On Slowing Down, Changing Worlds, and Seasons (Blog #1092)

In an interview I listened to yesterday, former head hostage negotiator for the FBI Chris Voss said, “You have to go slow to go fast.” Meaning that in high-stakes or even low-stakes negotiations it pays to pump the brakes, really listen to the other party (rather than simply trying to cram your viewpoint down their throat), and communicate clearly. In dancing we say it like this: take time to do the prep, the setup. Don’t get ahead of the beat. Once I told a couple who was working on a routine for their wedding, “You’re already going too fast now, and I can promise you that you’ll go even faster on your wedding day (because of adrenaline) if you’re not careful.” Well, I was at the wedding, and sure enough they were at least eight eight-counts (sixty-four beats) ahead of the music.

Which means they finished before the song did.

Ugh. Pumping the brakes is such a challenging thing. We live in a fast-food society, and we want what we want when we want it (now). The internet and Amazon Prime haven’t helped things, since they’ve made both information and everything under the sun almost immediately available. Consequently, our natural tendency toward impatience has been encouraged. Perhaps this in one of the silver linings to our current situation with respect to COVID-19. We’re being forced to stay in, slow down (even the internet is dragging because so many people are on it), and wait. For a solution. For our jobs. For toilet paper.

As I’ve thought about the phrase “go slow to go fast” today, I’ve related it to this blog and my personal journey, one of my consistent themes being “slow down, be patient.” Not that I’ve WANTED to slow down, but it’s simply been the only way. To learn all the things I have in therapy, to learn all the things I have through this blog. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “The years teach much the days never know.” Amen. This is the way of it. You can’t hurry love, you can’t rush the seasons, and you can’t speed up your own personal transformation. Not that you don’t have any say in how long it will take, since God knows you could drag your feet about it or refuse to do your part, but even when you’re doing everything you know to do, metamorphosis is not going to happen overnight.

Alas, slowing down seems to be the best way to “get there.” This is a message of myofascial release too. It’s not push hard and fast, it’s push gently (sink) and slow. It’s wait for at least five minutes. I know, I know. Who has five minutes? But the good news is that if you do go easy and you do wait, restrictions that have been rock hard for years can melt like butter. This is the “go fast” part. Meaning the best way to get quick, lasting results is to slow the hell down.

It’s counterintuitive, I know. But look at nature. The way a tree grows. The way a baby grows. Life doesn’t get in a hurry. And yet we do. Despite the fact that we ARE life. Three years ago I started this writing project wanting to get somewhere. Recognized or whatever. And boy was I in a mental hurry. But having spent every day since slowly but surely putting down hundreds of thousands of words, thoughts, and ideas and having been changed by the process for the better, I’m convinced “steady as she goes” is the only way. What’s more, now that I’m quickly approaching the end, there’s part of me that wishes I hadn’t been in such a rush in the beginning. That I’d savored The Changing more.

Tonight I started working my way through a free online class about storytelling presented by Khan Academy and the creative team at Pixar. It’s magical. Anyway, one thing the Pixar people talk about is the difference between a character’s wants and needs, two things that are often (and probably should be) at odds with each other. For example, in The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy WANTS to get back home to Kansas. But what Dorothy NEEDS is to get in touch with her brains, heart, and courage. In other words, Dorothy doesn’t need to get back home to Kansas, she NEEDS to get back home to herself.

And who doesn’t really?

Thinking about the wants and needs in my life, I know that a few years ago I WANTED to move to Texas and start my career as a writer. Alas, the gods had other plans, since what I NEEDED was to first unlock the talents, sensitivities, and powers inside of me that back then lay dormant. In terms of storytelling, what I’ve undergone the last several years would be called “a character arc,” meaning that THROUGH CONFLICT and by OVERCOMING OBSTACLES, I’ve transformed into a better version of myself. Unfortunately, both in storytelling and in life, it appears conflict and obstacles are NECESSARY COMPONENTS for getting us not where we WANT to be, but where we NEED to be.

This sucks, I know.

Naturally, we WANT this transformation to happen quickly. More often than not, we NEED it to happen slowly. (Why, Marcus?) Because every time you change something about yourself (a thought, a belief, a boundary, a perception), you quite literally change the world you’re living in. Not that you leave earth and end up on a different planet, but in effect you do. Because every time you change you end up playing by a different set rules, and that means your interactions, strategies, and results change. So you might as well be living on Mars. Or in Oz. All this to say that world-changing is jarring, so you need time to adjust and get the lay of the land. Okay, I’m single now. All right, I’m not putting up with that crap anymore. Shit, I’m quarantined.

More and more my message to myself and others is, Sweetheart, be patient. Yes, there are mysteries inside you that desperately want to come out. But mysteries are never called out in a flash or forced out through screaming. (Hurry up and heal!) Rather, mysteries are coaxed out by being snuggled up to, by being deeply heard. Sweetheart, what do you have to reveal to me? I’m listening. And do please take your time. This is why we have time. Not so that we can get an answer to our problems lickety split, but so that we can be grown by both our trials and our triumphs, the way a tree is grown by life’s ever-changing seasons.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Who’s to say that one experience is better than another?

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On Pause (Blog #1084)

Today I’ve mostly stayed at home. This afternoon I went to my aunt’s house to help her with a computer problem and borrow a card table, and this evening I went for a walk (exercise is good for your immune system), but that’s it. Otherwise I’ve been around the house. Eating. Reading. Eating some more. Ugh. Pandemics are stressful. As one of my friends lamented on the phone yesterday, “I’m going to gain weight. I’ve accepted it. It’s just going to happen.” Alas, there are so many things happening right now that we need to accept. That are so hard to accept.

If you don’t know what they are, turn on the news. Or check your bank account.

This afternoon, from home, from a distance, I spoke to my therapist. In terms of COVID-19, she said everyone’s life has been put ON PAUSE, that it’s clearly time for all of us to slow down, slow the fuck down. “I feel really sorry for people whose identities are wrapped up in being productive or being social for the wrong reasons [so they can post about themselves online],” she said. “They’re about to get a serious reality check.”

“Right,” I said, “because if your self-worth is centered around doing things, what happens when you can’t do them?”

This is a serious and valid question, one, I think, we’re all being given time to consider. Along these lines, my therapist referred to this time in history as “a gift.” Not because people are terrified, sick, and dying, but because our collective go, go, going has come to a serious halt. Perhaps because we haven’t been able to do it for ourselves, life has pumped the brakes for us. Consequently, we HAVE to slow down, gather around our families, search our interiors, and think about the things that really matter: life, death, what we prioritize, the way we treat each other. Of course, all of this is not only scary as shit, but also a lot to handle at once. My therapist said, “Everyone is real crazy right now. So when you go to the grocery store you have to be psychically prepared to walk into a wall of fear.” In other words, tits up. Life right now ain’t for sissies.

As if it ever was, is, or shall be.

Joseph Campbell tells a story with this moral. Something about how little baby turtles that are born on a beach come crawling out of their hatched eggs and head straight for the ocean. And not only are there the waves to deal with, but–bam! right off the bat–there are seagulls swooping down to eat them. So like, this planet isn’t for the faint at heart. You gotta be tough. But not too tough. Because you don’t want to become bitter. Ugh. This is the challenge that Jesus talked about. To be wise as serpents (look alive, little turtles!) and–at the same time–innocent as doves (don’t hate the seagulls for being seagulls; they know not what they do).

I borrowed the card table from my aunt’s today because I have some editing work to do this week. And whereas I’d normally go to the library to work, thanks to COVID-19 and social distancing, I now need to work from home. Me and the rest of the world. Alas, the only table or workstation we have here is our kitchen table, and that part of the house is way too noisy for concentrating. So I set the card table up in my room as a makeshift desk, and now my room, more than ever, has become my little corner of the globe. True, the card table bounces a little with every keystroke, but it doesn’t suck. Indeed, as I look around my room, I think, I like it here. It ain’t the library, but if I absolutely had to, I could get sick and die here, content.

Not that I want to die, and not that my chances of dying are high. But as I’ve said before, at some point you have to consider your own mortality and what you’re really all about. For me this looks like asking myself if I can find peace no matter what. When I’m being productive, when I’m lazing around. When I’m healthy, when I’m sick. When I’m being embraced by others, when I’m alone. This is no small task, of course, and is the undertaking of a lifetime. And yet I’m proud to report that significant progress can be made in a fairly short amount of time. Having sat down every day for almost the last three years with the express intention of meeting and coming to know myself, I’ve realized I actually like who I am. And that I don’t need anything out there to make me feel good in here. Sure, chocolate cake, a load of money, and a hot lover wouldn’t suck, but there are increasingly more days when, in the absence of all that, I’m totally elated. The mystics say this is the big cosmic joke, when you finally get that everything you thought was important isn’t. That you don’t need “a thing” to make you happy.

What? My bank account is empty, and there’s not a roll of toilet paper in sight?

Hilarious.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.

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Together (Blog #1080)

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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It’s never too late to be your own friend.

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Knowing (Blog #1079)

What a long day. Yesterday I spoke about, upon my sister’s recommendation, stocking up on food and supplies for my family. For the next month. Because of COVID-19. Well, today was more of the same, since Walmart didn’t have many of the things on our list last night. This afternoon my dad and I went to Sam’s (which, incidentally, was seriously picked over in terms of chicken, beef, and paper products), Aldi’s (where we found chicken thighs at one location and dog food at another), and Walmart (where we finally found chicken breasts, ground beef, ground turkey, and pot roast). This after I went to Walmart (for a prescription), the health food store (for elderberries), and Target (for distilled water) this morning.

In the midst of my running around, I had an hour-long discussion about COVID-19 with my best friend Justin. I always call Justin whenever I want to know something because he’s super smart, well-informed, and level-headed. And whereas I don’t have time and it’s outside the purview of this blog to relay everything he said, Justin basically said, yes, stock up so that you can comfortably survive a quarantine, limit exposure, and avoid the madness. “The last thing you want is to be standing in line at the pharmacy waiting on your blood pressure medication with everyone coughing on you,” he said.

This makes sense to me. So thanks to my sister and Justin, I’ve now spent the last two days preparing. Granted some people refer to preparing as panicking, but there’s a distinct difference. There’s a lot of middle ground, room for common sense. Because I’ve been to half a dozen grocery stores in the last two days, my common sense tells me it’s smart to take this seriously. Pandemics don’t fuck around, especially if you’re in certain age and/or health categories, and neither do scared/worried/concerned citizens who want to be able to wipe their butts during a pandemic.

I’m trying to tell you that toilet paper is almost impossible to find.

But don’t worry. “French people have been living without toilet paper for centuries,” Justin said. “It’s called a bidet.”

As Crocodile Dundee said, “To wash your backside, right?!”

This evening my parents and I spent a couple hours rearranging our refrigerator and freezer and getting everything we bought today put on shelves in our pantry. Of course, my mom has already started a list of things we forgot. Ugh, you don’t realize how much stuff you use and depend upon until you start thinking that stuff may soon be difficult to come by. Anyway, I’m worn out. It’s been a full day of go, go, go, and I’m spent. At the same time, I’m still wired, thinking, What else do we need to do? Alas, at some point, after all our hand washing, all we can do is wait. Yes, we can be prepare, take good care of ourselves. (“Getting good sleep is essential to a strong immune system,” Justin reminded me.) But we can’t control everything, certainly not a virus. (They don’t historically take orders from well.) At some point we have to surrender. At some point we have to admit that we’re human. Vulnerable. Temporary.

Even if it’s not from this, sooner or later, we all have to go.

This being said, more and more I’m believing in our bodies’ phenomenal capacity to not only adapt but also to heal. Earlier this week I did EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) on a major car accident I was in when I was fourteen, which for over twenty-five years has left me feeling “vulnerable.” Well, the major message I got from my body during the EMDR treatment was, “We know what to do.” I wish I could adequately convey how deeply I felt and heard this, that my physical organism wanted me to know, “We have good instincts, we’re smart, we know how to survive, we know how to get through things and be better after the worst has happened.”

Of course, I was like, “Who, me?”

This really has been the longest journey, coming to trust myself, coming to believe that I’ve come equipped with everything I need to “make it” on earth. And yet I am coming to believe this. Not just because I read it in a book somewhere a long time ago or because my therapist says, but because I’ve experienced it in my being. And whereas I know the path I’ve taken isn’t the path for everyone (or even anyone) else, I do wish everyone this same knowing. Even if, in the beginning, it’s just a hoping. The conviction that no matter what happens, no matter how ugly things get, we’re going to be okay.

At least in our souls, if not in our bodies.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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If You Had to Leave the Planet Tomorrow (Blog #1078)

It’s three in the morning, and–good lord–I need to keep this short. All day long I’ve been engrossed in conversations about and preparations for COVID-19. Perhaps this is rightly so. Cases are popping up, well, more than anyone would like. Consequently, schools are closing, small and large gatherings are being canceled or postponed, and people are washing their hands like crazy. (Some, I understand, for the first time in their lives.) This afternoon I went to the library and learned they’re wiping down their hard surfaces with disinfectant three times a day. Scrubbing the outside of books like it’s going out of style. “But what are they doing about the insides?” a friend of mine asked. “What if someone sneezes on the inside of a book?”

This, of course, is what’s got people so afraid. When it comes to viruses, we simply don’t know where they may be lurking. If we wanted to, we could drive ourselves mad imagining.

Historically in these types of situations (like flu season or Y2K), it’s been difficult for me to find the happy medium between panic and apathy. Like, I’m either completely paranoid or totally flippant. More and more I’m learning to find balance. To not scare myself to death, but to not bury my head in the sand either. Along these lines, I haven’t been overly concerned about COVID-19 until recently, despite my having a sister who’s been paying more than close attention to the subject for six weeks now. “I know you think I’m crazy,” she says. Then she adds, “But you don’t know what I know.”

Granted. I certainly don’t claim to be an expert on the topic. If you watch the news, you probably know more than I do, so let’s be clear–it’s not my objective to inform anyone about the facts. This being said, I have spent a fair amount of time in grocery stores this week and am listening intently to the conversations of friends and strangers, and here’s what I know–people are afraid. At the very least, they’re cautious. To this end, the toilet paper shelves at at least two of our Walmarts are completely barren, as they are at our Target. Tonight between eleven and one in the morning, upon my sister’s encouragement, I stocked up on non-perishables for me and my parents, and there wasn’t an ounce of disinfectant to be found. Otherwise, I didn’t have much problem finding things, although they were EXTREMELY low on rice, Ramen, peanut butter, and canned soups, fruits, and vegetables.

My sister says that stocking up isn’t panicking; it’s preparing. To me this makes sense. If you don’t get sick or quarantined, fine, you’ve got some extra food. If you do, you’ve got food period. Plus, the fewer trips to the grocery store you make, the more you limit exposure to yourself and others. And even if all of this doesn’t persuade you (which really isn’t my objective here, do what you want to do), there’s the fact that plenty of other people are stocking up, and therefore certain supplies will soon become much harder to come by. Toilet paper, for example.

Honestly, and I realize this may be future fodder for me and my therapist (the people, not the blog), one of my biggest concerns when I think about the possibility of getting COVID-19 is that it could keep me from finishing three consecutive years of blogging. I think, What if I got too sick to write, or died?! What if I couldn’t finish? But then I take a deep breath and remember that the truth is, it would be okay. I’ve done more than enough here.

In this sense, I think there’s benefit in contemplating your personal worst case scenario with respect to this thing. Because, let’s face it, we’re all leaving this planet one day, so the sooner we confront our fears, the better. This is part of the reason I’m so determined and vigilant to “deal with my shit” through therapy, this blog, EMDR, and other methods. I simply refuse to be a slave to my fears if I don’t have to. So I’m like, Let’s deal with them. Let’s get them out on the table. Let’s look our monsters in the eyes.

Let’s ask ourselves, “What am I really afraid of?”

One thing I’ve realized from thinking about the possibility of dying–and dying soon–is that if I did die, I’d leave this world satisfied. Not that there aren’t a hundred other things I’d like to do and accomplish, but I really do have a deep feeling of pride and satisfaction having (almost) completed this blog. Like, I believe it was and is part of the reason I’ve been put on this planet and part of my legacy, my gift to humanity, including myself. And I’ve done it. I’ve risen to the occasion, and I’ve done it. I haven’t shared every detail of my life (that’s never been the point), but I’ve created and given something true. Not that every word is gospel, I’m just saying this is honest and real, from my heart. And I would hope that everyone, if they had to leave the planet tomorrow, could feel this good about something they’ve done and the life they’ve lived.

Like, I did it right this time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Things that shine do better when they're scattered about."

On Pandora’s Piggy Bank of Emotions and COVID-19 (Blog #1077)

A couple things that have been on my mind today:

1. Shoved-down emotions

Last night a friend and I discussed the human tendency to shove down emotions, this after my blog post yesterday about how we so often keep our dramas and traumas unresolved by hitting the pause button on them instead of letting them play out by fully feeling and learning from them. I always think of my shoved-down emotions as being in a jar (an emotions jar), but that makes it sound like, you know, whenever you want you can take the jar down off the shelf and–to put it bluntly–deal with your shit. I told my friend, “I don’t mean to make it sound that simple.” It’s not. Well, my friend said they picture their shoved-down emotions as coins that have been dropped into a locked piggy bank. The problem? We don’t always know what key opens the bank.

Personally and fortunately, I’ve had some success lately with “opening the bank.” Through traditional talk therapy and this blog, of course, but especially through EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) and myofascial release. Still, although EMDR allows you to choose a topic or emotion that you want processed, both therapies are nonetheless a crap shoot. That is, I have little control over what ultimately happens each session. Or, better said, what emotions come up. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh, sometimes I get angry. In this sense, playing around with these therapies (or any healing strategy that gets results) is a bit like opening Pandora’s Box, or, in keeping with my friend’s way of seeing things, Pandora’s Piggy Bank of Emotions. Like, once you find a key that unlocks what you once locked up, good. Use that sucker. But look out. Because you don’t get to decide what comes flying out or in what order.

In my experience reliving past emotions (through therapy, writing, body work, and EMDR), there’s ALWAYS a discomfort (the emotion and often its accompanying story or message that’s been ignored or put on hold) followed by a comfort (a relief, a re-cognition of thoughts and beliefs, or a recognition that it’s over or of a lesson learned). This is the good news. Buried emotions that are resurrected never do us permanent harm. Rather, they rise again as our teachers. They come bearing gifts. What’s more, once they are felt and fully experienced, they return to our system and become a source of vitality. Think of your shoved down emotions like the characters in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe that are turned into statues by the White Witch. They’re literally frozen in time. But they’re also reading, willing, and able to come back to life, to help you and others, if you can simply break the spell they’re under.

I told my friend that I think a huge part of the “unfreezing your emotions” picture is to simply be willing, to let your body know that, whenever it’s ready, you’re willing to hear what it has to say. Of course, this involves being willing to feel all kinds of terrible and wonderful emotions, and, chances are, investing in some Kleenex. Also, it involves a willingness to be wrong. Because, guaranteed, what your body thinks and what you think (or would like to think) are two different things, and when you open Pandora’s Piggy Bank of Emotions, your body is going to have the last say. This is ultimately a good thing, but you gotta be ready to have your world turned upside down. Because as soon as you FEEL different, you WILL think, believe, act, and interact different. In short, everything in your life will LOOK different.

This, of course, is scary as shit and probably why most of us do our best to keep the lid on.

Still, I recommend being willing to change, being willing to heal.

2. COVID-19

Tonight I went grocery shopping for my parents. And whereas I found everything on their list, I had to look long and hard to find toilet paper, which we actually needed. Ugh. This virus is becoming A THING, a problem. Tonight I learned that, in addition to international travel being severely restricted by the federal government, several major large gatherings (dances, meetings, etc.) are being postponed or canceled voluntarily by their organizers. Part of me is taking all of this in stride. Part of me is freaking out. (I’m never leaving the house again. Except to buy toilet paper.) It’s a fine line.

Tying this conversation to the previous one, I will say that the more I deal with and process my childhood and adolescent dramas and traumas, the less REACTIVE I am to, well, anything. Like, I’m not scared as easily. I don’t sweat as much (metaphorically speaking). Free of my past crap, I can think more clearly and be RESPONSIVE. This applies not only to COVID-19, but to everything. Last night my friend and I saw a play and stood by the stage door afterwards so they could get autographs from a few of the cast. Years ago I would have been trembling, shaking in my boots, intimidated. Last night I was like, I’m standing outside on a warm night. Oh look, there are some lovely and talented people. Just like me.

Along these lines, my main and foremost thought about COVID-19 is that I think one of the reasons people are going nuts is because the virus is demonstrating a fact that we all know deep down, and may even say out loud, but certainly don’t act like is true. What fact? The fact that we are all not only connected to each other, but also dependent upon each other. Why do we freak out when one person hundreds of miles away has the virus? Because, for one thing, what if THAT PERSON works in a toilet paper factory! For another, we intuitively know that a virus can spread just like that. Because we are all inextricably woven together like a spider’s web, and what affects one of us affects the whole.

We get this when it comes to COVID-19. Alas, we forget that our individual thoughts, emotions, and beliefs affect our WHOLE body. And not only our whole body, but the world’s whole body. We think it’s not a big deal to carry around ancient baggage or false perceptions, and yet we all know entire families that are made miserable by one person who refuses to deal with their shit. We all know communities and nations that have been paralyzed by gossip–gossip!–that’s traveled faster than a virus. Now, I don’t like this any more than you do, the fact that we’re all connected. Because it means that what you do or don’t do affects me. Because it means that people I don’t like are not only influencing the world I live in but are, in fact, necessary to it.

John Donne said, “No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.” These are the facts. No thought, emotion, belief, or person is unimportant.

So let’s start acting like it.

And, of course, washing our hands.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Solid help and solid hope are quite the same thing.

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