Acknowledging the Weather (Blog #847)

Leave a comment July 25, 2019 CoCo

Phew. I’d really wanted this entire day–from start to finish–to be easy going, relaxing. And whereas part of it was, not all of it was. I’ll explain. This morning I had a lovely breakfast then sat down with a new book, about labyrinths, which I blogged about yesterday. My goal was to read the entire book in one day. I always feel like a badass when I do that. Plus, I have SO MANY books that are partially completed because I often do what I did today–start a book but not finish it right away (or ever).

The reason I didn’t finish today’s book is because after reading for a couple hours I decided to take my car, Tom Collins, to get an oil change. “And if you don’t mind,” I told the girl at the counter, “check out the steering wheel–it’s been pulling to the right lately.” Well, later a guy called and explained–“One of your tires is separated.”

“What does that mean?” I said. (Will it be getting a divorce soon?)

Well, duh, my tire was coming apart, which meant I needed a new one–two new ones. For $175 each. Ouch. Talk about depressing. Guess who’s coming apart now? Can’t a guy catch a break?

I know, I’m whining.

“At least your tire didn’t blow up as you were driving down the interstate,” my dad said later.

Yes, at least that didn’t happen.

Money’s been a big issue for me the last few years. I can’t tell you the number of times it’s felt like the universe has kicked me in the balls financially just to turn around and do it again. I mean, I get that it’s not personal. Shit happens. It just FEELS personal. Of course it does. A person’s feelings always feel personal. Anyway, all I can say is that although life’s challenges keep coming, my reaction to them is getting better. In the past I would have been upset about the two new tires for days. Today the “oh crap” cloud only hung around for a few hours. Then it was back to sunny skies.

Recently my chiropractor and I were discussing a situation that’s been frustrating me for a while now. And whereas I won’t say what it is, I will say–it’s my life. Anyway, he said, “Think about how that feels,” and I said, “It feels like a headache (which I get a lot of).” Then he said, “Now think about how it will feel when that situation resolves.”

“Oh wow,” I said. “That feels more open, more free.”

Later I told my therapist about this interaction and–without warning–began to cry. “I’ve been waiting for my life to change before I could let my guard down and relax,” I said, “but the truth is–I’m allowed to feel good now.”

I’m allowed to feel good now.

This has been on my mind a lot lately, that I’m responsible for my mental and emotional atmosphere. It’s not something that’s going to come together reliably, consistently on its own. Thinking you’re going to be in a generally happy state of mind without any effort is like thinking you’re going to have a rockstar body (after your twenties) without making a damn effort to have one. Applying this logic to my internal response to my car needing new tires, I decided this afternoon that I could either continue to feel bad until my mood passed on its own, or I could purposefully do something to improve it.

The “feel better” route I ended up taking was a meditation in which I first accepted my life for how it currently is (warts and all) and then imagined how I wanted it to be. And whereas the imagining how I want it to be part felt great–more open, more free–it was the accepting part that really shifted my attitude. So often when I’m afraid, nervous, worried, or upset, I shove those feelings aside. I clench my jaw and think, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got shit to do. Books to read, blogs to write. But in the meditation I welcomed all of my thoughts and feelings, all of my life situations exactly as they were. Out loud I said, Everyone and everything is welcome here.

For me, this exercise caused an immediate, positive shift. There’s something about not pushing so hard, about not trying to change the weather. So many times I’ve walked outside to cloudy skies and an absolute downpour and thought, Oh crap. Then I’ve run to my car, trying to avoid getting wet. Please. Other times I’ve smiled and purposefully walked slowly so the rain could soak me through. This is what I mean by acceptance, and acceptance can be applied to any situation, thought, or feeling in your life. It’s not saying you don’t want things to change. It’s acknowledging the weather for what it is–right here, right now, powerful. So we can either run away from the storms in our lives, or we can face them, embrace them. We can say, “I’d like to stop pushing against you. I’d like us to work together.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same.

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A Penny in the Middle of a Labyrinth (Blog #846)

Leave a comment July 24, 2019 CoCo

Because I recently watched a documentary about labyrinths and got all excited about them, today I went on a labyrinth hunt. A labyrinth has been defined as “an ancient symbol that relates to wholeness [that] combines the imagery of the circle and the spiral into a meandering but purposeful path” and is often used as a form of walking mediation. Anyway, there’s a website you can use to locate labyrinths, so this afternoon I visited two in Northwest Arkansas–the first at Washington Regional Medical Center, the second at Unity (Church) of Fayetteville.

Y’all, I may have found myself a new hobby.

Apparently there are two main styles of labyrinths–classical and medieval. The first labyrinth I visited, pictured above, is medieval. So is the one at Chartes Cathedral (a diagram of which is pictured in this post, also about labyrinths). Within these two categories, there are a lot of variations–for example, the labyrinth above has seven circuits or layers (my term), but the one at Chartres has eleven.

Like the definition I mentioned earlier, the documentary I watched said that part of the mystery of the labyrinth is its meandering path, the meandering path being akin to a winding river. The idea is that often it can feel like you’re going nowhere fast. But just as a “straight” river would gather too much speed, it’s necessary for our lives to slow down every now and then so we can have time to think about our priorities and sort out the past. This was my “big idea” while walking the first labyrinth. There’s no hurry here. There’s really nowhere to go. One place is as good as the next.

Before I walked the labyrinths, I spent the day reading a book by Marsha Sinetar called Do What You Love, The Money Will Follow. It was delightful, encouraging. For anyone interested in the topic, the book offers a lot of handy tips for HOW to do what you love, which is to say, how to take care of yourself. One example the book gave was of a man who REALLY wanted to leave his marriage but didn’t have the courage, so his therapist (the author) suggested practicing by leaving coffee dates and social engagements when HE wanted to rather than sticking around until everyone else had gone, which was his habit. The idea is that often it’s helpful to do something SYMBOLIC to let your psyche know–Hey, this is important. We’re making ourselves a priority now.

As I understand it, labyrinths are symbolic too, representing–among other things–the passage of time, death and resurrection, and personal and spiritual growth. One of the suggestions for walking a labyrinth is to start with a “problem” in mind and see if an answer presents itself by the time you get to the center. So since I’d just read a book about doing what you love and having the money follow, that was my chosen topic at the second labyrinth I walked–money. Like, Where is it?

For this labyrinth, since it was made of sand, I walked barefoot. This was an experience in and of itself. Every step was different. Sometimes my feet hit soft ground, sometimes hard. Sometimes the ground was shaded, cool. Sometimes it was directly in the sun, hot. This is life, this is our finances. Some days are easier than others. Things are always changing.

At the center of this labyrinth, oddly enough, I found a penny. Immediately I thought of all my conversations with my therapist and the affirmation she always suggests regarding abundance–I always have more than I need. Indeed, in that moment, this affirmation was true–I had more than I needed. What would I do with a penny in the middle of a labyrinth? Hell, what would I do with a hundred dollars in the middle of a labyrinth? (Nothing.)

And then–as if to drive home the point–something unexpected happened.

I’d just started my way out of the labyrinth, and a woman, a total stranger, approached me. It turns out she goes to church there. Anyway, she was working in their nearby garden and came over to say hello. Then she said, “Would you like some fresh tomatoes?” Then when I said, “I’d love some fresh tomatoes,” she left me a whole pile of them. Talk about making my day.

I always have more than I need.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Being scared isn’t always an invitation to run away. More often than not, it’s an invitation to grow a pair and run toward.

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On Where You Are Anchored (Blog #845)

Leave a comment July 23, 2019 CoCo

Here’s something weird. A few days ago I went shopping and bought two new t-shirts. One of them, pictured above, has an anchor on it. I don’t know why I bought it. I used to have a necklace with an anchor on it, but I’m not particularly attracted to either anchors or sailing. I more of a landlubber. Still, I liked the shirt’s color and length, and it was the right price. Seven bucks. Can’t beat that. Well, I guess you can, since the other shirt I bought was two. But how often does THAT happen? Once in a blue moon.

Anyway, here’s the weird part. That night I started watching an online video series called Sacred Power with Caroline Myss. In the first episode she explained that each of us is quite literally an energetic being and that we all receive energy (or power) through the top of our heads, what’s often called the crown chakra in yoga. The she said that as a medical intuitive, which is essentially someone who can “read” someone else’s energy system, she could tell where a person was losing energy. When I blogged about this the other night I gave the example of my recently running into someone I didn’t want to see and how I felt like I was going to shit my pants. This means that on some level, at least for that moment, I’d given my energy or power away. If you imagined a human-shaped balloon filled with water and then imagined someone poking a big hole in that balloon’s stomach, that’s what I felt like.

Houston, we have a problem.

I realize I still haven’t told you the weird part. Hang on, I’m getting there. Caroline further explained that as a medical intuitive she gets pictures or images of where a person’s energy is “going” or who or what it’s “attached” to. For example, if you wake up every day worrying about money, pissed off at someone, or holding a grudge about something that happened to you thirty years ago, she’d get an impression of that. Strange, I know, but you can walk into a room and know when someone you love is hurt, angry, or confused before they even say a word. We’re all sensitive to energy. Caroline has simply (and finely) honed a skill we all have. Anyway, most of this information was old hat to me, but then Caroline said something I’d never heard her say before. (Remember I’d just bought that shirt.) She said, “I call these energy leaks ANCHORS.”

When I heard her say this, something clicked for me. What I mean is that I get the idea of leaking energy, a balloon that’s losing water. But an anchor paints a different picture. An energetic anchor means that you’re tied to something in the past, something outside of you that that’s holding you down and holding you back. That is, the more energetic anchors you have, the slower you move through life.

As if the synchronicity of this situation weren’t enough to think about and be amazed by, yesterday I taught a dance lesson, and one of my students (who used to be a music teacher) said she called the “one” (the first beat in a measure) the ANCHOR.

“That’s my word of the week,” I said, and we left it at that.

Then today I saw her husband (my chiropractor), and he referenced my comment yesterday and said, “I’d like you to read something,” an excerpt from the book The Energy Codes by Sue Morter. Essentially, the passage spoke about how we can project our energy outside of ourselves. We all do this, for example, when we fall in love or put someone on a pedestal. Quite literally, we give part of ourselves (or spirit) to that other person (or object, say, if you’re in love with or can’t part with–I don’t know–your favorite pair of shoes). Anyway, Sue suggests a process called “central channel breathing,” which Judith Blackstone (who wrote Trauma and the Unbound Body) also recommends. This involves breathing “from” three (Blackstone) or four (Morter) of your energy centers or chakras, which are located along your spine. For a brief explanation, click here. In my experience this type of breathing provides a sense of being CENTERED. Sue calls it being ANCHORED.

Tonight, in another synchronistic moment, my dad, without any previous explanation from me, commented on my shirt and said, “Are you anchored to yourself?”

“That’s the idea!” I said.

What I mean is that our bodies, souls, and spirits operate best when we are anchored INTERNALLY rather than EXTERNALLY. That is, YOUR energy belongs in YOUR body. But when you worry about anything, hold grudges, or project your emotions (verbally vomit, my therapist says) on someone else, you’re essentially investing your domestic energetic dollars in a foreign bank. This is why Jesus spoke so much of giving no thought for tomorrow and of forgiving others. Both worrying and refusing to “let go” anchor or tie you down to either the future or the past. Neither of which exist outside of the thoughts in your head, by the way. So better to be right here, right now, anchored within. Better to be free.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Abundance is a lot like gravity--it's everywhere.

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On Rituals (Blog #844)

Leave a comment July 22, 2019 CoCo

Today I finished a house sitting gig, so this morning I went through my last-day routine–wash the sheets, clean the dishes, put everything back in its place. Then this afternoon before leaving I took my bags (yes, I have multiple bags) one-by-one to my car, Tom Collins. This is honestly one of the only drags to living temporarily in other people’s houses. There’s a lot of stuff shuffling on the first and last days–bags of clothes, books, an exercise mat and foam roller, groceries. Gosh I’ve got a lot of shit. Fortunately, although it does take a while to load and unload all my stuff, I don’t have to go through TSA with any of it.

Now that would be a real nightmare.

This evening I taught a dance lesson to a new couple, then went to a local bookstore to read. I’d be good with doing this every day–sticking my nose in a psychology book. My current challenge is to not take everything I read so seriously. For example, if a self-help book suggests several exercises to try, I’m working on not seeing them as “required.” My therapist says I’m so hung up on completion. (True, and it’s getting better.) “But you could just choose one or two exercises to do,” she says. “Or not do any of them at all.”

There’s a novel thought.

This evening I picked up Subway for me and my parents, and ended up chatting with the girl who made our salads. I asked about her tattoos, and she told me she got one of them for her best friend who committed suicide. Wow, you never know what’s going on with someone. Also, it’s amazing what people will tell you if you show the slightest bit of interest.

After getting the salads, I ran to Walmart to pick up food for our family dog, Ella. While there I bought a two-dollar hairbrush. Y’all, I don’t think I’ve ever purchased a hairbrush before. Talk about confusing. There were so many options. Anyway, that’s not my point. My point is that since my hair has gotten long I’ve been using an old hairbrush I’ve had since–I don’t know–I was a teenager. Literally, it’s falling apart. And gross. Let’s not forget gross. But here’s the real deal–because I’ve been putting off buying a new one just to save a few bucks, every time I use the old one, I feel poor. Inevitably part of me thinks, This is all I’m worth. So as much as being helpful, the new brush is for me a symbol of I’m worthy of good things.

Things that work.

I’ve used this symbolic approach in a few areas of my life lately. For a while I’ve been losing socks or simply wearing them out. So earlier this week I started fresh–I bought a new pack. Then I went through my old ones and got rid of the ones that were gross or stretched out. At the same time, I threw away a few ratty shirts. What’s the point in keeping them? Again, they just make me feel like I’m–I don’t know–one of the kids in Oliver!

The word that’s been on my mind today is ritual. When I got home from Walmart tonight, I one-by-one unpacked my bags, hung up my clothes, and put everything in its place. While I did this, I threw out a few more things, rearranged my sock drawer. And whereas I’ll be packing things back up for another gig before the week is over, it feels really good now for everything to not be haphazard. As I understand it, this is what rituals (including how you get dressed in the morning and the way you go about eating a meal) do for us–they provide much-needed structure. They ground us.

Tonight my dance couple said they’d already been online looking for shoes. This is another ritual–buying new things when starting habits or hobbies–and it’s something we do intuitively. It’s a conscious, physical act that communicates to our unconscious, I’m serious about this. This would be my suggestion to anyone wanting to make progress in any area of your life–weight loss, writing, decluttering. Turn whatever it is into a ritual. You’ll be more likely to succeed. It’s why I blog every day, usually while I listen to the same music. It’s why I, on a regular basis, sort through my stuff and throw or give away what I no longer like or need. It’s not that I CAN’T hold on to things–there’s nothing inherently wrong with that–but I know that if you hold on to one thing in your life, you’ll hold on to other things in your life as well. So I want my entire system (body, soul, spirit) to get the message–We let go easily. We don’t cling. We’re worthy of new things, things that work.

Recently I told my therapist I’d dreamed I was on a toilet taking a shit. “Really?” she said. “Yeah,” I said, “I have a lot of bathroom dreams like that.”

“THAT’S VERY AUSPICIOUS!” she said.

Her point was just this. What do you do when you go to the bathroom? You get rid of toxicity–waste–that which is no longer useful to you. Shit is what’s left over after your body has garnered all the good it can from your food. So my dreaming about going to the bathroom means the same thing is happening in my unconscious–in my beneath-the-surface thoughts and emotions. That is, I’m getting rid of that which is no longer useful. I’m taking the good from my experiences and ditching the rest. (Bye, Felicia.) So in both my outer and inner worlds, I’m letting go. This isn’t a coincidence, since what’s happening outside usually mirrors what’s happening inside. Not that it’s always easy to see, of course. This is what a ritual helps with. It draws a clear line between two things that aren’t otherwise obviously connected. You let go of old clothes, you let go of old beliefs. You get your room in order, you get your mind in order.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Transformation doesn’t have a drive thru window. It takes time to be born again.

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Reality Isn’t Complicated (Blog #843)

Leave a comment July 21, 2019 CoCo

For the last week or more I’ve been go, go, going. Granted, you wouldn’t have known it had you been watching. What I mean is that I’ve been filling my days up with reading, turning one page after another. And whereas this may sound like a leisurely activity, it’s not for me. Because more than simply reading, I’ve been studying, learning, trying to cram as much knowledge into my brain as I can. And whereas I love all of this, it’s still work. Plus, the pressure I put on myself to do more, learn more is exhausting. Tonight I signed up for a free video streaming service (Kanopy) through my library and flagged 7 documentary series (each with about 24 episodes) that I’d like to, think I should, watch. But ugh. Who has time for all this information?

Seriously, it’s overwhelming.

In order to deal with this overwhelm, I did something today I rarely do–I spent the entire day with friends. First, my friends Aaron and Kate and their son and I went to lunch, then we came to where I’m house sitting so we could swim. Then our friends Justin and Ashley joined us. Then Aaron and Kate and their son left, and Justin and Ashley and I went to dinner. Anyway, it was the perfect thing. Being with friends. Soaking up some sun. Not being so damn serious for a change.

Balance.

At one point today I was playing with Aaron and Kate’s son in the pool, and–just like that–he slipped off his floaty and went under water. Sometimes life happens so fast. Well, just as quickly, I snatched him up with both hands. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Water was dripping off his face, but you could have heard a pin drop. Just for an instant. And then the response came–tears. Then coughing. Talk about overwhelming. For a while, Kate held him. Then Aaron held him. Then the two of them were back in the water, the boy laughing again, insisting on getting back on his floaty.

This evening I’ve thought a lot about this. Things happen in the blink of a an eye. In the last two years–just like that–I was rear-ended, I tore my ACL. Oddly enough these experiences weren’t scary. They just happened, and then they were over. Conversely, earlier this week I accidentally ran a red light and didn’t realize it until I was in the middle of the intersection. No one pulled out or even came close to hitting me–everyone just sat there–but my heart jumped up to my throat. My point is that so often it’s not the actual things that happen in our lives that scare us, but the things we imagine will happen, or imagine could have happened, that do. I can’t speak for my young friend, but I know that’s what scared me today about his going under water–after the fact I thought, That could have really been bad.

I say after the fact because in the moment, thankfully, I was present. One minute we were playing around, he was on the floaty, and the next minute he slipped under. I could see his body submerged in water, I knew he couldn’t swim, and I immediately reached for him. Byron Katie says that our bodies are full of wisdom. For example, you accidentally touch a hot stove, and your hand automatically moves away from the heat. You don’t have to think, The stove’s hot, I should move my hand. It just happens. That’s what snatching my young friend out of the water was like. Automatic. I didn’t have to think or worry about how to do it.

My point in all this is twofold. First, it’s that in the moment we’re always taken care of and we always know what to do. Granted, when I’m in the midst of worrying about my finances and not sure about what book to read next, it doesn’t always feel like this. But what’s the truth? I’m sitting in a chair and am reading the book I’m reading, so I do know what to do. The boy is under water, and he can’t swim–snatch him up. Reality isn’t complicated. Secondly, our fears are never about what’s happening right here, right now. Rather, they’re always about what could have happened, what might happen next. Byron Katie says, “If you want fear and terror on purpose, get a future.” That is, imagine what will occur even a millisecond from now. You can really scare yourself. But right here, right now? Things are always better than we think they are.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We’re all made of the same stuff.

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On Power and Empowerment (Blog #842)

Leave a comment July 20, 2019 CoCo

Last night after blogging I stayed up late and watched The Adjustment Bureau staring Matt Damon. (What a handsome fella.) The movie is about a politician (played by Damon) who unwittingly stumbles upon a group of angels (The Adjustment Bureau) who work to keep humanity “on plan.” I love this stuff, the idea that there’s more going on “down here” than what we can see, that there’s a great drama unfolding of which we get to play a part. I was absolutely riveted and completely amused.

Until three in the morning, that is, when I walked into the bedroom where I’m house sitting and my friend’s dog was on MY side of the bed.

“Scooter, SCOOT over,” I said.

Scooter snored.

So guess who moved sides?

Today has been absolutely marvelous. This morning I read The Adjustment Team by Philip K. Dick, which is the short story The Adjustment Bureau was based on. And whereas there were similarities, there were a lot of differences. For one thing, the short story was, well, short–just seventeen pages. For another, it didn’t involve a politician. Still, I’m fascinated by the fact that a short written over fifty years ago was the inspiration for a modern-day blockbuster movie. This the power of creativity. This is the power of words.

This afternoon I continued to read. First I finished the book I started yesterday, The Cry for Myth by Rollo May. Then I read the (short) play, The Devil and Daniel Webster by Stephen Vincent Benet (because May said it was a modern retelling of Faust). Then I read King, Warrior, Magician, Lover by Robert Moore, about four of the main archetypes (or patterns for thinking, feeling, and behaving) present in men. As most teacher of archetypes do, Moore points out that every archetype has a shadow side. For example, one shadow aspect of The King is The Tyrant. One shadow aspect of The Warrior is The Coward.

Speaking of coward, I just had to stop blogging to let Scooter outside. Never mind the fact that he has a DOGGIE DOOR! He’s just too afraid (at night) to use it. I mean, What’s on the other side?

This evening I ran some errands–bought some new socks, went grocery shopping. Then I came back home (my home for now, that is) and exercised while I watched/listened to a couple episodes of Sacred Power with Caroline Myss. Boy, that lady doesn’t pull any punches. If you’d like a dose of honesty (and who wouldn’t, really?), check her out. One of the exercises she suggested tonight was to notice–just notice–how much time you spend every day thinking about what anyone else may think of you (for any reason). Said another way, notice how easily or often you’re humiliated or embarrassed. Because whether it’s fifteen minutes or two hours a day, that’s fifteen minutes or two hours in which you’re losing energy, in which you’re losing power, that you don’t have to.

Personally, I’m really challenged by this. I can’t tell you the number of times each day I’m distracted by what someone else might think of me. I’m like Scooter–worried. How many likes did my last post get? That photo really wasn’t my best. Does these things really matter? No. I don’t know a single person who would say they do. And yet we all act like they do. We spend so much time finding that perfect selfie angle. You know, the one that hides our fat.

More and more, I’m seeing this not only as wasted time, but also–in Caroline’s terms–wasted energy, wasted power. This isn’t just an intellectual concept. When I’m really concerned about things that aren’t my business, I can feel it in my body. I get agitated, restless, tired. Not too long ago I saw someone I’d really prefer to never see again ever, and it was like my entire spirit got up and walked out of the room. I felt like I was going to shit on myself. Thankfully, I didn’t. Instead, I did my best to pull myself together, to call my spirit back. Hey, get back here. No one else is going to scare us off. We’re a Warrior, not a Coward.

Courage.

Courage, that’s something Scooter doesn’t have much of. Just a moment ago I had to get back out of my comfortable recliner to open the door for him–again. He kept pawing at the DOGGIE DOOR but wouldn’t actually use the fucking thing. So for a moment I lost my cool and was like, What the hell, man? Is it really all that complicated?

And before you say anything in his defense, the answer is no, it’s not. I saw him use it this afternoon.

Clearly, I’m not over it. I’m working on it. Nonetheless, this is a small example of one of the many ways in which a person can lose energy or power. That is, before Scooter took my side of the bed and before he refused to use HIS DOOR, I was perfectly happy. Peaceful. But then when he, oh, simply acted like himself (his owner told me he was a real wuss), I got in a tither and lost my peace. In terms of power, I lost my CONTROL. This is really the issue when we worry about what other people think of us or–on a grander scale–when we hold grudges and resentments over things that happened two weeks or two decades ago. Rather than US controlling our internal atmosphere, we make the CHOICE to let someone or something else control it. Tying everything back to archetypes, this means we act from our shadow or disempowered self rather than from our empowered self.

Is it easy to develop and act from our empowered self? No. It’s the journey of a lifetime.

Is it worth any and all effort it takes to do so?

Absolutely.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even a twisted tree grows tall and strong.

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On Anxiety, Myths, and Divine Timing (Blog #841)

Leave a comment July 19, 2019 CoCo

It’s eleven at night, and I just turned on my “blogging music.” This morning started off slowly–I slept in, ate breakfast, then read over a hundred fifty pages in The Cry for Myth by Rollo May. It’s fabulous, about the idea that life is inherently anxiety-inducing and that myths help us not only make sense of our world, but also alleviate that anxiety. Too much anxiety in your life? You need a different myth, a different viewpoint, a different psychological construct from which to see things.

A different set of glasses.

Honestly, I could have spent the entire day reading. I can’t tell you what a sense of accomplishment and joy I get when I finish an entire book in one day. Alas, this was not to be. For weeks I’ve been telling myself that I’d put down my books and finally do a few things–respond to emails, go to the bank and the post office, shit like that. Well, I finally did these things this afternoon. And whereas I started to give myself a hard time for not doing them sooner, I didn’t because recently I’ve been thinking about divine timing.

I’ll explain.

Byron Katie says that when you argue with reality, you lose–but only one hundred percent of the time. This means that if you think you SHOULD be running errands (and you aren’t) or that you SHOULD HAVE run errands sooner than you did, you’re going to experience stress. Why? Just one simple reason–it’s not the truth. The truth is you’re not running errands, or that you didn’t run them sooner than you did. This is what I mean by divine timing. Things happen when they happen. We can SHOULD and SHOULD HAVE all day long, but that just produces anxiety. This is the myth of I’m not doing things right, the myth of I did something wrong, and the myth of I’m a bad person, I’m a worm.

Going back to divine timing, I can’t tell you the number of times things have shown up in my life at just the right moment. For example, not too long ago I got an unexpected check for nearly three hundred dollars in the mail, the result of one of those silly class-action lawsuit postcards that I fill out now and then (and usually result in a check for $2.87). Well, that three hundred bucks totally saved my ass. The same thing happened over Christmas this last year when I needed to pay some bills but couldn’t work because of my knee injury. Someone bought a gift certificate for dance lessons. Of course, this miraculous timing doesn’t just apply to money. My therapist showed up at just the right time. Books and information continue to show up at just the right time.

One of my points here is–How do you know? That is, how do you know you should have said something or done something sooner–or that you should even do it at all (if you haven’t already)? Having been on the receiving end of multiple (hundreds of) perfectly timed kindnesses, it’s not a stretch for me to think that I can play a part in the producing end of perfectly timed kindnesses in someone else’s life. What I mean is that I can beat myself up for not sending a letter in the mail sooner, but maybe the person getting that letter didn’t NEED it sooner. Maybe they needed it LATER. Likewise, I can (and do) beat myself up for not working more on writing my book(s), but again, perhaps it’s just not time. How will I know it’s time to write my book(s)?

I’ll have my butt in a chair and will be writing them.

It’s that simple.

Gosh, we like to complicate things. I like to complicate things. And not that I’m encouraging procrastination or not listening to your inner nudges to act, but I am suggesting that most of our self-flagellation is just that–self-punishment. As if we won’t get things done unless we constantly berate ourselves. I’m not doing things right. I did something wrong. I’m a bad person, I’m a worm. Please, we need a new myth–the myth of I’m doing things just fine, the myth of I did something right (a lot of things right), the myth of I’m a good person, not a worm.

Living by a new myth, of course, is more than simply changing your perspective or putting on a new pair of glasses. For a myth to really make a difference in your life, you have to internalize it and you have to let it change you. May says, “We seem to think that we can be reborn without ever dying.” This means that our old personality structure must be completely torn up (or torn down) in order for a new one to be planted, take root, and grow. This is why Noah was in the Ark, Jonah was in the whale, and Christ was in the grave. Chaos always precedes order, darkness always precedes light, and death always precedes new life–and change always takes time. For me, this is where the myths are most helpful. Knowing that “destruction comes before creation,” rather than be filled with anxiety whenever my life is falling apart, I can be filled with hope. I think, It’s just a matter of time before things start coming together.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"We all have inner wisdom. We all have true north."

Our Burdens Fall Away (Blog #840)

Leave a comment July 18, 2019 CoCo

It’s ten-thirty at night, and I’m plum tuckered out. Last night I stayed up reading a theory about the mathematics of creation and got so excited thinking about it that it was three in the morning before I finally wound down. (I’m a nerd, I know. But an even bigger nerd had to write the theory, so there’s that.) Then this morning I got up early to help a friend move. But then the stars didn’t align, and they postposed. Well hell, I was already awake, so I made breakfast and did more reading. Then I exercised and read some more. Seriously, y’all, have you tried reading?

It’s great.

What really made me tired, however, was not turning pages. True, I’m a delicate flower, but not THAT delicate. No, what wore me out was mowing. Recently I picked up a couple lawn care gigs and did them both this afternoon. Mowed and weedeated. Maybe this was a mistake, tackling both jobs in one (very hot) day. My lower back sure seemed to think so. Oh well, it’s over now, and I have the entire weekend to recover. This was my logic in working so hard today, that I’d have more time later to relax.

And by relax I mean read.

Recently I finished a book called Rules for the Dance by Mary Oliver, about how to read and write poetry. It’s stunning. For anyone who loves words, whether you’re into poetry or not, I recommend it. Anyway, one of the notes I took from the book was about ballads, which are a particular type of poem and–often–set to music. Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers, for instance. Anyway, if in a ballad there’s a line that repeats itself at the end of every stanza, that’s called a refrain. The line “I can’t help falling in love with you” in Elvis Presley’s song Can’t Help Falling in Love is a good example.

Okay, heres’ the part that interests me–the refrain is sometimes referred to as the burden.

I’ll explain.

Recently I had someone say something that was intended as a joke but hit a nerve with me. A small nerve, mind you, but a nerve nonetheless. And whereas I had a chance to say something about it, I decided to let it go. My therapist says, “You can’t confront all day every day–well, you could because people are full of bad behavior, but that would be exhausting.” My point is that having decided to not say anything about the matter, I was left with it in my head. So for the better part of a day I mentally replayed (repeated) the situation, imagining different outcomes.

I’ve done this so many times with so many different things it’s not even funny. Talk about wearing yourself out. Byron Katie says , “Who is more hurtful: the person who wronged you once or you for reliving it over and over in your head?” I hate this, but whenever I ask myself this question, I always have to answer–I am more hurtful. This is what I mean by the refrain being a burden. People say rude things. They cut us off in traffic. Even worse. In an instant, it’s done with. And yet we rewind and repeat the very worst in our lives. In so doing, we refuse to let the moment pass. Instead, we hold on–we hold grudges.

We punish ourselves.

Eckhart Tolle has a book called The Power of Now, which–if I recall correctly–is largely about the healing power of the present moment. For example, right now it’s quiet. There’s just a faint hum of a florescent light and the clack of my keyboard. I’m tired and my body hurts somewhat, but all the grass and dirt from this afternoon have since been washed away, and even the blisters on my hands have begun to repair themselves. And whereas I could sit here and imagine all sorts of both mildly irritating and actually horrific things that have happened in my past, the fact is that they now only exist in my memory. This is what’s beautiful about this present moment. Every horrific thing is over. Right here, right now, if we don’t repeat them, our burdens fall away. Right here, right now, we begin to heal. Right here, right now, there is grace for us.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Go easier on yourself.

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On Following Your Bliss (Blog #839)

Leave a comment July 17, 2019 CoCo

Yesterday I spoke about the feeling of delight, and today has been delightful. Not that it’s been ALL that different from most of my days on the outside, but there’s been a certain quality about it that’s made it different on the inside.

I’ll do my best to explain.

This morning I made breakfast and got around slowly. Then a couple hours later I made a snack and took it outside to eat. Then because the sun felt so nice, I lay outside and read a book. And whereas I think I overdid it (my stomach is currently medium rare), it felt fabulous. Then a friend of mine asked me to help her install an air conditioning window unit, so I did that. I love a good project. Plus, another friend was there to help, and since they’d installed several window units before, I ended up learning something. I love learning.

Lately my therapist and I have been talking a lot about money. I’ve said before that I have a lot of gross feelings about money, largely due to the fact that I had to be responsible for my family’s finances as a teenager. And although it’s taken me, oh, twenty years to identify how I felt about that, I can now say that it was extremely overwhelming. Anyway, I’ve made a lot of progress in this area. There are several areas in my life that I’m super neutral about. For example, my romantic life. I think, Whatever happens, happens. I don’t have time for bullshit. Well, my therapist says I can take this same attitude–laid back–and apply it to money. “Something ALWAYS comes along for you,” she says. “Chill out.”

Well, damn if she hasn’t been right (again). First there was that air conditioner work today, then I picked up a yard-mowing gig this evening. And not that I’m sitting pretty or anything, but everything helps. Plus, I’ve told the universe that I really am willing to work doing almost anything so long as it affords me the time to continue to do what I love–read and write. Apparently it’s listening. Things keep showing up–house sitting gigs, odd jobs, dance lessons–and I haven’t even advertised. Other than talking about my life and random jobs here on the blog, I haven’t tried to drum up business even once.

I keep going back to Joseph Campbell’s quote (that I’ve mentioned several times here before)–“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” This means that as we listen to our heart, we’re helped by “unseen hands.” (If you’re not listening to your heart, I don’t know what to tell you.) When we’ve talked about what writing project I want to tackle next, my therapist says, “Follow the energy–do the thing that excites you the most.”

I started to say, “Listen to you heart and do The Hard Work” because listening to your heart, as lovely as it sounds, is tough stuff. That is, rarely is anyone else going to encourage you to do what YOU want to do, since everyone else wants you to do what THEY want you to do. Think about it. It’s human nature. A while back I did some work, and my gut told me it was worth a certain price. Well, the client initially offered slightly less. What the big deal? you might say. But I knew that I’d feel like I’d compromised myself if I didn’t at least ask. So I did, and they said yes. This is a small example, but my point is that following your inner guidance isn’t just about becoming a writer, or whatever it is you want to do professionally. If you’re going to listen to your truth, you’ve got to listen to it across the board.

In all situations.

Not to beat a dead horse, but I can’t count the number of times in the last several years when following my bliss has looked like putting a friendship on hiatus, saying no to bad behavior from lovers or potential lovers, and even confronting my loved ones. Again, the idea here is that if you want the universe to start opening doors for you, you have to be willing to do your part, which may include shutting a few windows. At the very least, you have to be willing to walk a different path, and that means being able to say no when necessary. It means being willing to go against the grain and withstand criticism. I can’t tell you the number of times people have told me, “You should go to college. You’re gonna have to get a real job one day.”

“Fuck that shit,” my therapist say. “That’s their problem.”

Not that I’m advocating dumb or negligent behavior. Only you get to decide what’s best for you, and I can only speak to my specific life. All I know is that since I was in high school, it’s never felt deep-down right to “just get a degree” or be like everybody else. Rather, since then I’ve had a deep-down dream to be a writer and do things associated with writing. Some people may say this is a pie-in-the-sky idea, and I get it. It’s hard to make it as a writer. But more and more I KNOW. This is what I came here to do. If I have to do random odd jobs until it “happens,” so be it.

I’m willing to pay the price.

What’s more, I know that my day-to-day happiness doesn’t depend on what’s happening out there.

It depends on what’s happening in here.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

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Snap! The Job’s a Game (Blog #838)

Leave a comment July 16, 2019 CoCo

This morning I watched a (ten minute) video by intuitive Robert Ohotto in which he suggested something he calls the I Don’t Give a Shit (IDGAS) Detox. The basic concept is that for a week or two you stop giving a shit about whatever it is you give a shit about. If you want to take it a step further, you write down your reactions to not giving a shit. Like, That felt nice to not give a shit about what other people think about my hair, or Maybe I should have given a shit about that noise my car was making–because now it’s broken down on the side of the road. As I understand it, the IDGAS Detox is designed to alert you to how you spend your mental and emotional energy.

Which, incidentally, you only have so much of.

I’ve thought about this a lot today, about not giving a shit. And whereas I’ll spare you all the specific incidents to which I’ve applied the wisdom of IDGAS–or, truth be told, IDGAF–I will include a short list of things I think we could all care less about. Here we go–what’s happening on Facebook, what anyone else is doing (period), whether or not someone else calls or texts you back, what other people think about anything about you, how you compare to others, and (take this one however you like) whether or not you can still get into the same pants you could in high school.

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

As I’ve thought about these things today I’ve realized I spend a lot of time worrying or being concerned about things that really don’t matter. And not that any of this is unusual or directly harmful, but it does affect exactly how much joy I experience from moment to moment, and all that adds up. Robert suggests the IDGAS Detox if you’re feeling exhausted, and I think that’s his point. If you’re getting enough sleep every night and still find yourself tired, it may be because you’re wearing yourself out with all your mental gymnastics. The ones that sound like, Everyone else has it better than I do. They’re so much richer, smarter, and more talented than I am. Or vice versa.

Give it a rest, Nancy.

Give it an IDGAS rest.

This afternoon I saw a chiropractor, a friend of mine, who uses a lot of unconventional (weird) techniques. I’m all about this sort of thing, the mind-body connection. Hell, I’m all about whatever works. My neck and shoulder have been bothering me for over six months now, so at this point I’ll try anything. Well, get this shit. When I walked in the majority of my back was, in his terms, “locked up.” In my terms, it was tense and inflexible. Thirty minutes later, it was much, much better. It was like something had let go. The best part? My friend didn’t have to crack or twist anything or do anything dramatic. Rather–and this is the weird part–he communicated with my unconscious (through muscle testing) to find out WHY my body was so uptight.

Like, “What’s your deal, Lucille?”

One of the tenants of this approach is that for each physical problem, there will be a mental/emotional component. In other words, in most cases, our bodily aches and pains don’t come out of nowhere. And whereas for me it’s tempting to think my neck and shoulder pain have to do strictly with my car accident two years ago and the fact that I’ve been doing a lot of manual labor lately, that’s a bit like thinking an appleseed can flourish into a full-grown apple tree by simply sitting on your coffee table. Of course it can’t. It needs dirt, water, and sunshine. What I’m saying is that for a physical problem to manifest (turn from a seed to a tree) in your body, it needs a particular environment in which to do so. Simply put, your thoughts and emotions are a huge part of that environment.

The good news about this: if you change the environment, you change what’s able to grow there.

According to my friend (and my unconscious), the emotion that’s related to my neck and shoulder pain is jealousy. “It’s probably not a romantic jealousy,” my friend said. Now, maybe this sounds like a bunch of crap. If so, that’s okay. I’ve thought so in similar situations in the past. But today I couldn’t truthfully say, “WHO ME? Jealous?” So instead I said, “I know exactly what kind of jealousy it is–it’s professional. It’s the thought that other people are succeeding at what they want to do and I’m not.”

“So it’s not really about all that manual labor,” my friend said.

“Well, that plays in because I don’t deep-down want to be doing all that manual labor,” I said. “I want to make the money, but I’d rather make it doing something I love.”

This wanting/not wanting, of course, is a recipe for tension both internally and externally.

With my friend’s approach, for each negative emotion that comes up, there’s also a positive one to balance it out or help remedy the situation. In my case, that emotion was delight. As an exercise, you could think jealous thoughts for a minute and see how that feels, then think thoughts of delight and see how that feels. For me, delight feels one hundred times better. When I think of things that delight me, I feel less constriction and more expansion. Freer. This is what I’ve been trying to do since this afternoon. Outwardly the rest of my day was typical–I read a book, mowed my parents’ lawn, took a shower, and began writing. But rather than adopting an attitude of pressure or obligation, I adopted one of fun and enjoyment. One of delight.

As Mary Poppins says, “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun, and–snap!–the job’s a game.”

Getting back to the IDGAS Detox, I think it’s an excellent tool to use for transforming a negative emotion into a positive one. For example, whenever I’ve been tempted this afternoon and evening to be jealous of another person’s body, work, or body of work, I’ve thought, I don’t give a shit what anyone else is doing. Likewise, I’ve thought, I don’t give a shit if I read as much today as I did yesterday. I don’t give a shit if I mow the lawn perfectly. Consequently, I’ve experienced more joy. (There, that wasn’t so hard.) At the same time–and this is the real gem–I’ve freed up a good bit of mental/emotional energy that, rather than using on things I don’t like, I can now use on things I do. Because I DO give a shit about writing, I DO give a shit about dancing, and I DO give a shit about reaching my highest potential, and these things require A LOT of energy.

My final thought about all this is that when pirate ships are caught in a storm and are “going down,” the crew throws everything overboard that isn’t absolutely necessary–cargo, supplies, anyone who’s not pulling their weight. (Sorry, Petey.) Free of the extra baggage, the ship can now stay afloat. After the storm passes, it can even sail quicker than it did before. This is what discarding negative thoughts and emotions can do for you. This is what discarding negative relationships–with friends, technology, and even your own body–can do for you. It can lighten you up. It can get you to where you’re going faster.

It can turn a job into a game.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"That love inside that shows up as joy or enthusiasm is your authentic self."