On Seeing Constellations and Yourself (Blog #524)

Last night my dad and I went to a concert in Van Buren. My sister and I bought the tickets for Mom and Dad for Dad’s birthday, but since the concert ended up being the same day as Mom’s surgery (which I blogged about yesterday), I went with Dad instead. And since my friend Bonnie graciously volunteered to come over and sit with Mom while Dad and I were gone, we didn’t have to “worry” about Mom being alone while we were out having a good time. Well, as good of a time as you can have at a gospel concert where the age of the average attendee is “one foot in the grave.”

Amen?

Anyway, when Dad and I got back from the concert, I took Bonnie out to eat as a thank-you (per Dad’s suggestion). Bonnie drove, however, which ended up being the perfect thing because Bonnie has a convertible and–after dinner–said, “You wanna go cruising?” Well, I of course said yes, and for maybe thirty minutes, maybe an hour, Bonnie both tootled and sped along the back roads of Van Buren.

Y’all, it was the perfect thing on the perfect night, and the majority of the time I had my head titled back toward the heavens, star-gazing. I learned recently that the constellations include nine birds, three of which can be seen from the Northern Hemisphere, and two of which are connected to the Summer Triangle, which are the three bright stars you could easily spot overhead if you were to look up any summer evening. Anyway, there they were–Aquila the Eagle and Cygnus the Swan (often called the Northern Cross)–soaring.

This afternoon I saw my therapist and brought up a couple of things that I’ve already mentioned here–the first being my recent dream about dead bodies, the second being my experience with someone being passive aggressive.

With respect to my gory dream about dead bodies (that were cut up in pieces), my therapist agreed that it was about all the “non-productive” parts of my psyche that I’m discarding (like people-pleasing, approval-seeking, perfectionism, and self-judgment). “And no wonder you were terrified in the dream,” she said. “This kind of work is unsettling, and God knows that working with me is NOT for the faint of heart.” Then she addressed another part of the dream that I didn’t blog about originally–the fact that there were cops from whom I was trying to hide the dead bodies. “That’s your inner authority,” she said, “the part of you that wonders, Is is REALLY okay to be myself?” Then she paused. “So what do you think–is it okay to be yourself?”

“Yes,” I said. “It most certainly is.”

With respect to my being DIRECT with someone who had been PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE, when I told my therapist that I’d called this person out, she almost jumped out of her chair and started doing the Macarena. Then, since this wasn’t the first time I’ve either been passive aggressive or had someone else be passive aggressive, we talked about the idea that certain challenges show up in our lives over and over again UNTIL we figure out the best way–the most direct, honest, and kind way–of dealing with them. This isn’t the perfect analogy, but it’s like the universe sends us “tests” until we get a “passing” grade–then it’s on to something else. “Since you’ve handled this situation so differently than you have historically, my guess is your future experiences with passive aggressiveness will drop by at least fifty percent,” she said.

Last night while Bonnie and I were out driving, I identified two constellations that I recently read about and had never seen before–Sagitta (the Arrow) and Delphinus (the Dolphin), both of which are located nearby or “above” Aquila the Eagle. Since all the stars in both constellations aren’t very bright (unlike me and you, dear reader), it took a while to find them. I kept thinking, Is that them? But after comparing the sky to my handy-dandy constellation phone app, I was sure of it–I’d found them. The best part? I looked for them again tonight, and they’re still there!

I’m coming to think of parts of my personality this way, as constellations I’m just learning to see clearly. Not that they weren’t there before–those parts of me that are direct, bold, and self-accepting–they just weren’t defined or highlighted. And here’s the most beautiful thing about seeing a new constellation or a new part of yourself–you can’t UN-SEE it ever again. Just as the summer sky will never not include the Dolphin and the Arrow for me, my personality will never not include, or at least have access to, its stronger, healthier aspects because I can see them now. I can see–me–now.

[Tonight’s star/constellation image is from the Stellarium app. For a bigger, better version, right-click the image and select “Open Image in New Tab.”]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The deepest waters are the only ones capable of carrying you home.

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On Being a Nervous “Wreck” (Blog #439)

It’s five-thirty in the evening, and I’ve hijacked the porch of my friends Bonnie and Todd. We have a dance lesson in an hour, so I showed up early to chill out. (I don’t know where they are, but they said to make myself welcome.) I’ve spent the day being a grown up (boo hiss), scheduling an appointment with an allergist next week, making copies of my blood work for the doctor, paying bills (ick), and writing a blog post for a client. For most of the day, I’ve been nervous, which happens a lot when I have things “to do.” This is a real irony in my life. I don’t function well without a to-do list yet get anxious when I have one.

This is me AFTER four years of therapy.

I don’t remember feeling this way when I was younger. As a teenager I got up early every day during the summer to work as a camp counselor. I interacted with people–with children. In college I worked in a law office–answered the phone, made copies, handled finances. Maybe I was repressed, but I really don’t recall being so on-edge about everyday activities. Of course, I did nearly shit my pants when the attorney I worked for asked me to drive his standard pickup truck across town. Because back then I didn’t know how to drive a standard.

And I agreed to do it anyway.

Nothing to worry about.

Talk about being a people pleaser. There I was, maybe nineteen, willing to risk my life and the life of everyone on Rogers Avenue in Fort Smith because I was too afraid to admit I didn’t know something. What the hell, Younger Marcus? Thankfully, at some point, after stalling out several times in the middle of traffic, I did speak up. “Um, sir, I honestly don’t feel comfortable with a stick shift.” And it was that easy. “That’s okay,” he said, “nothing to worry about. You can take the other car next time.”

Looking back, I really have had some great employers and mentors. Lately I get all twitterpated around matters of business and adult responsibilities, but I’ve truly been encouraged my entire life. Like, I’ve never had a boss yell at me or bitch. I’ve had jobs that didn’t work out, but I’ve never been fired, never been told, “You let me down.” Well, there was that one time in high school when a friend of mine and I got carried away during a roast. Turns out you can’t insinuate that someone at a Christian school is gay or sleeping around. (People cry.) That was one of the worst nights of my life. I felt bad about it for a decade or more. (Guilt should have an expiration date.) Several teachers pulled us aside and said, “We’re so disappointed in you.”

Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of, disappointing someone. Granted, I’m not technically under anyone’s authority at this point in my life, but it’s hard to grow up in the Christian faith and not feel like SOMEONE’S looking over your shoulder at all times. I realize I’m about to touch on a sensitive subject, but there’s a lot of fear in faith, at least the faith I grew up in. There were all these rules to follow, literally hell to pay if you didn’t get it right the first time. (By first time, I mean this lifetime).

I think I’ve come a long way in this regard. I’m not afraid of God or the universe as I see them. I don’t think I’m going to burn for all eternity because I kiss boys or eat a piece of catfish. I just don’t. And yet I still have this leftover fear or anxiety about life in general. It’s that other shoe dropping thing, like something bad is going to happen. Like I’m going to be handed the keys to a car I’m not ready to drive. I’m so afraid of stalling out on life’s highway. So many days it feels like I already have stalled out. Me stuck on the side of the road, the rest of life whizzing by me. Whoosh!

I’m a nervous “wreck.”

Things are just fine.

In my calmer moments, I realize things are just fine. Having been pulled over on the side of the road for the last year or so, it’s natural for me to feel nervous about getting back on the road. I think that’s part of what’s happening lately. Life is starting to pick up. Opportunities are coming my way, and part of me isn’t sure I can handle them. So I have to take a deep breath, remind myself that I’ve always risen to the occasion before. Twenty years later, I can drive a stick shift. I’m careful about what I say about others AND I know when people are overreacting. (Some of those jokes would have KILLED with a different audience.) More than anything else, I know that I can’t beat myself up for things I don’t know or am still learning. I have to give myself some grace. In terms of my life right now, I’m in uncharted territory. It’s okay to feel nervous, to have butterflies as I figure things out.

And I will figure things out. I will get back on the road. I’m sure of it. Just as I’m sure there’s no god or universe judging me for where I am or how fast I’m getting “there.” For surely there is no “there” to get to. Either we’re loved and accepted as we are right here, right now (nervous, broken down on the side of the road, whatever), or we’re not loved and accepted at all. Isn’t that what unconditional love is–love without conditions? Personally, I believe this is how life loves us, so I’m working on loving myself this way, loving others this way, embracing all that is, as it is.

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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