closer to my pain doesn’t always make it go away, but it does make it less than it was before. I suppose one reason for this is because when I’m in pain, there’s the pain, then there’s the fear I have about it. For example, my shoulder has been hurting for months now, and when I get in certain positions, I automatically tense up in order to protect myself. Of course, this doesn’t help my tension headaches or encourage relaxation. But by drawing near and approaching my pain with curiosity, the fear I have dissipates. The tension lessons.

One somatics exercise the podcast recommended was to either sit or lie down and simply notice how your body feels. Is there more pressure on one side than the other? Then notice if you’re uncomfortable at all and if there’s any way you could adjust to feel even slightly better. This was the best thing for me to hear, since I often force my body into uncomfortable positions for the sake of better posture. However, according to the podcast, creating unnecessary tension or pain, for any reason, triggers the body’s sympathetic nervous system, which is associated with fight or flight mode. But if you can position yourself in such a way as to alleviate tension or pain, you can trigger the body’s parasympathetic nervous system. Consequently, so the theory goes, your body will relax on its own.

As last night was the first time I tried this technique, I can’t speak to it definitively. That being said, I have been playing around with it for the last twenty-four hours, and it works as well as anything else I’ve tried. For example, I normally carry a lot of tension in my right neck and my gaze is ever-turned in that direction. Because I obsess about it, I often force myself to look straight on. (This always feels like a fight.) But last night and today I’ve been letting my neck go where it wants to. And here’s the cool thing–not only does my neck feel better, I notice that my entire upper body relaxes and my breathing deepens. It’s like this chain reaction. Calm down one part of the body, and other parts follow.

This afternoon I got a haircut from my friend Bekah, who was babysitting her nine-month-old grandson. After the haircut was over, I thought I was about to leave, but Bekah got a phone call and–just like that–handed me her grandbaby. Y’all, he was the sweetest thing. Often children cry when I hold them, but not this boy. He just hung out. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about how smart babies are. Not because they pee on themselves, but because of the way they move, sit up, crawl, and walk. No one has to teach them. They just know what to do. Said another way, their bodies just know what to do.

This is something I’ve really been working to get back to–the inherent wisdom of the body. For so long, because my body’s been sick or in pain, I’ve made it The Enemy. I assumed it hasn’t had The Answers. Consequently, I haven’t been fully present in my body. I haven’t been fully present FOR my body. And yet still it’s continued to work for me, to do its best. Now, as I do my best to approach it as one would a long-lost friend, I absolutely believe it has much to tell me. The Answers. As much as I believe a gay man has many bags, I believe the body has many secrets, secrets it’s willing to share if we will simply draw near to it rather than push it away. No, we don’t heal by pushing any part of ourselves away.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can't build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that's going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is.

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The Uncomfortable Position (Blog #774)

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It’s ten at night, and I’m house sitting. My friend’s dog, who’s been “asking” to go in and out all day (make a decision!) is curled up by my legs on the ottoman. Last night she slept in the exact same spot except we were in bed–a twin bed. This means that I had to morph myself into the shape of a question mark to make room for both of us. This afternoon my friend sent me a text about their dog that said, “Did she sleep under the covers?” I said, “I am NOT the kind of boy who lets someone under the covers on our first night together!”

Unless your name is Zac Efron, of course.

Other than letting my friend’s dog in and out, the day has been uneventful. I’ve read in a couple books, listened to a program about shadow work. It’s all personal growth/psychology stuff. I’ve been in a phase lately–grow, grow, grow. This is my general tendency, of course, but I also know it’s a season. At some point I’ll get distracted by Netflix or get into some television show and stop being so serious. As one thing I read today said, “The bow cannot always be drawn” or it would warp the bow and take away its tension, or that which gives it power.

Tension. There’s something we can talk about. I have a friend who’s a personal trainer, and she says when you do crunches, you want to get your body in “the uncomfortable position.” You know, the one that burns. The point being that the uncomfortable position is where you’re going to do the most good. Maybe it won’t feel good at the time, but you’ll like how your stomach looks in the mirror later. This is what I mean by tension, allowing pain to transform you. So many times over the last five years in therapy I’ve sat with emotional tension to the point I thought I was going to explode. Recently I had a heart-to-heart with someone I care about, and leading up to it was hell because I knew we needed to talk but was worried it wouldn’t go well. (It did.) And whereas I HATE that feeling of tension, that uncomfortable position, I’ve always enjoyed where it’s propelled me to.

What I mean is that on the other side of every difficult conversation, my relationships have improved. Even when the relationships themselves have been dissolved or put on hiatus, that’s still been an improvement from my perspective. Because, for example, there’s less drama, less fighting in my life. More than anything, the biggest improvement has always been my being able to speak my truth, whatever that is. (Examples–I’m hurting. I’m sorry. I don’t understand what happened. I love you, but this isn’t working for me.) This is the greatest benefit that I’ve had from the tension in my life. It’s forced me to speak up and grow up. If I hadn’t been so frickin’ miserable in my last long-term relationship, I never would have sought help in therapy or started this blog.

I can’t tell you how much I hate this, that we often (as in, all the time) have to experience tension in order to experience a release. I hate that “the uncomfortable position” is the one where growth happens. But of course it is. Because when we grow, by definition, we’re going somewhere or doing something we haven’t done before. We’re entering into the land of the unfamiliar, and the unfamiliar is always uncomfortable because we’re not used to it. But the good news is that the first time you speak up (or whatever) is the hardest, and then it gets easier from there. With all things, practice is key. Personally, I’m learning to lean into that which is uncomfortable or painful. Not because I’m kinky like that, but because I’m finally realizing that if I’m uncomfortable, if my bow is stretched, that means there’s a lot of potential power there if I use it right.

Recently I was reading that life operates according to the principle of polarity. That is, for every up there’s a down. For every period of activity, there’s a period of inactivity. For every bit of tension, a release. According to this viewpoint, the greater the down, the greater the up. Because life balances itself. This is what I mean by there’s a lot of potential power that comes from being in an uncomfortable position. Once when I was agonizing over a difficult situation, my therapist said, “I know it’s tempting to binge watch Netflix and eat chocolate cake, but you need to have a conversation. You need to speak up. I’ve been where you are, and if you really wanna be free, I’m giving you the playbook.” This is what I mean by if you use your difficult circumstances right. Anyone can run away from tension or just let it dissipate on its own. But USING that tension to propel yourself, to change yourself, that’s another matter. That’s how growth happens.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There’s nothing you can do to change the seasons or hurry them along.

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On Starting to Believe (Blog #755)

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Today’s (and some of yesterday’s) thoughts–

1. On families

Recently my mom came into my room while I was lying on my bed, like I am now. “Wow,” she said. “You look so much like my dad.” (Grandpa died nearly twenty years ago.) Then she just stood there for a minute, taking it in, I guess. And whereas it was slightly weird for me in the moment to be compared to someone else, later I felt really proud. Not that he didn’t have his problems, but Grandpa was a good man, so I’m glad to look like him. I know my mom loved him a lot. Anyway, it’s cool to think about how our ancestors not only give us life but are also still with us in some way, how they leave their mark, both physically and emotionally. More and more, I’m grateful for this unseen connection.

2. On being famous

Yesterday I bought a copy of the spring issue of Bass Angler Magazine. This is something I never thought I’d do ever–buy a fishing magazine–but I did because get this shit. Remember last fall when I traveled to the Upper Cumberland region of Tennessee for a travel writing job? Well, my friend and fellow journalist Jill was there for the same reason, and she ended up writing an article for Bass Angler about the area and places a person could go fishing–and used three photos with me in them!

So I’m pretty much famous now.

3. On fine tuning

Last night and this morning I made more progress on the puzzle I’ve been working on. Last night one of the sections I worked on was all water–just different shades of blue and green. At first I thought, I’ll never get this. All the pieces look the same. But then as I took a closer look, I could distinguish several differences in the shading and shadows. Today after I took the below picture I noticed one of the pieces I’d connected didn’t go where I put it. I thought, Wait a damn minute. You don’t belong there.

This made me think of writing, the way once I get a general idea of what’s going on with a piece I’m working on, then I can tweak and fine tune it. Likewise, it made me think of my relationships and how I interact in the world. This afternoon I read a book that said we’re allowed to play around with our emotions and how we respond to and act on them. So often we get stuck in patterns of behavior–the big picture–we think, this is who I am–but it’s not like we’re set in stone. We can take a closer look at thing, maybe see something we didn’t see before. We can say, No wait, this doesn’t fit here, in this situation.

That is to say, we can change.

4. On bodies

Speaking of being set in stone, today I listened to an interview with David Berceli about how the body responds to trauma. I’ve mentioned David’s work before, here. In today’s interview, David said that our bodies are designed to survive, and that if we’re somehow threatened and can’t fight or flee, we’ll otherwise freeze. That is, our bodies will physically contract, as if into a ball. This applies whether someone throws a rock at us or we’re in a car accident. The good news is that this is how our bodies shield us from harm. The bad news is that sometimes they stay contracted even after a particular threat or trauma is over. Think of any tight muscles you may have in your hips or neck. It’s not that your body can’t relax, it’s just that it hasn’t gotten the message that it’s okay to yet.

One of my takeaways from this interview is that our bodies are always trying to protect us. So often I get frustrated with my tight hips and shoulders, but it helps to think that perhaps they’re tight because my body is trying to help me rather than hurt me. At least at one time, this was the best my body could do. And this is a message I keep getting over and over again, that our bodies are on our side. And whereas I’ve been slow to come around to this idea–it’s much easier to think that my body is the exception to the rule–I’m starting to believe it, that not only is my body on my side, but that it’s also smart enough to heal itself, to heal us.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Each season has something to offer.

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