One Stitch at a Time (Blog #672)

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Today I’m generally content. This is a phrase my therapist uses a lot, generally content, that feeling somewhere in between being on top of the world and having the world on your shoulders. For me, it’s not feeling fabulous, but not feeling unfabulous either. It’s loving the results of your new diet, but not loving the fact that you just ate chicken and rice for the third time in two days. Generally content–it’s that feeling you get when you finally embrace your age and the fact that you enjoy a good prune.

So sue me.

This afternoon and evening I’ve done a little of this, a little of that. That is, I read in a book, watched an old television show on my laptop, did my knee rehab exercises, and knitted. Yesterday my friend Bonnie gave me my first official pattern or project–a pot holder that has the word HI stitched in the middle of it. When it’s finished it will be a square–36 rows with 36 stitches each. (That’s 1,296 stitches.) Tonight I spent about an hour doing the first six rows. (That’s 216 stitches.) Right at the end some stitches slipped off one of the needles, but after a lot of concentrated thinking, I figured out how to fix them. Phew.

I plan to go to the gym whenever I get done blogging. I went last night and tried a few new exercises, some for my knee, some for the rest of me. Y’all, at one point, while I was standing on one leg and passing a weighted ball from one hand to the other, I actually found myself having fun. What the hell–having fun at a gym?! Now, despite that fact that I’m often intimidated at the gym and am afraid of not knowing what I’m doing, I’m thinking about adding in some other exercises tonight. Because the truth is, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Granted, I’m no stranger to the gym, this isn’t my first workout rodeo, but I mean in general I’m not a pro. I’m not a pro at knitting, not a pro at working out. Fortunately, it turns out you don’t have to be a pro to either get good results or enjoy yourself.

This also applies to dancing, cooking, and love-making (I’ve heard, Mom).

I’ve blogged about it before, but it’s really been on my mind today that a little bit at a time goes a long way. I’m reading this book about resetting your body’s nervous system (in order to eliminate tension and pain), and it emphasizes that all the exercises should be done SLOWLY. It says, even if you just feel a SLIGHT feeling of relaxation, that’s significant. And whereas my inner completionist just wants the results, I know this is how results manifest–a little bit here, a little bit there. As in knitting, progress comes one stitch at a time.

Earlier I realized that it’s basically been two months since my knee injury. The accident happened December 1, and today is the last day of January. Just over sixty days, and so many of those days I’ve wanted to cry or pull my hair out it’s been so frustrating. But shit, look how far I’ve come. I’ve had surgery. Now I can walk without crutches. I can’t dance yet, but I’m making other noticeable improvements week by week. If things go according to plan, in one more month I’ll be jogging. A month after that, it’ll be spring; it’ll be warm out. Yes, this is doable. I’m gonna dance again, me and my constantly cold feet are gonna make it through winter, and I’m gonna get that potholder done.

One stitch at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be weird here. You can be yourself.

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The World Won’t Fall Apart (Blog #671)

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Things I am grateful for today–

1. Space

Last night I went to the gym at midnight. There were maybe three other people there, but basically I had the whole place to myself. It was crazy. There were three dozen treadmills and all this equipment, and I got to use whatever I wanted while I rehab-ed my knee and listened to podcasts. So often when visiting big cities or going to the movies I feel cramped or confined, but last night I could spread out. It’s just been on my mind lately, that both at the gym and home I have room to learn and grow in. Even on the internet, I have space to explore my insides and figure things out.

2. Time

This morning after breakfast I felt like going back to bed, so I did. My body’s just been tired lately, my stomach’s been upset. And whereas the productive part of me feels like I “should” be up doing things, I’m trying to do better about listening to and following the wisdom of my body. Like, it’s tired? Then I need to rest, not push. It’s that simple. And I’m glad that I can, that my life is such lately that I have the time to take it easy. Not everyone does, and I’m sure I won’t always.

3. Information

This evening my friend Bonnie gave me my second knitting lesson. Before I learned to knit; today I learned to purl. (There are two basic stitches in knitting–knit and purl.) Then Bonnie taught me how to read knitting instructions (a pattern). Y’all, I was absolutely fascinated. Just like dancing or any specialty thing has its special words and phrases, so does knitting. That is, it has its own language, a language I’m excited to learn.

4. Permission

Recently my therapist and I talked about the fact that the famous author Wayne Dyer apparently ran eight miles every day for over twenty-five years. Well, he missed one day. Anyway, I’d read about this and brought it up to my therapist because, well, it seems extreme. I mean, that’s every day, including days when he was sick or had the flu, and days when his children or grandchildren were born. Not that I really give a shit what other people do, but I wanted to talk about it because I recognize that extreme tendency in myself. Take this blog, for instance. I’m getting close to 700 days in a row, and there have been plenty of days when I was sick as a dog or simply tired that I did more harm than good by staying up and blogging just because I’m so often such a hard ass with myself.

Granted, I think there are times when you need to hold your own feet to the fire. This unbroken chain of blog posts gives me a great sense of pride and accomplishment, and that’s something. Plus, I know it will–one day–come to its natural end. (All things pass way.) But until then, I’m trying to give myself permission to lighten up in other ways. For example, I’m doing my knee rehab exercises twice a day instead of three. I was told, after all, that I’d reach my goal with “two or three times a day.” So, because three times a day was simply wearing me out, I’m choosing not to overachieve and rather simply achieve instead.

Surely the world won’t fall apart.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perfection is ever-elusive.

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Return on Investment (Blog #670)

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This morning I woke up to a voicemail from my dermatologist. “Call us about your results,” it said, which I assumed had to do with to the moles I had taken off recently. Shit, I thought, I have cancer. Super optimistic, I know. That’s me, always assuming the best. As it turns out, the results they were referring to was a test I had done last year at another dermatologist’s office (when my regular dermatologist didn’t take my insurance), a test I was previously told said I had “an inflammation whose cause is unknown.” (The problem went away after I changed washing detergents, but I’ve had other similar issues lately.) My dermatologist’s nurse said the report actually said my skin irritation could have been caused my mites, like scabies. (Ick, gross.) So just to be on the safe side, now I’m on an anti-parasite medication.

This is my life.

Alternatively, the report said I could have contact dermatitis. So maybe in a couple weeks I’m going to get tested for skin allergies. And whereas all of this sort of wears me out, I’m glad that my dermatologist is being aggressive and doing her best to figure out what’s going on. The way I see it, the more information I have, the better. When I walked into the bathroom this morning, I noticed my tongue was black. Again I thought, Cancer. But it turns out it was just a result of having taken Pepto-Bismol last night. My point being, despite my tendency to freak out, I’m learning to trust that everything is going to be fine.

This afternoon I had physical therapy for my knee, which I had surgery on last month. I go to this office with several therapists who all work together, and today I ended up with someone I haven’t seen before. She said she’d had three knee surgeries–three!–including one ACL repair like I had. This was super encouraging, since she was running around the therapy center like a jackrabbit and said now she never thinks about her surgeries. “It gets better,” she said. “Just be patient and follow the protocol and you’ll get to where you want to be.” So this is my new mantra. Be patient. Follow the protocol.

This evening I made dinner–chicken and rice. Oh my gosh, y’all, do you have any idea how long it takes to make rice? Fifty frickin’ minutes. What the hell? It took over an hour to put my entire meal together and only seven to eat it. Where’s the return on investment?

Ugh. It occurs to me that in order to appreciate anything, you’ve got to put your time or money into it. You’ve got to be patient, follow the protocol. For example, after a year of seeing doctors, I appreciate my health more than I ever have. After having injured my knee, I want to run (well, walk) out into the streets and shout, “Do you know how lucky you people are because you have two working legs?!” And despite my joking about how long my meal took to cook, I did enjoy it more than I would have a fast food burger. Not only was it healthier for me, but I made it, and there’s a certain amount of pride in that. (I boiled rice!) So I guess that’s the return on investment, that warm fuzzy feeling you get when you know you’ve worked hard for something, be it your health (including your mental health), your ability to walk, or even your supper.

And, especially in the midst of winter, let us never underestimate the importance of a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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That’s Enough for One Day (Blog #669)

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Today I can’t find my balance. This morning I woke up at seven after having slept, I don’t know, four hours and couldn’t go back to sleep. I’m blaming my achy leg and keep telling myself, Be patient, Marcus. They put a drill through you, they put a drill through you. Finally, I fell back asleep. Still, I’ve taken two naps today. My tummy’s been acting up–who knows why?–and all I want to do is rest. Recently I watched a video that said that’s normal anyway. It’s winter. It’s cold out. Nature wants to hibernate. Go to bed, damn it.

After three days of clean eating, I’m officially over it. Not that I’m quitting, but EVERYTHING has gluten, dairy, sugar, or alcohol in it. (Especially alcohol has alcohol in it.) That being said, I have lost a few pounds. That’s exciting. I’m doing this diet for other reasons, of course (to give my body a break and help it heal), but I don’t know a gay man who wouldn’t be thrilled about seeing the needle on the scale go down. My thought: Who cares if my stomach’s doing somersaults? At least it’s gonna be flat. Sick, I know.

Don’t worry, I have a therapist.

This afternoon I dived into a book about pandiculation, which is a fancy term for yawning. Well, stretching and yawning. It’s basically what your dog or cat does when it wakes up in the morning, although they’re apparently not so much stretching their muscles as they are contracting them (so that they can then relax and lengthen them). Anyway, the book, which is called Move Like an Animal, says that pandiculation is our built-in mechanism for relieving stress, tension, and trauma and eliminating pain. Eeek. I’m excited to try the suggested exercises.

Currently it’s 9:30 at night, and I’m washing the sheets on my bed. I keep thinking about the various books I’m reading, one on pandiculation, one on Rational Emotive Therapy, one by Wayne Dyer. I get so eager to learn, to finish them, and yet I’m not inclined to read every damn minute of every day. Especially since so much of what I read is on a digital device, there’s only so much my eyes can take. Even now as I stare at my laptop, they feel like they’re going to fall out of my head and roll onto the floor. Plus, my brain is tired, full. If it could talk, I imagine it would say, Haven’t you had enough words for one lifetime?

It occurred to me earlier that I often try to do too much, too fast. Shocking, I know. That is, since I had knee surgery last month, I’ve started doing rehab, and that means I try to get to the gym several days a week. Then I started learning to knit, and then this weekend I started this diet. Now I’m trying to complete a read-a-thon. All this in addition to blogging every day. Granted, I think each and every one of these things is well and good; it’s just a lot at one time. I blame America. Everyone here is constantly on the damn go.

Another thing I thought about today is that my body always gets tired and wants to slow down whenever I cut back on carbs. It gets better after a week or so, after things switch over from carb-burning to fat-burning mode. So now it occurs to me that rather than push, push, pushing, the kind thing to do in my present situation would be to be patient. Because a lot of things have changed lately. My body’s been through hell, and it takes time to adjust, time to cool off after you’ve been through the fire. Sometimes, I think, you have to say, “That’s enough for one day.”

That’s enough for one day.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Boundaries aren’t something you knock out of the park every time.

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The Tendency of Life (Blog #668)

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After two days of feeling like crud, I woke up feeling better today. In fact, when I woke up at eight this morning I felt so much better that I couldn’t go back to sleep for over two hours. What finally did the trick was a visualization/relaxation album I found on my music subscription service. You know–relax the top of your head, relax your shoulders, all is well in the universe, and shit like that. Anyway, I’ve pretty much felt fabulous all day–no sinus junk, more energy.

I can’t tell you how exciting this is.

I’m attributing my health’s upswing to a number of things. First, there’s a probiotic that saved the day last year when I had a three-month-long sinus infection, so I’ve been hitting that twice a day (by swabbing it up my nose) since I woke up sick Friday morning. For sinus infections, it’s seriously a miracle. Second, I’ve been taking Zicam, Airborne, and bone broth in order to support my immune system. Third, I’ve cleaned up my diet by eliminating or severely cutting back on wheat, dairy, soy, sugar, and alcohol. And not that any of this is fun (or tastes like chocolate cake), but I sure enjoy the results.

Despite feeling better, I’ve taken today easy. This afternoon I read for a couple hours, did my physical therapy exercises for my knee (I had surgery to repair my ACL last month), then took a nap. Then this evening Mom made dinner, and all of us watched the live(ish) version of the musical RENT on Fox. I say live(ish) because one of the actors, Brennin Hunt, apparently injured his foot during dress rehearsal yesterday, so most of tonight’s footage (no pun intended) was from a previously filmed dress rehearsal. Still, having an injured leg myself, I thought it was pretty cool that in tonight’s final scene (which was live), Brennin appeared not only in THE cast but also in A cast.

The show must go on!

While watching tonight’s show, I finished my very first knitting project. And whereas I wish I could tell you what it is, I can’t because it was just for practice. Still, I’m super proud of it, since it’s my first “thing,” and I didn’t drop any stitches. (Drop a stitch is knitting talk for fuck up.) Anyway, it occurred to me while I was working on this project that every stitch is important. Just drop one of those suckers, and the whole thing will be off. (I know, I dropped plenty of stitches initially and had to start all over.) Likewise, when it comes to healing, or even one’s life, everything you do counts. There’s no such thing as an insignificant action or day. Everything links together.

The idea of abundance has been on my mind today. This morning when I searched for visualization/relaxation material on my music subscription service, I noticed that one of my favorite authors, who previously had only one album on the service, now had fifty-two albums on the service. Holy crap. If I were to order just one of those albums on Amazon, it would cost eighteen dollars. That’s nearly a thousand dollars worth of material I have at my fingertips for free (or rather, for $9.99 a month). I don’t know, I guess I’m trying to see abundance where I didn’t see it before, to recognize that it doesn’t just come in dollars. It also comes in information, health, and time–time to read, time to rehabilitate and heal, and time to learn new skills.

Time to drop a stitch and start over again.

Drop a stitch and start over again. The show must go on. Recently I rewatched Bill Moyers’s interviews with Joseph Campbell, and my man Joe, while talking about facing your challenges with courage, said, “I think of grass, you know. Every two weeks a chap comes out with a lawn mower and cuts it down. Suppose the grass were to say, ‘Well, for Pete’s sake, what’s the use?'” In other words, we all get knocked down, but the tendency of life is to get back up again. That’s something I’m learning by watching and experiencing my body healing, that it wants to try again, that it wants to find balance, and–more importantly–that it can if I’m willing to help it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Obviously, God's capable of a lot. Just look around."

When Your Body Asks for Help (Blog #667)

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Yesterday I blogged about my not feeling well and wanting to give up. This is my general inclination, to give up, whenever life becomes “too much.” Honestly, I was really hoping I’d get a good night’s rest and wake up fine today. I didn’t. I mean, I slept fine, but I woke up still sick. I really don’t know what’s going on. A sinus thing. It’s always a sinus thing. Whatever it is, I’m not amused. Hell, I’m rarely amused. It takes a lot to amuse me. I’m just–what’s the word?–unamuseable.

Well, now that’s not true, since I just amused myself.

As I said yesterday, my recent sinus junk mostly bothers me not only because my sinuses have been a huge historical problem for me, but also because I have a bunch of other stuff going on right now and am tired of shit going wrong. I’ve had headaches since I was a kid, my stomach’s been upset since last July, my elbow’s had psoriasis for months, another section of my skin’s had a fungal infection for weeks, and I just had knee surgery in December. My point being, even before this sinus crap showed up I was thinking, Enough already! I cry uncle.

Yesterday, the day I woke up congested, I noticed a red spot on my wrist. No itching, no scales, just a red spot. But still, as a self-professed hypochondriac, I freaked out. It’s the psoriasis, I thought. It’s spreading! So yesterday afternoon I upped my water intake and also bought a natural supplement (White Willow Bark) that’s supposed to be good not only for pain relief (from headaches), but also for skin disorders like psoriasis. Having been disappointed by supplements more times that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by them (and, to be clear, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by them a number of times), I started the supplement last night with cautious optimism.

My attitude: I’ll try almost anything once.

At the close of last night’s blog, I said it was time to start eating better. Recently I watched a video posted by a prominent figure in the alternative health and healing community, Charlie Goldsmith, about his father, who has Parkinson’s and showed significant improvement in his ability to sit down, stand up, and walk after just four days of changing his diet. And whereas I don’t know specifically what Charlie’s dad’s diet included or excluded, I’m assuming it included–um–vegetables and excluded the usual suspects–gluten, dairy, soy, sugar, and alcohol. Anyway, this video reminded me that diet is a huge contributing factor when it comes to one’s health, which is why I decided it was time to get serious about what I’m eating.

Therefore, before I went to bed last night, I ate a salad. Then today I had oats for breakfast. And whereas some elimination diets wouldn’t approve of oat-eating (because oats are a grain), I figured it was better than a piece of white bread slathered in peanut butter. (Progress, not perfection.) Then I pulled myself together and went to the grocery store and got everything I needed for at least a week’s worth of clean (mostly Paleo) meals. Y’all, I loaded my cart with fruits, nuts, and vegetables for eating, as well as Zicam, Airborne, and bone broth things for healing. I mean, it’s all for healing. Everything you put into your mouth has an effect.

I hate to admit that, but it’s true.

Granted, I don’t know what’s going to happen to my body. I could very well wake up tomorrow with even more sinus trouble or skin flare-ups. But even after half-ass starting this thing yesterday, that red spot on my wrist is almost completely gone, and–I swear–the psoriasis on my elbow looks better. And whether or not the water I drank yesterday, the salad I ate last night, or the supplement I started had anything to do with it, the improvement reminds me that my body is not only AWARE of what’s going on with it, but also willing to repair its problems when given the proper support. That’s my logic with all these issues that have cropped up lately, that my body is simply asking for help. And whereas I can’t promise that I’ll help it perfectly, I can promise that I’ll do better.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Kindness is never a small thing."

When You Experience a Setback (Blog #666)

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Tonight’s blog is number 666, The Mark of the Beast, and this morning I woke up feeling like The Beast had come to visit me in the night. That is, I woke up with sinus junk, the beginnings of–dare I say it?–a sinus infection. Whatever it is, I’ve felt crummy all day. Not absolutely miserable, but crummy–low energy, overwhelmed. That’s one of the ways I know something is off in my body, even the simplest of tasks seems too difficult to handle. Before breakfast a friend of mine came by to show me how to make kefir (a fermented dairy beverage teeming with probiotics), and when I didn’t have the right sized strainer to separate the grains (which look like cottage cheese and do the actual fermenting) from the liquid that you drink, I just about fell apart.

This afternoon I had physical therapy, which I told myself was the only thing I “had” to do today. And whereas it wasn’t fun, I survived. Then I went to the health food store to pick up and try a natural pain reliever I read about online (I can’t stay off the internet), then to Walmart to get that strainer I needed. At Walmart I also bought a gallon of water, which I’ve been drinking all day in hopes of flushing out any foreign invaders in my body. (Consequently, I’m currently getting up every twenty minutes to pee.) Then I came home, ate a quick lunch, and went back to bed.

The nap, I think, helped. I still don’t feel great, but I do feel better than I did this afternoon. This evening I’ve tried to “eat light, eat right” and take it easy. That is, I drank green tea and practiced knitting. Now I’m obviously blogging, and with any luck I can be done before long, do my physical therapy exercises again, and go back to bed.

With everything else that’s going on with my body (I just had knee surgery and have some skin and stomach issues), I’m really not amused with this sinus junk, especially since I’ve had so much trouble with my sinuses in the past. That being said, I haven’t had a full-blown infection in over a year, so that’s something to celebrate. (Insert throwing of confetti here.) And who knows how this will turn out? It’s not full-blown yet, and I’m trying a home remedy that’s worked a number of times before, so fingers crossed. Still, it’s difficult for me to not awfulize, feel sorry for myself, and imagine the worst.

In times like these, whenever my “this sucks” plate is full, I really want to throw in the towel and stop doing everything that’s good for me. I want to quit working out, quit eating a decent diet, and quit positive thinking because “none of this shit works.” It’s a childish attitude, I realize, but it’s my attitude, and it’s honest. Whenever I get overwhelmed, I want to take all my toys, go home, and eat chocolate cake. I mean, if I’m going to get sick anyway, screw you, Healthy Living.

This isn’t the way to be, of course. Just because you get sick or experience a setback (or half a dozen), doesn’t mean it’s time to give up on good habits. It certainly doesn’t mean it’s time to give up on yourself. Rather, for me, this setback is a reminder to be there for myself, to listen to my body and care for it even more than I have been. Sweetheart, we’ve been through a lot. How can I help you? In an effort to do this, I plan to use the weekend to rest, drink plenty of fluids, and–perhaps, no, definitely–clean up my diet. Because honestly, it could be worse, but it could be a lot better.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A friend’s laughter takes us backward and carries us forward simultaneously.

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Pancakes and a Secret Handshake (Blog #665)

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It’s ten at night, and I have a headache. A few hours ago I took a nap hoping it would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got worse. I hate that–and the fact that whenever I don’t feel well I scare the shit out of myself imagining what could be wrong. Once I had a boyfriend who gave me a diagnostic health book that always gave the worst case scenario as the answer to any given problem. Like, oh, your stomach’s upset? It’s cancer. Or, your foot hurts? It’s gangrene. And whereas I thought the gift was cute, I threw it away after we broke up. First, I didn’t need the reminder. Second, no hypochondriac with a headache should ever allow themselves daily access to such a book.

Or the internet.

This afternoon I saw my friend Bekah, who cuts my hair. (I went for a trim.) When we talked about my recent knee surgery, Bekah said that she’s had three–on the same knee–then added, “Welcome to the club of I Can’t Believe This Is My Fucking Life.” Is that great or what? I told her it would be my quote of the day. But seriously, I’m glad to know there’s a club. I’ve always wanted to be in one. With any luck, next I’ll find out we have regularly scheduled pancake breakfasts (in the afternoon, of course) or maybe even a secret handshake.

Pancakes and a secret handshake would be the best!

I don’t know what to blog about today. Getting my hair cut was my “big thing” for the day, other than going to two health food stores in search of non-ultra-pasteurized milk. And whereas the first one said they didn’t have it but could special order it, or I could be one of those people and get raw milk from a local farm (“Their number is on that bulletin board,” the lady said, “but you’ll have to bring my own container”), the second one did. Thank God, after my experience at the first store, I was really starting to worry that I’d have to turn my life upside down to get a half-gallon of non-ultra-pasteurized milk. Instead, I just had to turn my wallet upside down. It cost $6.39!

That’s nearly $13.00 a gallon.

This super expensive magic milk, which as I understand it is simply–milk, is for a fermenting project one of my friends is helping me with tomorrow. We’re going to make our own kefir. Well, we’re going to make my own kefir, since my friend already has theirs. That’s apparently the deal, in order to make your own, you first have to be given a starter kit from someone else who already has one (or buy it on the internet). Anyway, I’ll know more about the whole process tomorrow. Also, if you have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, kefir is a fermented dairy product similar to yogurt except it’s runnier. That is, you can drink it. I’m interested in it because it’s supposed to be high in probiotics, and everyone who’s paranoid about their health is into probiotics. Granted, you can buy it at the grocery store (and I often do), but supposedly making your own is cheaper, even after you pay all that money for milk that obviously comes from cows with golden udders.

Now it’s eleven, and I’d like to end this so I can go to the gym and do physical therapy. Recently I started a stretching routine (that a friend told me about and is on public television) in addition to physical therapy, so I’m spending a good part of my day counting repetitions. Thankfully, as a dance instructor, I have no problem with this. At least until I get to eight. Anyway, I’m doing both the stretching routine and the kefir thing tomorrow because I’m hoping they’ll help me, the stretching with my headaches, the kefir with my stomach. And whereas I’ve been doing the stretching for two whole days (!) and my head still hurts, I’m telling myself that some things take time. (That’s a joke–everything takes time.) But really, so often I want to ditch good habits when I don’t see immediate results rather than stick with them and be patient.

Maybe you’ve felt this way before.

Personally, I’ve felt like giving up more times that I can count. I think, I’ve exhausted every option, and nothing is working. But then–eventually–I remember the universe is large and no, I haven’t exhausted every option. And because there’s something in me that refuses to give up, I take a deep breath and try again. Surely something will work. There’s that verse in the Bible about the person who had their prayer answered simply because they were so damn persistent, because they didn’t quit asking. The squeaky wheel gets God’s grease or whatever. Anyway, maybe you can’t believe this is your fucking life, but I think there’s hope for whatever it is you’re going through, so keep trying. And even if nothing works, I definitely know a club you can join.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Not knowing what's going to happen next is part of the adventure."

On Musterbation (Blog #664)

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The above photo was taken by my friend Tom Wilmer during our recent travel writing trip to Fall Creek Falls State Park in the Upper Cumberland region of Tennessee. Apparently the tree in the photo is one of the most photographed trees in America, and if you Google “Buzzard’s Roost tree” you can see even more of it. I’m using the photo tonight–even though all I can think about when I look at it is how not-flat my stomach looks–in order to prove a point, which I’ll get to shortly. Plus, the photo reminds me that I used to have two functioning knees and before long I’ll be back to running around state parks, crawling around mountaintops, and–eeek!–dancing.

This afternoon I went to the chiropractor and got a massage (at the chiropractor’s office). I can’t tell you how grateful I am for these people. So often I insist on suffering, like, I can take care of this problem myself. But whenever I do break down and ask for help, I actually get it. So this is me being thankful for my chiropractor and massage therapist and everyone else who’s helped me this week–my dermatologist, my therapist, my physical therapist, and–oh!–a very nice gentleman at Kinko’s today.

The Kinko’s trip had to do with printing off and signing some paperwork to finally–finally–settle my bodily injury claim with the insurance company of the man who knocked the shit out of me over a year ago and totaled my car. This has been one of the most frustrating ordeals I’ve ever gone through. And whereas I’m not completely happy with the way it’s turning out, I’m not completely dissatisfied either, so I’m moving on. What’s done is done, and now I can think about/worry about/stress about other pressing matters. This has taken eighteen months of my life, and God knows I have plenty of other things on my mental and emotional plate to deal with.

This evening I curled up on my futon with a cup of hot tea and read several chapters in Wayne Dyer’s I Can See Clearly Now, a book that’s reminding me that there are no accidents, everything in one’s life is good and useful (although sometimes it takes years to see this), and the mind is a powerful creator and healer. In one story, Wayne describes seeing a woman (under hypnosis, I think) cause her skin to physically blister when she was touched with a rubber eraser because she believed it was a hot poker. Is that crazy or what? But Wayne’s point was that our beliefs truly can and do affect our realities, so they’re worth examining. In terms of my present health challenges, I’m personally trying to shift my thinking from This will never get better to My body is both willing and able to heal.

In another story, Wayne talks about the work of Albert Ellis, a man who greatly influenced Wayne’s thinking. Ellis, as I understand, was the creator of Rational Emotive Therapy (RET), which came before and has similarities to Cognitive Behavior Therapy (CBT). Both therapies contend that it’s not outside people or events that cause our unhappiness, but rather our thoughts or beliefs about those people or events that cause our unhappiness. According to Ellis, in a video I watched on YouTube, we “disturb” ourselves whenever we think things MUST be a certain way. He says the three big MUSTS are, “I must do well or I’m no good, you–you louse–must treat me well or you’re worthless and deserve to roast in hell, and the world must give me precisely what I want or it’s a horrible, awful place.”

Sticking with today’s events as examples, this theory would contend that it’s not the fact that my stomach isn’t flat that disturbs me, but rather my belief that my stomach must (or should) be any different than it actually is. Likewise, it’s not the fact that my car accident matter dragged on for over a year that stresses me out, but rather my belief that “this shouldn’t have taken so long.” Ellis refers to this kind of thinking–in which we place demands on ourselves, others, and the universe that are in direct opposition to what-is–as musterbation. Is that great or what?

“Masturbation is good and delicious,” he says, “but musterbation is evil and pernicious.”

There are no rules.

With this in mind, I’m trying to lighten up on myself. For example, normally by this time of night (12:23 AM) I’m done with the blog and already at the gym doing physical therapy, so there’s a part of me that thinks, I must finish up. I must go work out. Fuck! I’m behind. Then my mind launches into all sorts of “the world will fall apart” scenarios because I’m not obeying my made-up rules. (No one else is obeying them either, by the way.) But the truth is, there are no rules. Nothing MUST happen other that what IS happening right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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When the universe speaks—listen.

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The Universe Saves My Ass (Again) (Blog #663)

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Over the holidays I wrote about an incident in which I made a bank deposit and was given credit for one hundred dollars more than I should have been. When I checked into it after I had my knee surgery and could go to the bank in person, I was told to keep it. “Merry Christmas,” the guy said. Also over the holidays, a friend from high school bought a gift certificate for dance lessons. These two surprises, the hundred dollars and the gift certificate money, absolutely saved me when it came time to pay my bills a couple weeks ago. Without either source of income, I would have seriously been up shit creek.

This afternoon I saw my therapist, and we talked about money and how it relates to depression, which we talked about (and I blogged about) a week ago today. First I should reiterate that this time in my life has been quite challenging in a lot of respects, and my knee injury and subsequent surgery have just about pushed me over the edge. Surgery is always big deal, of course, plus the fact that I use my legs to make a living as a dance instructor, and now I can’t dance until this summer. Just last week I turned down a teaching gig because the woman interested needed me to dance with her (because her husband won’t–typical!). My point being that a big part of what causes my worry meter to spin out of control is finances. And sure, some really cool things happened over Christmas, but as I told my therapist, “The universe is really fond of this last-minute shit.”

And I’m not.

Thus, despite the fact that the universe came to my rescue over the holidays, I’ve been worrying ever since. How will I make my next round of payments? Where will the money come from? Of course, I’ve had MY IDEAS. Every time someone calls to inquire about dance lessons, and maybe half a dozen people have contacted me since the first of the year, I think, This is it, God. Now just have them actually take a lesson and PAY ME. Alas, so far God hasn’t taken me up my latest suggestions about how to give me money. I realize this isn’t why God exists, to act as my personal automatic teller machine. Still, we discuss my survival a lot. And hell, this evening at Walmart I did find a penny in the parking lot, so maybe he is listening and I just need to be more specific about HOW MUCH it takes to get by these days. I mean, perhaps God doesn’t keep up with inflation.

I’m sure he’s very busy.

Well, get this shit. Sometime last year–in the spring, maybe–I got a postcard in the mail notifying me that I could be part of a class-action lawsuit, some situation in which the plaintiffs were alleging that the defendants had illegally called them on their cellphones. Or something like that. I honestly don’t remember what the offense was. But I did go ahead and “opt-in” because I thought, Hell, Three dollars and sixty-seven cents is three dollars and sixty-seven cents. Isn’t that how these things turn out–pennies to the plaintiffs? Well, when I opted-in, I found out my chances of a decent return were slightly better than that. As I’d apparently been illegally called about a dozen times (I know it was fewer than twenty for sure), the website for the lawsuit said I could receive anywhere from $20 to $60.

I mean, in my world, that’s dinner and tank of gas.

Okay, so that was it. I sent the postcard in and absolutely forgot about the whole thing. But when I got home from therapy and Walmart today, there was a disbursement check from the lawsuit waiting for me on my bed. (My dad gets the mail and puts it on my bed. Isn’t that cute?.) Three dollars and sixty-seven cents, I’m thinking as I open it. Maybe twenty-five. But no. The check was for three hundred dollars.

Three. Hundred. Dollars.

There’s always hope.

Y’all, I can’t tell you how exciting this was. To celebrate, I ordered pizza for me and my parents. (My dad suggested it.) More than anything, it was a huge relief. At least for the next month, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. I definitely feel lighter than I did this morning. Not just because the universe saved my ass again, but because it reminded me there’s always hope. Seriously, think about it. What are the odds that I’d end up part of some random lawsuit over annoying telemarketing calls placed years ago and that the whole thing would actually resolve and pay out weeks after I had knee surgery when I really need the cash? I’m constantly thinking whoever runs the show up there doesn’t know what they’re doing, but clearly that’s me.

So I’m admitting it. I don’t know EVERYTHING.

Joseph Campbell said, “Follow your bliss, and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” And whereas I’m still staring at a lot of walls in my life, I can say this has been my experience. For the last two years I’ve been living life on my terms–following my bliss–working on this blog, trying to make my dreams of being a full-time writer come true. In a lot of respects, it’s been hell, going against the grain, against what the world deems as normal. Even I often think, Why can’t you just get a real job and be like everybody else? But in other respects, it’s been heaven, following my heart and soul wherever they’ve wanted to lead me. And so far, despite this path being scary as all get out, it’s been okay. More than once, unexpected doors have opened and I’ve been given what Campbell called “magical aid.” Like, today I found a penny! But seriously, even though I’m still astonished when magical aid shows up in my life, I’m beginning to trust that it will always be there. I’m starting to believe that everything–somehow–will be all right.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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One thing finishes, another starts. Things happen when they happen.

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