God Is Extravagant (Blog #125) - Me and My Therapist

Leave a comment August 2, 2017 CoCo

Today I really only did two things–went to therapy and went to the lake. So really, I went to therapy twice. Y’all it was a great day. Sometimes I wish my therapy sessions could be recorded as part of a reality TV show–that’s how great I think they are. More specifically, that’s how funny I think my therapist is. Out of context for privacy, today she said, “That guy was a death trap on wheels,” “She sounds like she was too cute by about half,” and, “What happens when the shit hits the fan?”

Maybe you would’ve had to have been there. (Go to therapy!)

After therapy I drove to meet my friend CJ, who lives near Beaver Lake. A few weeks ago she invited me up to go kayaking (anytime), so I figured today was as good a day as any. Ever the consummate host, CJ had the kayaks ready to go, and by that I mean they were in the back of her truck and loaded down with fried chicken. So I threw on some super-cute swim trunks, a t-shirt, and some flip-flops, and we headed for the lake. In fewer than ten minutes, we were in the water, CJ in her ten-foot red kayak (along with her dog), and me in her twelve-foot blue one.

Y’all, I’m pretty sure today was my first time in a kayak–ever. Boats, canoes, rafts–sure–but never a kayak. WOW. I’ve been missing out. Per CJ’s instructions, the first thing I did was “get as naked as possible,” which means I took my shirt off. Then for maybe an hour, hour and a half, we paddled around–on our own, together. At one point I hopped out, swam around a while. Back in the kayak, I noticed how difficult it was to paddle whenever a boat sped by. The waves would hit the side of the kayak, making it difficult to go forward. But then I’d turn my boat into the waves, head on, and I could cut right through them.

I figure there’s a lesson there somewhere, something about not turning away from life’s challenges. But I will say this. Currently, my arms are worn out. Perhaps it would have been easier to let the waves push me along, to not fight them. Honestly, I don’t think there’s a right or a wrong, an only this or only that. Today in therapy I told my therapist about a situation that happened recently wherein someone I’d just met referred to me as “a hetero.” They were just making an assumption (I assume), but there was a small window of time where I could have corrected them. But I didn’t. For about a day, I gave myself a hard time for not “being authentic,” or “speaking my truth.” Then I cut myself some slack–I don’t have to out myself to every stranger I meet.

My therapist said sexuality is personal, and it can get exhausting to ALWAYS call bullshit, to face every single wave directly. So sometimes you turn your boat sideways, sometimes you even turn your boat and go the other direction. In other words, sometimes you speak up, sometimes you don’t. And that’s okay. As my friend George says, “You don’t have to attend every fight you’re invited to.”

Between seven and seven-thirty, CJ and I pulled over and ate fried chicken on a large rock. It’s possible I ate almost the entire bag. It was SO GOOD. CJ’s dog kept staring at me the whole time, like we were suddenly best friends. (Literally, bitch, please.) Little sucker even sneaked around and licked my fingers.

But who could blame her?

After dinner we got back in the kayaks, paddled under Highway 12, and watched the sunset. Then we packed things up in CJ’s truck and headed back to the house. Within ten minutes we were sitting on the front porch eating homemade banana nut bread. Talk about delicious.

Last night I read that “God is extravagant.” The idea came from The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, and yes I’m aware that I’ve been talking about the book nonstop for the last six weeks. But don’t worry, it’s “only” a twelve-week program, so we’re halfway there. Anyway, the author basically said–Look around–God is fancy–He likes pretty things. He didn’t just make one pink flower, he made hundreds. And what about all those different snowflakes! I mean, it’s not that I haven’t considered life’s abundance before–I have. I’ve certainly read a lot about it. But there’s something about that word–extravagant–that made things click for me like they never have before.

Today my therapist said that one of the hallmarks of mental health is flexibility in thinking. She said that when people get locked into right-and-wrong or black-and-white thinking there’s not a lot of room for growth. Well, although I’ve wanted to see abundance all around me for a long time, I’ve been pretty locked into scarcity for a while now. I don’t know, maybe thirty years. (Give or take.) But I have been trying to be flexible–to see abundance even during a period in my life when certain things are lacking (like–I don’t know–a job). So all day today, I kept looking for extravagance. And guess what? It was there–in the humor of my therapist, in all that water, in all the rocks, trees, and clouds, in all the colors in the sky. And did I mention there was fried chicken?

Talk about going over the top.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

All things become ripe when they’re ready.