I Meant to Do That! (Blog #837)

Photo by Virgilia Dale. Thanks, V!

This morning I saw my therapist and read her yesterday’s blog, about childhood memories. I don’t do this very often, maybe once every couple months, if I’d like her opinion on something or it seems relevant. For example, on our last therapy-iversary, I read her my post about why me and my therapist are successful. It was my way of saying, “Thank you.” (I also brought cookies.) Anyway, I read last night’s blog because, as I told her, “I cried when I wrote it and am hoping I can cry again.”

“Go for it,” she said. “Get the poison out of your water.”

Then she added, “I like how you’ve been crying more lately.”

Well, sure enough, it worked. I cried more when I read the post to her than when I wrote the damn thing. I guess there’s something about my therapist’s presence. It’s like I know I can say anything, be completely me in the moment, and that’s going to be okay. Never once in five years have I felt judged. Not that I’ve always been agreed with–far from it–but I’ve never felt judged. Instead, no matter if I’ve been angry, sad, depressed, irate, confused, lethargic, disappointed, hurt, or horny–I’ve felt totally accepted. And I guess that’s been one of the big gifts this blog has given me too–acceptance.

Self-acceptance.

I imagine this is why certain posts make me cry. Like last night’s, they’re usually the ones that have something to do with my childhood. The way I see it, I probably needed to cry (and yell and scream) back then but just didn’t know how. Consequently, it’s like some part of me got asked to sit down and shut up indefinitely. But here’s the thing about writing if you do it correctly–you bring your whole self to it. This means that when you’re being creative all the parts of yourself that have previously been silenced can potentially speak up. They may cry and they may to tell people to fuck off. If you’re smart, you’ll listen. This is what self-acceptance is–not letting every part of you run the show, but letting every part of you be heard.

The above picture of me at a lemonade stand showed up in my Facebook memories today. For a while my dance studio was in the same building as a photographer, and the lemonade stand was one of her props. Anyway, this picture always makes me think of that overused saying–when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Along these lines, there’s this quote from Joseph Campbell–“To transform you hell into a paradise is to turn your fall into a voluntary act. Joyfully participate in the sorrows of the world and everything changes.” To me this means not so much that you make the best of a bad situation, but that on some level you actually choose the bad situation.

I’ll explain.

There’s an idea in the self-help world that you’re happy not when you have what you want, but rather when you want what you have. Think about it. We usually associate wanting with things we don’t have, but if you were to–in this moment–look at everything in your life and say, “I want this,” you’d immediately experience a sense of contentment. For me this would look like saying, “I want to weigh 190 (ish) pounds. I want to be single. I want to be living at home with my parents and experiencing a headache.”

Good news! I am.

Applied to one’s past, all of this means that rather than labeling your difficult circumstances as bullshit or something that never should have happened, you look at them and say, “That was exactly what I needed.” This is what Campbell means when he says, “Turn your fall into a voluntary act.” Children do this all the time. They trip on their shoelaces, hit the concrete, and scab their knees then immediately look at their friends and say, “I MEANT to do that!” In keeping with my previous discussion about last night’s blog about childhood memories and specifically the fact that my family’s home burned down when I was four, this means that yes, I cry or scream about it when I need to, but I refuse to let myself be bitter about the situation. Instead I think, That helped make me who I am today. And I like who I am today.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our burdens are lighter when we share them.

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Now Green Grass Grows (Blog #836)

I’ve spent today reading three different books online–The Kingdom Within: The Inner Meaning of Jesus’ Sayings by John A. Sanford, Cathedral by David Macauley (about gothic architecture), and What Your Childhood Memories Say about You by Dr. Kevin Leman. And whereas I love reading and learning, after several hours of this my eyeballs felt like they were going to fall out of my head and roll around on the floor, so I shut my laptop and went for a walk.

While strolling, I thought about the book I’d just been reading, about childhood memories. The author of the book contends that we form how we see ourselves and the world around us basically by the age of eight and that our early memories can clue us in to not only who we are and what we believe, but also why. Anyway, I started scanning my memory banks and came up with several instances when I felt excited about learning or figuring things out, as well as several instances when I felt afraid or embarrassed. This is important, the book says–if it’s really a formative memory, there will be an emotion attached to it.

Because I’m currently tired and would like to keep this short, I don’t intend to go into my specific memories. Plus, I’ve already discussed a number of “the biggies” here before. What I will say, however, is that although I haven’t finished reading the book, I already agree with its premise. Those emotions I just mentioned–excitement (about learning or figuring things out), fear, and embarrassment–continue to motivate nearly everything I do.

Here’s one way to think about all this. While walking tonight in downtown Van Buren, I stopped by what’s left of what used to be my family’s home, which burned down when I was four. The building itself has since been cleared, and there’s a park. Still, one brick wall remains, and even after thirty-five years, you can still see black smudges all along it. What I mean is that simply because something happened forever ago (when you were a child) doesn’t mean it can’t leave a long-lasting and permanent impression.

For me, the impression that the fire left was Something bad is going to happen. It really was a horrific night. Although my family was spared, nine people died in that fire, along with many of my stuffed animals. The next thing I knew, I was sleeping at a friend’s house, being given someone else’s toys to play with. Another emotion that comes up in a lot of my early memories is confusion, and perhaps the fire is where that feeling started. How confusing for a four-year-old to one day be living in a newly built three-story home and the next day be living on his friend’s pullout couch.

Because our home that burned really was lovely and then it was all gone, I think another impression the fire left was Good things get taken away. This is a belief that’s been reinforced for me a number of times–when Dad went to prison, when our new cars got repossessed. When all that happened, in my teens, both me and my family started getting more hand-me-downs. When I graduated high school, a family I deeply love gave me a car. And whereas it did the job and it was mine(!) for a few years, it was in rough shape. So, without meaning to, I guess I developed a spinoff belief of Good things get taken away–that I’m only worth second-rate things. Used things. Things nobody else would want.

This isn’t easy to talk about it. I don’t like the fact that something, a number somethings, that happened so long ago continue to influence my attitudes and behaviors even today. And yet they do. They continue to have sway over my platonic and romantic relationships (like, I don’t deserve the best), my relationship with money, how I think about healing, and even how I go for a walk. Because when you believe Something bad is going to happen, it’s difficult to ever relax. When you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, it’s hard to let your guard down.

The good news is that all of this is getting better. All of this is better than it used to be. For me, a lot of healing has come through writing and this blog, through simply stating the facts–I was scared when I saw the smoke that night, I was embarrassed my Dad went to prison, and I was embarrassed I couldn’t afford my own car. As I understand it, something magical happens when you can, with compassion, be a witness to your own life. Also, for me it’s been important to really grasp how much my difficult childhood experiences laid the groundwork for my personality, a personalty that although it experiences a great deal of fear and embarrassment, also experiences a great deal of inner fortitude and determination to overcome. I wouldn’t trade these positive qualities for the world. This is how life works. Whenever it takes something away from you, it gives you the opportunity to cultivate something better in return.

At the spot where our house once burned down, just next to that smoke-stained wall, now green grass grows.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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

On Endurance (Blog #835)

It’s Saturday, and this morning, again, I woke up with sinus junk. This has been going on for two weeks now. Color me not amused. That being said, since I haven’t been every-day sick for the last two weeks, I know my body is trying. Indeed, some days I’ve woken up and felt almost normal (whatever that is). So I continue to ingest different probiotics and fermented foods (kimchi) in hopes that I’ll once again find the magic formula that literally clears things up. But in the meantime and for the record, this back-and-forth isn’t fun for me. Pick a lane, body!

The feeling-fine lane, that is.

In an effort to be productive, this afternoon I attempted to install a utility sink at a friend’s art studio. I say attempted because before I could make much progress, I knocked over an open quart of pink paint and made an absolute mess. As if that weren’t enough, I didn’t notice the mess until I stepped in it and nearly went into the splits as one of my legs went one direction and the other went the other. Color me terrified. All I could think about was my recently operated-on knee. Praise the lord, I was fine. And after about thirty minutes of cleaning up paint, so was (most of) the floor.

Here’s a picture of the spot where I almost became a unich.

Curse words were said.

Here’s a before picture of the sink installation. I guess a cabinet used to be there but was ripped out. The tank is the hot water heater.

Thankfully, getting the sink assembled and connected went fine. I often get overwhelmed by projects like this because no two jobs are ever the same, but it was just a matter of going step-by-step. Now, granted, the box the sink came in said, “Everything you need is included!” but the instructions on the inside of the box said, “Anchor the sink to the floor with concrete bolts (NOT INCLUDED).” So that sucked. Plus, I had to go to the hardware store to get a longer supply line, since I turned the sink sideways and one of the lines wouldn’t reach. But whatever, we figure things out.

Here’s the final product.

At one point while working today, I noticed a blob of pink paint on my leg, a spot I’d missed earlier. Getting up off the floor and making my way to the bathroom sink, everything hurt–my head, my back, my ankle. And not that these things individually were unbearable, but on top of my sinus infection and a number of other life problems I’m facing at the moment, it was all too much. Mostly because I really have been working hard lately (these last few years) to be healthy and get some of this stuff figured out. And I really do believe the body is capable of healing itself. My general take on the body, healing, and even life itself is, “Everything you need is included!” And yet some days it feels like I’m missing something, like I’m doing something wrong.

You can do this.

There’s an idea that a big part of the spiritual journey is learning endurance. I think about this a lot, that before I was born I probably made the mistake of asking the gods for patience, maybe even compassion for those who suffer. I say mistake because there’s only one way to learn these things. You have to be continually frustrated. You have to go through hell and survive. Only then can your character truly be refined or changed. Only then can you learn to surrender, learn to trust. Only then can you look at someone else who’s suffering and honestly say, “Sweetheart, I know this sucks, but you can do this.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Things are only important because we think they are.

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How to Change the World (Blog #834)

Yesterday I started reading a book about dream interpretation and active imagination, active imagination being a technique you can use to dialogue with various parts of your unconscious. For example, you could dialogue with the part of you that’s depressed, angry, or lazy. Or the part of you that doesn’t want to lose weight (and probably has a good reason for that) even though you do want to (or rather, your ego or personality does). The basic idea is that you get quiet and still, then ask your unconscious to present an image or symbol that represents that energy pattern in your life. I’d like to talk to the part of me that’s resentful. Then you see who or what shows up and you have a conversation with it, with yourself.

As I spent most of today continuing to read the book I started yesterday, I tried this active imagination exercise earlier this evening with several different parts of myself, including my resentful part. Y’all, it was fascinating. It presented itself as a poor, newsie-type boy with bad grammar. “Whadayawant?” it said.

“I’d like to hear what you have to say,” I replied.

“Oh yeah, you ain’t been so interested before,” it said.

“Well, I’d like to try again,” I said.

I’ll spare you the rest of the conversation, but this is an important point in active imagination or talking to your internal parts–because they’ve been so frequently ignored, they often won’t want to chat. So you have to let them know you’re serious about (re)establishing a relationship with them. Sweetheart, I’m here for you. In the case of my inner resentful kid, he ended up saying that I give him a lot of crap for not knowing enough, not knowing enough being an internal attitude of mine that manifests itself as my cramming book after book into my brain and always having to learn. “You must think I’m a real dope,” he said. Later he said that it wasn’t that he was against learning, but he’d really like to have a break now and then. “Maybe you could just sit around and chew on a toothpick,” he said.

I realize this may sound like a bunch of crap, but it’s something that hit home for me. Lately I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself to produce, stay busy, learn more, and even heal. Because my outer life doesn’t look like I want it to, I feel like I’ve got to DO something about it. And whereas this may be true, going nonstop is exhausting. But when I think of that kid I dialogued with this evening, I picture someone free in his body and world. A kid who’d just assume lie around or play baseball than read a book or LEARN. Honestly, that sounds nice. I could use more of that–relaxation.

One of the book’s points is that when your unconscious gives you information (in a dream or via active imagination) it’s not enough to think about or even interpret that information–you need to do something with it. For example, after my inner resentful kid told me I could be a real stick in the mud, I went for a walk and–according to his suggestion–didn’t listen to an informational podcast along the way. Last night I dreamed I drank pickle juice, which I associate with being sour but also full of electrolytes (energy). And whereas I’m still chewing on the meaning, I’m thinking it has to do with the idea that although some of my current experiences are sour, they’re giving me energy for what’s to come. Anyway, the point is that in order to HONOR the dream, I drank some pickle juice for breakfast.

This idea, that you need to do something with the knowledge your unconscious gives you, seems to be true across the board. For example, recently I got a text message that fundamentally bothered me. Essentially it was from someone I really don’t know that well who wanted a favor. Well, this has happened a number of times before, and although it’s always bothered me, I just ignored it, which is to say I ignored the part of myself that was bothered. However, when it happened this time, I dealt with it directly. I said no. And whereas my answer was well-received, that’s not the point. The point is that when your unconscious or even your intuition gives you information, it’s usually asking you to take an action. To further illustrate the point, there were a lot of insights about my relationships I had in therapy that never really “sunk in” until I had the balls to have difficult conversations and–in some cases–set boundaries.

Granted, my therapist says that you don’t have to take action EVERY time you’re alerted to a problem or a situation. “The important thing is to see things for what they are,” she told me once when someone I knew had said something shitty to me. In that case, I acknowledged their behavior for what it was and let it slide. Still, I had fantasies of telling that person off and ultimately wasn’t satisfied until I said SOMETHING to them.

For the record, I didn’t tell them off; I was simply honest. I think this is shitty. This is another point the book I’m reading makes–that our dreams and fantasies are often extreme because they need to get our attention. Last night after the pickle juice dream I dreamed that I was yelling at someone who wouldn’t let me have fun with my friends or, later, be by myself. “FUCK OFF!” I said. And whereas I think the interpretation of this dream goes back to my needing to go easier on myself and take a break now and then, the point remains the same–my unconscious isn’t asking that I start aggressively telling other people, or even my inner task master, to fuck off. Rather, it’s simply trying to alert me to the fact that a previously ignored part of me would like to be heard, would like to be considered.

Start by accepting every part of yourself.

For quite a while now, there’s been a (small) idea floating around the globe about equality–equal rights for women, for all races, for all sexualities. Along these lines, there’s also the idea that everyone deserves to have a voice. And whereas sometimes when I look at the flapdoodle people say and share on social media, I fundamentally agree with this–the right to free speech. Also, and I realize I’m not the first to do so, I’d like to propose that equality and freedom of speech start at home, inside of you. What I mean is that if there’s any part of you that’s angry, resentful, sad, depressed or anything else, and you’re unwilling to listen to, hear, or consider it, then I guarantee that you’ll be unwilling to listen to, hear, or consider something or someone outside of you as well. Conversely, the more you open up to the variety of voices inside of you, the more you’ll open up the variety of voices outside of you. Want everyone in the world to be accepted? Start by accepting every part of yourself. This isn’t easy, of course, but it’s how you truly change the world. You change YOUR world.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We may never be done, but that doesn't mean we'll never be complete. And surely we are complete right here, right now, and surely there is space enough for the full moon, for you and for me, and all our possibilities.

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This Powerful Ocean (Blog #833)

Hum. Since waking up this morning, I’ve felt generally blah. Mostly, I think, because of my sinuses and the fact that I didn’t get much sleep last night. I stayed up visiting friends, then got up early to have a nick in my windshield repaired. Apparently they don’t repair well during the heat of the day. Ugh, today was the day of spending money, first on the windshield, then on new brake pads. And whereas neither of these things was TOO expensive, the mechanic who replaced my brake pads said, “Crap. One of your struts is leaking. But don’t worry–I can fix it for $420.”

I can’t tell you how much I hate this news.

The last time I talked to my therapist about my financial concerns, she said, “I know it feels like you’re taking one step forward just to take two steps back, but hang in there. I’ve been exactly where you are and I promise–it won’t always be this way.”

This is my new mantra. It won’t always be this way.

In the past when I’ve been overwhelmed by money or anything else, my therapist has suggested self-care–crying, spending time with friends, anything I can do to let go and relax. So this evening, for the first time in a long time, I laced up my tennis shoes and went for walk. And whereas it didn’t solve any of my immediate problems, it did feel good to move. Hell, I even skipped part of the way. Might as well do some knee rehab, I thought. Also, although I didn’t cry, I did have one tender moment when I passed a particular evergreen tree that reminded me of several from my childhood. They were all in a row on the playground of the school I attended in first and second grade, and I remember crawling in between them to read a book or hide during hide-and-seek. Memories like this one always get me, I guess because they remind me of a time when I felt free.

This evening I started reading a book called Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth by Robert A. Johnson. I’m only about fifty pages in, but so far I’m riveted. The book quotes Jung, stating that our personality (our ego) is like a cork floating in the ocean, and our unconscious is the ocean. In other words, you’re probably not aware of the vast majority of you. The good news, the book says, is that our unconscious self daily makes an effort to communicate with our conscious self and give it information it needs. Through dreams, for example, which use SYMBOLS to convey important information that we’re not aware of in our waking state.

Several times before I’ve mentioned Internal Family Systems, a psychological model that sees each of us as made up of different parts, like the Inner Critic, the Inner Child, and others. Well, Johnson says the same thing, that our unconscious is made up of different energetic patterns (thoughts, emotions, beliefs) or personalities, and that it’s these patterns or personalties that clothe themselves in the images (or symbols) of our dreams. This is why if you dream about someone you think is a real bitch (or, on the other hand, a real class act), the dream isn’t about that honest-to-god person. Rather, it’s about the real bitch in you, the real class act in you.

Another point the book makes is that if you don’t learn to work with your unconscious consciously, it’s still going to reveal itself to you–through “psychosomatic symptoms, compulsions, depressions, and neuroses.” In other words, you’d better learn how to swim or you’ll end up drowning in your own ocean.

I said recently that there’s a theory that our needs (problems, challenges) arise because something bigger than our needs is wanting to emerge from within us. Along these lines, I’m encouraged by the idea of having an unconscious that’s so much bigger than my conscious personality. Granted, my conscious personality is what I’m used to. Hi, I’m Marcus. I teach dance. I’m a nice guy, a damn fine fella. Still, my conscious personalty doesn’t have the answers to a lot of my problems. Indeed, it worries about money and gets in quite the twist when things don’t go its way. So I’m really coming around to this idea of the unconscious, this powerful ocean inside of me, this powerful ocean that is me, full of answers and resources and–above all else–free.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our struggles unearth our strengths.

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The Best Way to Heal (Blog #832)

Earlier today I started a new 1,000-piece puzzle–a Van Gogh painting. I’m almost done with the border. While working on the puzzle, I listened to a lecture about healing trauma by a hypnotherapist (Isa Gucciardi) in California. One of her contentions was that our symptoms (addictions, relationship issues, and even some physical symptoms) are our teachers, that if listened to can lead us to the heart of our problems.

For example, one woman who couldn’t (and didn’t really want to) quit smoking knew that she used smoking as a form of escape. Her life was busy–she had a bunch of kids–and smoking gave her a break and acted as a boundary that kept others away. What she realized in hypnosis, however, was that her desire for both escape and boundaries began when she was molested as a child. One man realized in hypnosis that he used chewing tobacco as a way to “be quiet,” a message he’d gotten as a teenager from his mother. For both people, once their root issue was recognized with compassion, they were able to give up their addiction (or symptom).

Based on everything I’ve read and studied, compassion for every part of yourself is a huge component in healing. There’s an idea in shamanism that when we experience trauma (which we all do and can take the form of something dramatic and physical or seemingly ordinary and psychological), parts of our soul splinter off because they can’t take the stress. Like, Deuces! However, thankfully, the can be coaxed back into the fold–with compassion. By listening to their story of what they went through (what YOU went through) and assuring them that you’ll take care of them (of yourself) from now on, they’ll gladly integrate.

This was a point the hypnotherapist made, that there isn’t a part of your personality or soul that doesn’t want to integrate. According to Jung, wholeness is the goal. Not because anyone can truly put Humpty Dumpty (all your broken pieces) back together again, but because the deepest, most true part of you, your soul, isn’t capable of being broken in the first place. In other words, that’s a part of you that’s ALREADY WHOLE and that knows how to heal, that knows how to gather up all your scattered pieces and get them working together again.

This, it seems, is the journey of a lifetime. Also, like the putting together of a puzzle, it’s apparently something that can’t be rushed. Personally, I get really eager for projects (including myself if I can rightfully refer to myself as a project) to be completed. I think, Let’s heal–today! Let’s solve all our issues this afternoon. But my therapist says I or anyone else would go nuts if their subconscious unleashed all its secrets at once. “You’d crack up,” she says. And so it seems that the best way to heal is a little bit here, a little bit there. One piece at at time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perfection is ever-elusive.

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On Breaking Through (Blog #831)

Today has worn me out. This morning I woke up with (more) sinus junk. Then, after getting a good report from my knee surgeon (keep doing what I’m doing, things will continue to heal), I found out my insurance didn’t cover one of my physical therapy appointments (it’s a long story), so–no big deal–I owe about three hundred dollars. Ugh. I hate unexpected expenses, especially on a week like this one when I’m having my car’s brake pads replaced and windshield repaired.

When it rains, it pours.

This money thing really has distressed me today. This evening my aunt told me that she recently had to have both her freezers and her air conditioner repaired (and none of it was cheap), so I get that shit happens to all of us. I get that the thing with my insurance wasn’t personal and–quite frankly–probably wouldn’t have happened if I’d been more on top of things in terms of understanding the limitations of my policy. That being said, it did happen, and I refuse to beat myself up about not knowing because this is the first time in my life that I’ve HAD insurance and am still learning the ropes. Still, the last few years have been rough physically and financially, so anytime there’s an unanticipated blow in terms of illness or money, it just feels like getting knocked down all over again.

Like, maybe I should just stay down here.

I don’t mean to sound all woe-is-me. Rather, I intend to sound honest. This afternoon and evening I read a book, mowed my parents’ lawn, and went to the library. Today hasn’t been all bad. But I’ve nonetheless felt discouraged. I wish this were different. I wish I could chalk today’s financial setback–any financial setback–up to “shit happens” and “don’t worry–there’s more where that came from.” And yet I haven’t been able to do this. Granted, I’ve felt more at peace about the matter this evening. Tonight I went for a walk, and my ankles got absolutely eaten up by mosquitoes. For thirty solid minutes they itched, itched, itched, but now I can barely feel any irritation. Maybe our fears and emotions are like this. They just need time to calm down.

My therapist says to be patient with myself, that I was “poisoned” with the idea of scarcity and that it will take time to get it out of my system. Deep-seeded beliefs don’t change overnight. The book I read this afternoon, The Laws of Manifestation by David Spangler, says it’s not embarrassing to have a need (a bill to pay or illness to heal, for example) and that, in fact, our needs exist because something within us wants come out. That is, some people believe that manifestation is about getting more stuff, more money, that it’s about ATTRACTING something external TO you. But the book says true manifestation is about evoking something FROM you and that, in order to do this, you yourself (as your consciousness) must BECOME that which you believe is missing from your life–vibrant health, abundance, whatever.

Said succinctly, if you want something to change in your external world, the best way to go about it to change you internal one.

This includes changing your beliefs.

To me this means that I could win the lottery tomorrow but unless I change who I am and what I believe, I’m still going to feel there’s not enough. (What, ONLY thirty million?) Again, the book says needs arise because something within wants to come out–because something inside us wants us TO CHANGE. According to this theory, this means that the reason I’m currently experiencing scarcity is because abundance exists within me as a potential and wants to emerge. Think of the seed of a tree that wants so badly to grow that it’s willing to bust through concrete. This is how our subconscious works–it’s willing to destroy everything you’ve ever worked for–take every dollar you have–if everything you’ve ever worked for is no longer serving you. It’s willing to–again and again–bring up every fear you have so that you can finally face them, finally face yourself. So that you can break through that which has held you back, and grow.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You absolutely have to be vulnerable and state what you want.

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Persistence, Persistence Ever (Blog #830)

I spent this last weekend out-of-town and sick with a sinus infection. Since I’d left my probiotics (which usually help my sinuses) at home, Friday afternoon I went to a local Asian market (called Grace, which I thought was auspicious) and bought some homemade kimchi. (Kimchi sometimes, not always, contains the probiotic that helps my sinus infections.) Then, because I like the shotgun approach to healing, that night I went to a health food store and bought more kimchi (a retail brand), as well as regular probiotics.

Unfortunately, none of this helped. I woke up Saturday sicker than I was Friday. So that morning I went to another Asian market (called Lucky, which I hoped I would be) and bought more kimchi, this time a brand I’ve had good results with back home. Alas, after using that kimchi all day Saturday, I woke up Sunday (yesterday) still stick.

Talk about frustrating.

About ready to give up and be sick, I decided to try again. So off I went to another Asian market. This one had an unremarkable name, but it did, however, have a case of coconut water labeled CoCo (my nickname on this site) sitting right at the front door. Maybe it’s a sign, I thought. Anyway, I bought MORE kimchi, this time a brand that prints the production date on their labels. (The helpful probiotic in kimchi is only alive for so long after production, which is why using kimchi to help your sinuses is sort of a crap shoot based on brand, ingredients, and the age of the product.)

THANKFULLY, this bottle seemed to do the trick. Last night my friend Matt and I went swing dancing, and mid-way through the dance I started feeling like myself again–more energetic, less blah. Y’all, I really had the best time. This was my first occasion Lindy Hopping since my knee injury seven months ago, and I was in absolute heaven. Not only did I get to see some old friends, but I got to Lindy Hop. I love Lindy Hopping. Now–granted–my left knee didn’t perform like it used to, but it didn’t “act up” and it didn’t cause me any pain either. So it’s just going to be a process–a process of learning how to dance again.

This morning I woke up at 5:30 to drive back home, go to therapy, and run some errands. Then I unpacked, took a nap, and spent five hours reading a book I picked up this afternoon (The Call of the Phoenix) while running around. Now I’m trying to knock out tonight’s blog so I can go back to bed because I’m getting up early tomorrow for my six-month follow up with my knee surgeon. Talk about a journey. I know I still have progress to make, but I really have come a long way.

The word on my mind today is persistence. The book I read tonight said, “Persistence, persistence ever.” This weekend I bought four jars of kimchi and one bottle of probiotics in an attempt to cure my sinus infection. That’s four grocery stores and forty to fifty bucks, which to my mind is better than going to the doctor and using antibiotics, but the whole ordeal was nonetheless a pain the ass. Sinus infections are a pain in MY ass. But boy am I sure glad I persisted and went looking for that fourth jar. Still, for all I know, I could wake up sick tomorrow and be back to the drawing board. But in my experience, this is life. We dance. We fall down. However slowly, we get back up. We insist on dancing again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No one is immune from life’s challenges.

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Less Perfection, More Joy (Blog #829)

Currently I’m out-of-town. This morning, again, I woke up with a sinus infection. Color me not impressed. Oh well. This isn’t my first sinus infection rodeo, so I’ll continue to try various home remedies until something works. Historically, something has always worked, so fingers crossed. In the meantime, I’m taking it easy. This afternoon I finished reading a book about headaches that said headache sufferers are usually perfectionists and people pleasers. Check and check. These are things I’ve been working on–loosening up on myself, not giving a fuck what other people think.

Last night, Saturday, I attended the wedding of the couple I’ve been teaching the Dirty Dancing routine to. Y’all, this has been a journey. We had our final practice Friday night, and parts of it were still rough. A few times they successfully completed the big lift at the end of the dance, but a few times they didn’t. So yesterday I was a nervous wreck. My friend Matt attended the wedding with me, and I told him, “I honestly have no idea how this is going to go.” Eventually, the big moment came. After the ceremony happened and the room was flipped for the ceremony, the couple was announced and made their way to dance floor. First they did a traditional (high school prom style) first dance, then the music from Dirty Dancing started.

As their friends and family began cheering, the couple proceeded through their routine. Was it perfect? No. They weren’t always on beat. But was it fun to watch, enjoyable for both them and (I’m assuming) everyone in the room? Yes.

Absolutely.

Just before the big lift moment, something happened I didn’t know was going to. The groom’s best man and groomsmen, seven guys altogether, made their way to the floor and crouched down behind the groom in order to catch the bride if the lift didn’t go well. Later the groom told me, “I wanted her to feel safe and have extra confidence when jumping.” Perfect, I thought. It really was the cutest thing. And the best part? She didn’t even need the extra support. The couple totally nailed the lift, better than they ever have before. Phew. Talk about a cause for celebration.

Personally, I couldn’t have been prouder. As for the couple–and yes, I’m about to go there–they had the time of their lives.

Matt said he’s seen videos online of couples doing that lift who really screwed it up–brides who fell into their own wedding cakes and shit like that. Talk about embarrassing. So after “my” couple hit their mark, the rest of the evening was a breeze for me. Matt and I sat with some friends of mine from Fort Smith, and we laughed, laughed, laughed. Then when the dance floor was opened to the general public, Matt and I cut a rug to several west coast swing songs. This completely made my night, especially since this was my first time dancing, really dancing, since my knee surgery six months ago. Even better? My knee performed beautifully and isn’t in any pain today.

Woot.

As for the rest of today, I plan to go swing dancing tonight. Granted, I could drive back home and try to take care of my sinuses, but they aren’t the worst ever, and dancing is a real stress reliever for me. I could use this relief. I think about my students last night and how, even though their routine wasn’t perfect, they had so much fun and experienced so much joy. This is what I want for my life. Less pressure, more fun. Less perfection, more joy.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Each season has something to offer.

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We Could Use a Little Help Here (Blog #828)

Well gross. I’m out-of-town for the wedding of some dance students and woke up sick morning. Sinus crap. I’ve been fighting it all week. I thought I was on top of it, but it appears to be on top of me. I hate that. Anyway, it’s 11:30 in the morning, and despite the fact that I haven’t left the place where I’m staying or done anything today, I’m blogging now because–come hell or high water–I’m attending that wedding this evening and don’t want to force my body to stay up late in order to blog. This is what I’ve realized, that even though I can’t immediately solve my sinus infection problem, I can do little things to support my body and decrease how much we suffer from it.

Down with suffering.

I said I haven’t done anything today, but that’s not exactly true. That’s never exactly true. Even if you lie in bed and snore all day, that’s SOMETHING. Well, after I got up an hour and a half ago, I ate breakfast (a protein bar and fruit), then read about thirty pages in a book I recently started about headaches. Today I learned that tension headaches (which I have) can be triggered by stress, anxiety (defined as fear without an object), and depression, as well as certain foods (often nitrate-containing) or liquids (alcohol, caffeine, or the withdrawal of caffeine).

The book said that for those of us who experience tension headaches it’s important to remove triggers. Granted, if your job is stressful, you may not be able to remove your job (or punch your boss in the face), but you can work at how you respond to your job or boss. For example, you could go for a walk or try meditation. Serenity now! For Type A personalities, the book suggested scheduling in time to relax. Like, make yourself shut off your phone, lie down, and stare at the ceiling fan. Or listen to the birds chirping. Or pet your dog or cat.

Another suggestion was to tense your major muscle groups (biceps, calves, quads, butt, back, shoulders, and neck) one-by-one and then relax them. The idea being that–if you do this enough–they get the message that if and when they get tense, the next thing they should do is relax. This theory made sense to me, so I tried it. (I let go a little. It was nice.) Once I heard someone say that just like you speak English (or whatever), your muscles speak a language too, a language they’ve been taught. So if your body is constantly tensed and stressed and you want it to behave or feel differently, you have to teach it how. You have to teach it a new language. You have to take time to say, Sweetheart, there’s nothing to worry about. You can let your guard down now.

I’m working on all of this, although it’s often overwhelming to think about and do when I’m sick. That is, when I feel like crap from a sinus infection AND have a headache (or even just tight muscles), I want to throw in the towel. More than that, I want to yell and scream at my body, Get yourself together. I get so impatient with myself. And yet when I don’t feel well, this is exactly the time that patience for myself is needed–because my body is clearly communicating that it’s had enough of the push, push, pushing, and the go, go, going. It’s clearly saying, We could use a little help here. We could use a little understanding.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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When we expect great things, we see great things.

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