Better Together (Blog #1096!)

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Dear Marcus,

It’s been a bumpy ride. Six years ago two days from now we were passed out drunk and naked, hugging a toilet seat, having just broken up with the first and only person we’ve ever thought we were going to marry. It wasn’t pretty. And boy were we wrong about him. (Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.) Anyway, it was touch and go there for a while. We didn’t know where we were going to live, how we were going to pay the rent, or how we were going to heal That Which Was Broken. We were so confused. Thankfully, only one week before all of this occurred we had our first therapy session and met our guardian angel. (Who knew angels could wear Kesha T-shirts and curse like sailors?) Which just goes to show you that Maria in The Sound of Music was right. When the lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.

Granted, there were some rough days, some hole-in-our chest moments when nothing made sense. Now we know this was simply The Mystery, The Necessary Mystery. Said another way, it was The Healing. Which is, of course, crooked as a dog’s hind leg, anything but fun, and, well, just plain gross at times. For us it meant a lot of time in therapy, completely rewiring the way we thought, getting some damn boundaries, and changing or saying goodbye to oh-so-many relationships. Also, and I’m sorry about this, it meant a lot of empty pockets.

I’ll explain.

Despite the fact that you’d done a lot of internal work three-and-a-half years ago, the powers that be weren’t quite satisfied. As it turns out, they demand the best. In other words, they want the best for us. So they did what they often do when someone they care about isn’t living up to their full potential. They make them absolutely miserable. In your case this misery pushed you to close your dance studio, sell most of your earthly possessions, and move from Fort Smith, Arkansas, to Fayetteville, Arkansas, with the intention of moving to Austin, Texas, where many people (who haven’t checked your Facebook page in over three years) still think you are. Even though you never went. Indeed, that was your plan. But not you-know-who’s plan, which is why it didn’t work out. (He always gets his way.) This is why it was a good thing you didn’t have more money than you did. Because–let’s face it–if you’d had the money you would have gone “come hell or high water” and missed out on The Opportunity.

Because you’re so damn stubborn.

Also, don’t worry. Stubbornness is a good thing. Because life isn’t for sissies. It just means that you don’t always have the most patience. Like someone recently told you, “You’re happy to give God the reigns, but if he hasn’t done anything with them in ten minutes you take them back.”

(Correct.)

Getting back to your move to Fayetteville, that obviously didn’t work out either, and I know that few adult men would be thrilled about moving back in with their parents. Which you had to do. But again, this was by design. As you’ve told a number of people these last three years, it’s given you a chance to mend, heal, and grow relationships you couldn’t have otherwise. It’s given you a chance to be understanding. And to be understood. And whereas it’s tempting to think you’ve somehow missed out on life because you haven’t spent the last three years making a shitpot full of money or “being like everybody else,” the things you’ve busied yourself about are the things that really matter and make life WORTH living. The things that matter to your soul and the things that make you fully human.

So never regret getting to know me.

Please.

It’s worth every minute.

I promise.

Speaking of the last few years and specifically what you’ve done with and through this blog, I couldn’t be more proud of you. I realize it hasn’t set the world, or even the internet, on fire, but it has set us on fire. Again, this is what matters. For us, this has been the royal road, the way, The Path. The Path out of suffering. The Path back home. Sure, you didn’t have any idea what you were getting yourself into when you sat down three years ago tomorrow and wrote your first post, but I did. Additionally, through both your best days and your most challenging days, your–what’s the phrase you use?–that-makes-my-ass-want-buttermilk kind of days, I’ve been cheering you on and nudging you forward. Darling, don’t give up. Don’t you dare give up. I’m waiting for you.

I know this hasn’t been easy. I also know that you’re not quite sure where to go from here. There’s a part of you that wants to hang on to this project that’s been so good for us. And still there’s another part that’s so effing ready to let go, so excited to see what’s next that you can hardly wait to hit Publish and move on. Allow all your feelings, but lean into this second part. Get excited. You’ve worked your ass off here, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Congratulations! Celebrate. Your life’s not over, it’s only just beginning. What’s more, although I know you often think and believe that you try, try, try and get nowhere, all your hard work has actually paid off. It continues to pay off. You read all those damn books about healing, and now you’re one of those people those books talk about. Yes, we know things aren’t perfect, but you’re headed in the right direction. So keep going. And just know that you’re already a success story.

You know those magical days when you wake up and you can see it, feel it, almost taste it? Those days when you absolutely know that you’re exactly where you need to be, learning and doing what you need to be learning and doing? Those days when you know nothing is an accident, that the people who are in your life, all those wonderful friends, teachers, and mentors, were sent to you for a reason? That you were sent to each other for a reason? Those days when you can feel in your bones that nothing is random? Well, keep thinking these things, keep believing these things. You’ll doubt at times, of course, since that’s what the mind does here on planet earth. But know that I never do. My faith in you and The Way of It is rock solid.

My faith in us is rock solid.

So keep your chin up.

You know that Joseph Campbell fella you’re so madly in love with? He said, “Schopenhauer said that when you go through life, this character appears, that character appears, and it all seems accidental at the time it is happening. Then when you get on in your sixties or seventies and look back, your life looks like a well-planned novel with a coherent theme. Things have happened, you realize, in an appropriate way. Incidents that seemed to be accidental, pure chance, turn out to be major elements in the structuring of this novel. Schopenhauer says, ‘Who wrote the novel? You did.'” I couldn’t agree more. Things have happened in an appropriate way. But it’s not that you wrote the novel, it’s that I did. We did. So from here on out, just know that you have a partner in all this.

No one is alone, and that includes you.

Going forward, I’m not discouraging you from planning. I know you like to do that. And yet, as you’ve come to see time and time again, sometimes the best things aren’t planned. What’s more, sometimes what you think are the worst things turn out to be the best things. Because they put us on the path back to ourselves. Really, this is the only path there is. The only game in town, it’s the pearl of great value, the true buried treasure, the kingdom of heaven. So it’s worth all the time, pain, and heartache and whatever you have to give up in order to find it. It’s worth all The Hard Work, all the icky emotions and past experiences you have to dig through and sort out, and all the judgment you have to endure from others and yourself. Because when it’s all said and done, what profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his own soul?

All this to say, Marcus, please stay open to what’s coming down the pike. Please stay open to, and expect, miracles. They happen. And are kind of God’s thing. Also, please remember the he/she/it is rather fond of you. Just like I’m rather fond of you. I mean, good lord, you’re a knockout, you’re smart as whip and have a killer personality and sense of humor (although I know your family may disagree, but, in the words of your father, they have to live with you), and you have a good rear end to boot. What’s not to love? Said another way, what more do you want?

(Some cash would be nice.)

Relax, already. It’s coming. We’re in the middle of a recession.

But seriously, you’ve been given everything you need to succeed. And whereas this has always been the case, now that you’ve walked the royal road, you know it. Deep down. What’s more, now that you’ve come to know yourself, things are going to get easier. The next half of your life is going to look so much different than the first half. So much better. Not that you’ll never face another challenge again–you certainly will–but you’ll handle things better. With more grace. There will be a steadiness about you that you didn’t have before, a confidence, an internal anchor. A part of you that knows that, come what may, I have what it takes and am going to be all right. And just know that if the world ever gets to be too much, you can always reach out and find me. You can sit down at this keyboard ANY TIME YOU’D LIKE, and we can fix whatever it is together. Or just call my name, and I’ll come running.

That is if I don’t call you first. Which, honestly, I probably will. Because, Marcus Anderson Coker, I’m not done with you yet. Plus, I’ve always called you first, since it’s kind of my job to pursue you. You see, Darling, I just can’t stand to be without you. Without us. We are, after all, better together than we are apart. Surely by now you agree.

With all my love,

Your heart (your sweet heart)

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You know when someone crosses a line. You may not want to admit it, but you know.

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Here’s to You (Blog #1095)

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Tonight’s blog is #1095 in a row and is my next to last. I’m smiling in tonight’s photo, but I’m not happy. Or at least if I am I’m a lot of other things too–sad, overwhelmed, confused, cranky. And tired. I’m tired. Of putting so much time and attention into this project. Of staying up way too late to work on it. Even when I’ve been sick. Of trying to find the right words. Of reading everything I’ve written at least four times a night in order to make sure it’s good enough, the whole time imagining it’s not. Most of all, I’m tired of doing it all alone. Of always being the strong one.

Granted, there’s a part of me that knows I’m not alone in all this. For the last six years I’ve been supported professionally by a kickass therapist, a woman who’s not only been my solid rock but has also taken my calls at all hours of the day and night. Likewise, a number of other professionals have been there for me throughout my healing process these last three years, giving me good information and even holding me while I’ve cried. Plus, I’ve had the support of my family and friends. The especially lovely part about this being that although most of them haven’t (I imagine) fully understood my journey or chosen to walk a similar path, they have nonetheless cheered me on.

My original thought for tonight’s blog was to address my readers, anyone who’s read this blog on a regular basis or has happened to peruse it even once. However, writing the entire blog “to you,” someone I can’t see right now, seems odd. Forced, I guess, because I’m so used to writing “to me.” Indeed, although over the last three years I’ve often said things like–dear reader, you, we, and us–I’ve primarily considered these ways to address myself. Not because I have multiple personalities, but because from the beginning this blog has been a form of self-therapy. Meaning that it’s been my way to work myself into a better place, so any advice I’ve given has been first and foremost for me. If it’s helped others, good. But what I know for certain is that it’s helped me.

More and more, this is enough.

No one else can save you.

Along these lines, anyone who sits down at a keyboard by themselves every day for three years could easily drive himself crazy–if he thinks he’s doing it for someone else, if he’s looking for a certain response or reception, or if he doesn’t find the work satisfying in and of itself. Thankfully, although in the beginning I imagined a different reception than the one I got, I’m satisfied now. Not because of what someone else has said or not said about this work, but because it’s been my salvation. Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. Or with a keyboard and a box of Kleenex. Whatever it takes. But this is what I’ve discovered. Others can support you, but no one else can save you. That’s your job. Your hard work has your name on it for a reason.

This sucks, I know.

Getting back to addressing my readers, I’d be remiss if I weren’t absolutely clear. I deeply appreciate anyone and everyone who’s spent even five minutes of their time reading my work, my inner world. Because no one owes me their time or attention. No one. If I’ve received it, whether I knew about it or not, it’s been a gift. A gift that humbles me and, no matter how much I try, one I really can’t wrap my head around. Perhaps because I’m so often hard on myself and think nothing is ever good enough, I especially don’t understand, and therefore can’t fully appreciate, the gift I’ve been given by those of you who’ve read–oh my gosh–every single post. Truly, I’m dumbfounded and speechless. As someone who often thinks that others don’t notice him or that his work isn’t impactful, you strongly encourage me to think and believe otherwise.

Thank you.

As a words-of-affirmation person, I’m particularly grateful to those of you who’ve liked, shared, or commented on my posts, as well as those of you who’ve sent private messages or emails over the last few years to tell me specifically how you’ve been encouraged by my journey and/or my words. A few names and faces come to mind, and I can’t tell you what a heartening thing it’s been to receive your kindness at the most random times and places. Truly, you’ve lifted me up, and I’ve felt your love across the miles. So please know how powerful you are. Your voice–yes, your voice–can offer someone hope, give them strength to keep going, and turn their life around for the better.

My therapist says that when she was growing up she was constantly told by her family, “Everything you touch turns to shit.” Well, 1) I strongly disagree, and my life is proof to the contrary, and 2) clearly even the people who know us the best are often wrong about us. Growing up, I heard, “Marcus, if you had a brain you’d be dangerous.” And whereas that used to bother me, now as an adult, I know it was just someone else’s shit. Still, messages like these get engrained, and I’ve spent a lot of time over the years thinking I was a fuck up, not good enough. All this to say that just as positive messages can have an impact on someone’s life, so can negative ones. So, again, you’re powerful.

Use your power wisely.

And don’t let anyone else tell you you’re anything less than a walking miracle.

You’re more supported than you know.

Coming full circle, at the beginning of tonight’s blog I said I was feeling all the feelings, especially tired. In today’s world, I imagine you’re tired too. In addition to the global pandemic (as if that weren’t enough), I know many of my dear friends and family are fighting their own health battles, watching their loved ones fight theirs, or both. Or just going through hell on a unicycle, slowly. (Please keep going.) And whereas one person can never know exactly what another is dealing with, as much as I can, I understand. I understand being exhausted, I understand wanting to give up, and I understand believing that you’ve tried everything but nothing works, damn it. Alas, as far as I can tell, The Path will always wear you out, kick your ass, and, at some point, make you cry uncle. Put your foot upon it anyway. Not only will you be better for it, but we need you on the other side of it. What’s more, you’re stronger than you think, are more supported than you know, and are deeply loved even when you don’t feel it.

So take heart. Many people, myself included, are cheering you on.

Here’s to you.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No one is immune from life’s challenges.

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These Hundreds of Thousands of Words (Blog #1094)

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Phew. All day I’ve been tired, sad. And whereas I could blame lack of sleep and a number of other things, the fact is I’ve already begun to grieve the loss of this blog. Including tonight, I only have three more posts to go. I don’t know. It’s weird. Just like when a person dies you go through all those stages–denial, anger, grief, acceptance, bargaining–I’m going through those with this. Denial because, has it really been three years? Anger because of what hasn’t happened, hopes and expectations that haven’t been met. Ugh. All the feelings. The good news being that, so much more than three years ago, I’m open to all the feelings and what they have to teach me. Sweetheart, letting go is never easy.

At times throughout this process I’ve imagined that I’d, I guess, somehow be perfectly healed, or just perfect, on the other side of this thing. And that one of my final posts would be like, here’s how I did it. And how you can too for three easy payments of $127. Alas, if anyone ever pitches you such a deal, run don’t walk away. Because the fact is that no matter what a person learns, they are always and forever still growing. Still a work in progress. As much as people like me may hate it, there is no perfect to get to. If it does exist, perfection is like the casserole I made for dinner tonight. A little bit of everything. One big delicious mess.

With cheese.

This being said, I would like to take this blog as an opportunity to “sum up” what I’ve learned or how I’ve grown as a direct result of this project. My idea being that, although I despise numbered lists and bulleted sub-headings, I’ll go through my blog “categories” one by one and write a few sentences or paragraphs about each one. As these categories became self-evident early on and new ones haven’t been added in maybe a year and a half, I’ve come to see them as themes, or what this time in my life has been all about. The lessons I’ve been learning and doing my best to embody.

So here we go. I’m just going to shoot from the hip. And I’ll try to be brief. (Yeah right, Marcus.)

1. Abundance

Ugh. Does this have to be the first one? This has been a toughy for me, since, as a result of my traumas, I grew up believing that if you love something, just wait, it’ll be taken away from you. And yet my therapist, who has a real hard on for abundance, has shoved it down my throat. Yes, things leave, but other things come around. Thankfully, I have made progress. For one thing, money isn’t terrifying to me anymore. Even though I don’t have much of it. Although now I imagine if I did I wouldn’t be scared of it. It’s just paper. The most important thing being, however, that I really do believe deep down that I’ve been given an abundance of talent, love, help, knowledge, wisdom, and resources (both internal and external) with which to make my way through life. Creatively, I’ve been given an abundance of ideas. This is what counts. I know it’s rough when your bank account is strapped, but don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

2. Affirmations

A lot of self-help books are huge on affirmations, looking in the mirror and saying, “I’m beautiful, rich, and forgiving.” Or whatever. And whereas I’ve tried this shit more times than I care to admit, it hasn’t been what’s worked for me. Instead, the affirmations that have turned my life around, rather than being forced into me, have come out of me. That’s what this blog has been about. Sweetheart, be patient. I’m here for you. So if you like the idea of affirmations, go for it. But don’t open a book to find them. Open your heart.

3. Archetypes and Personalities

More and more I see the world through the lenses of “we’re all different” and “we’re all the same.” And whereas I don’t subscribe to one particular personality system, it’s helped me to be able to label people with archetypes (diva, drama queen, addict, pimp), since it allows me to get impersonal about their behavior. Or even mine. (Of course I’m worried about my outfit; I’m an artist!) Additionally, the more personality systems I study, the more I realize that every archetype and personality type is not only neutral (although it can be animated positively or negatively), but also necessary. God knows we don’t need everyone to an anal-retentive control freak. But God also knows the world would be a much sloppier place without those of us who are. (Wash your damn hands.)

4. Authenticity

This is a buzz word these days, and one my therapist actually dislikes because it’s so “hip.” To me it equates to being honest, even and especially if that honesty looks like anger, sadness, or confusion. You know, the emotions we hide behind our masks. Alas, it doesn’t seem to be something we can achieve every minute of every day (certain niceties are required in a polite society), but it is something we can strive toward. Being real. Being ourselves. My only other thought about it is that I’ve often been as surprised as anyone else when I’ve been able to be assertive or–here’s another word my therapist hates–vulnerable. Like when I cry in public or admit my faults (which, I agree with my therapist, isn’t being vulnerable, it’s being honest). Meaning we often don’t know what our authentic selves look like until they reveal themselves to us.

5. Balance

Is required and looks different for everyone. How do you know you’re out of balance in any area of your life? Your body will tell you. Learn to listen to its subtle and not-so-subtle messages. Additionally, pay attention to your relationships. If they’re full of drama, contention, or anything but an underlying peace, something is out of whack. Chances are you’ll never be able to hold the center point forever, so just keep your eyes on the middle. The rest will take care of itself.

6. Boundaries

My therapist calls boundaries the Holy Grail of personal growth. And whereas I used to think I had them, I realized I didn’t. Pro tip: if you can’t say no or if you tell the most personal details of your life to complete strangers (or vice versa), you don’t either. So get some. Learn to not only say no, but hell no. Figure out what you’re worth and don’t settle for less. Get in touch with your soul, do whatever it says, and never, under any circumstances, sell it. For one thing, it’s not yours to sell. For another, you’ll always regret it. How do you do these things? By learning to say no, hell no. And don’t worry if you “mess up.” Life will, without a doubt, give you another opportunity to excel. As with all things, having good boundaries is a process.

7. Coco’s Favorites

These blogs are my personal favorites. Many are already tagged as such, but I’ll be adding others as I work my way through reading all my old posts.

8. Creativity

People say they’re not creative, but I’m convinced we all are, even if it’s just in the way we make up a story about how we’re not creative, or what someone did that ruined our lives, or how awful things are (when they’re really not). Of course, creativity is better expressed through writing, dancing, knitting, planting, decorating, or whatever, and I’m certain our souls MUST, somehow, expand themselves through creating. So first stop and notice WHAT you’re creating (dinner, drama, dissent), then think about what you’d LIKE to be creating (an encouraging environment, a business, a hilarious blog). Then CHOOSE something different.

9. Dancing

Is good for a hundred reasons. Do it. Even if you don’t like it, consider that you were made to move. Some way, somehow. Your very heart BEATS. Tune into the rhythm of your life. If you ARE willing to give dancing a try, remember what my mentor Maggie tells her students. “Let dancing love you.” If not dancing, then let something, someone. Please, open your heart.

10. Dream Interpretation

I wish I were a master at this or had some of the experiences the people who write all those books about dreams do. Lucid dreaming, predicting the future, and whatnot. I don’t know, my therapist says I have the “most auspicious dreams,” so maybe it’s just easy to think someone else’s life is better or more fabulous than yours. Regardless, I do believe our subconscious/inner wisdom speaks to us a thousand different ways. Through dreams, synchronicities, hunches, bodily sensations, feelings, emotions, and even thoughts. So it’s whatever floats your boat, whatever you’re willing to listen to. Just know that it’s not all as random as it seems. Know that you can trust yourself. You’re wiser than you realize.

11. Emotions

Are not something you primarily think about. They’re something you primarily feel. Also, I hate to break it to you, they’re not something that go away when you shove them down. Like, they just hang out in the shadows. In your shadow. And whereas I wish I had a surefire way for coaxing them out, I’ve learned they come up when they’re ready. The best thing we can do is to listen. Be curious. Love, or at least make space for, whatever arises. Including frustration, anger, grief, sadness, and anything else that gives you snot bubbles. Because that’s your inner wisdom talking. For example, anger often means “get some damn boundaries.” (See above.)

12. Encouragement

Whatever you’re going through, I promise you’re not alone. Yes, your situation is unique to you and is your cross to bear, but it’s not the first time it’s ever happened. In Alcoholics Anonymous they say, “You’re only as sick as you are isolated.” Meaning that a burden is automatically lifted when you stop trying to carry it yourself. So please know that people love you and are rooting for you. Granted, they don’t always know what to say, but I guarantee there are people who would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. People who will cry at your funeral and feel that something important, something they liked, is missing from their lives when you’re gone.

13. Facebook Live

This is where I’ve put the few live videos I’ve done and where I’ve read, out loud, other stories I’ve written. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll do at least one more when this is over.

14. Gratitude

Is often something those self-help books try to force. Don’t worry, be happy. Alas, I’ve found that gratitude, like an affirmation, works best when it springs naturally from the heart. A humbling voice, it says, “Sweetheart, you have everything you could ever need and more.” What’s more, I’m convinced this voice is always there, available even when we are most down. It says, “Life sucks, but we’ve been given this breath, and with this breath we will make it to our next. Or make it home.” So again, listen to your heart. (Not your head.)

15. Growing Up

Involves letting go of the need to blame, being your own parent most of the time, taking responsibility for your life and choices, and sucks. But is absolutely necessary. Also, it’s natural. Stop fighting it.

16. Hope

As stated in The Shawshank Redemption, “is a good thing, maybe the best of things.” So please, please, please allow as much room as is humanly or even divinely possible that even your most challenging circumstance can turn around for the better. On a dime if heaven so sees fit. Along these lines, pray for miracles and expect them to show up.

17. Improv Comedy

Is worth trying or at least taking note of. Because, like life, it requires that you think on your feet, play well with others, and not look back. Audiences may not be forgiving, but improv teaches you to be. So what if the show didn’t go well? It’s over. (Everything in your life is over.) Why is this a good thing? Because now we can play another game.

18. Letting Go

Is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. Because we like what we like and we want it last. Our relationships, our stuff, our identities, our stories and judgments about ourselves and others. Our blogs. But nothing lasts. We don’t get to keep a thing. So work on enjoying whatever it is while it’s here, then letting it go. The way the sun sets, the way a storm ceases. With grace.

19. Myths and Fairy Tales

Aren’t just cute little stories. Rather, within them are embedded the mysteries of life, our personalities, and our struggles. Best thing I ever heard on this topic was that your three favorite movies reveal the path your life is on, and I believe this more and more. Recently through EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) I realized one of my favorite movie characters (for almost twenty years now) was not only hung up on integrity (like I am) but was also embarrassed by his station in life (like I used to be). The idea being that you’re drawn to these characters and their stories for a reason. Your inner wisdom is nudging you forward, giving you a template for what’s possible. Be willing to take the trip.

20. Patience

Is almost harder than letting go. But is one of the most useful traits you could ever hope to develop. Because although the universe is capable of turning on a dime, it rarely does. What’s more, it rarely does what you want it to, when you want it to. Pro tip: the less you insist on having everything your way, the more patient you’ll be. So, in the words of Nancy Byrd Turner, “learn to labor and to wait.” Give yourself the gift of time. To grow. To heal. Nature does not proceed in leaps, and neither do we.

21. Perspective

If I could give everyone one gift, it would be the gift of perspective, the gift of being able to perceive whatever it is thats bothering you (including yourself) in a different way. Alas, since I can’t, go see a therapist. This is what they get paid for. But seriously, what if you could put on a pair of mystical glasses that allowed you to see everything in your life, even the rotten stuff, as heaven’s gift to you? What if you could turn your viewpoint upside down and really see that there’s nothing in your life by accident and that–if it’s there–it’s there for a reason? To challenge you, to grow you, to change you, and maybe even the world, for the better? What if you could look at the mountain you’re facing and, rather than asking God to remove it, absolutely know you were meant to climb it? And then put your boots on. This is my encouragement. Pick up a book, go to church, or bang your head against the wall, not until your circumstances shift, but until your perspective does. Because that’s when you will.

22. Relationships

Seems to be the medium through which everything happens. The bullshit, the learning, and the healing. So look alive. Like or not, no one is alone. We’re all in this together.

23. Self-Acceptance

Means coming to love yourself warts and all, not putting up such a damn front, and being gentle with yourself and others. It means accepting every part of you–even the ugly, angry, and sad parts. The weird thing? The more you accept yourself exactly as you are, the more you accept others and the world exactly as they are. And vice versa. This is why Jesus said don’t judge. Because that which you hold against someone else, sooner or later, you’ll hold against yourself. But as you accept That Which Is Unacceptable in yourself or another, That Which Is Unacceptable becomes your teacher. All parts come bearing gifts. Hold out your hands.

24. Spiritual Practice

Looks different for everyone but is something I’m convinced we all long for and participate in somehow. Maybe one person does it in the kitchen, the way they lovingly prepare the perfect meal to feed their family. Maybe another does it in a chapel. I grew up as a Christian. Last night I prayed the rosary. Now I don’t know what to call myself. More and more, the labels are unimportant. It’s the experience I’m after, the inner knowing that I’m part of something bigger than myself. The conviction that every time I take a breath, God breathes with me. I’m after what the mystics know, the truth that every life, every rock, and every molecule is both sacred and holy.

25. The Physical Body

This could be an entire series of posts. And has been. Suffice it to say that every experience we have on this planet is granted to us through our physical organism. And whereas my personal temptation has been to ignore my body’s signals (information, guidance, wisdom) or be mad it at for hurting or being sick (not good enough), I’ve learned that it is the master and I am its pupil. I am in its classroom, and I must play by its rules. So more and more I’m learning to love, honor, and take care of my body, this gift I’ve been given. Granted, it’s easy to compare yourself to others and find fault with your body, but then you miss The Mystery. Then you miss the wonder that is you.

26. Therapy and Healing

Is actually a thing. And whereas I could go on and on about different therapies and modalities I’ve tried and succeeded with, really, it all started the day I picked up the phone and called my therapist. One little choice that was really a big choice. “I think I need help,” I said. Thankfully, my therapist was a good fit for me, and her office became a safe place, a sacred place, where I could begin to put myself back together. And whereas I’ve done a lot of work on my own, I think this is a huge part of the process. Having a witness. Not someone that does the work for you, but someone who sees you and believes in you. Maybe more than you do. Someone who is willing to stick with you through it all. Another big part being what my therapist told me that first session. “For this hour we’re going to do two things: sit in truth and not judge ourselves.” So whatever path you choose, I suggest taking these two gems with you. The truth (it will set you free) and non-judgment. I promise, you’ll get further faster if you do.

27. Transformation

Is not only possible, but necessary. Just like a caterpillar can’t stay a caterpillar forever, we as humans can’t stay our old selves forever. Indeed, we’ve been designed to grow, change, transform, evolve. To forget that which is behind and press forward toward the mark. To be burned in the ashes and rise again. To die on the cross and ascend three days (or three years) later. This is written in our stories, and this is written in our cells. So just find a way to accept it. Then get on with the process. Set your foot upon The Path. Entertain the idea that you are more (insert positive adjective here) than you ever thought possible.

28. Travel Writing

Hasn’t been a huge part of my journey or this blog but is still worth mentioning. One lesson from traveling being that, just like that, the universe can take you on a trip, put someone on your path, or put you on someone else’s. Just like that, you can be in a whole new world. With a whole new perspective. JRR Tolkein said, “Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or secret gate.” Believe in this magic. Trust that as one journey ends, another is beginning.

29. Writing

Isn’t for everyone, but is for everyone. At least, words are for everyone. Personally, these words, these hundreds of thousands of words, have changed my life. Once a writer friend pointed out that I was literally writing into existence the life I wanted to live. Sweetheart, hang on for one more day. Things will get better. Lately I’ve been hashtagging all my posts #healing. And whereas I’ve thought of these statements and labels as simply my way of hoping or just description, well, in the beginning was the word. Seriously. Think of the world you create when you say something is “possible” versus the world you create when you say something is “impossible.” Notice how your thoughts, feelings, emotions, attitude, and actions change depending on which world you decide to inhabit. Crazy, I know. And that’s just one little word. Now, have the words I’ve written these last three years MADE my life change? I could never prove that. But my life has changed, and surely it’s at least partly due to the fact that at some point I started telling myself a different story. A story I wanted to hear. One of healing, forgiveness, self-acceptance, hope, transformation, and transcendence. A story in which I was the hero and there was a happy ending.

And surely anyone can do this.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Bodies are so mysterious, much more complicated than car doors. They take more patience to understand and work with. They require more than a couple hours to repair.

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Leave the Raft Behind (Blog #1087)

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It’s 11:50 at night, and this is the beginning of the end. No, not of the world, although I guess that’s possible. Anything is possible these days. Rather, it’s the beginning of the end of this blog. I only have ten more posts including this one to go. And whereas I’m looking forward to having two hours (on average) of every day back to sleep, work on other projects, and do whatever the hell I want, I’m also anticipating a loss. That is, I’ve come to love my time here at this keyboard. Mostly, I suppose, because it’s been my safe haven, a place I’ve been able to run to for comfort time and time again, whenever anything–and everything–has gone wrong.

There’s a story in Buddhism, or one of those religions, that if your goal is to reach the other side of a river (enlightenment), then you’re going to have to use a raft (meditation, a guru) to get there. But once you’re on the other side you leave the raft behind. Because, well, why would you need it? You wouldn’t. Because for one thing it’s done its job already. For another, carrying around a raft for the rest of your life would be so terribly awkward.

And bad for your back

Along these lines, my original goal with this blog was to establish a daily writing practice. And whereas I don’t know if I’ll continue to write every day, every damn day, when this is over, I’ve clearly done that. What’s more, I’ve proven to myself that I have what it takes to commit to something I believe in. This writing project. What’s most important, however, is that, really without intending to when I came up with this idea three years ago, I’ve ended up committing to myself. And whereas I think this would have been the case had I–I don’t know–chosen to write a poem or a short story every day (because I would have been building self-esteem by keeping my word to myself), it’s certainly been the case given the fact that for over a thousand days now I’ve sat down and effectively been my own therapist, spiritual guide, healer, and cheerleader. There, there, Sweetheart, we’re going to get through this.

Not that I haven’t had tons of help along the way. And God knows I’ve talked ad nauseam about what that help has been. All my therapists, doctors, modalities, and such. All of which I’m extremely grateful for and have convinced me that there’s always willing help available. Ultimately, The Path is walked alone, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get plenty of support while walking it. Plenty of what Joseph Campbell called supernatural aide. And yet every day and always one finds themselves alone with their thoughts, emotions, dreams, terrors, situations, predicaments, and their past. Alas, although others can help you with these things, these things ultimately have your name written all over them. And so you must learn to deal with them.

And so you must learn to deal with yourself.

It’s weird the breadcrumbs my subconscious, or God or the universe, laid out before me when I (we?) first started this project. That is, my very first blog was titled “it’s time to soften up,” and it was about how I really wanted, needed to go easier on myself. Well, this has been an unintended and, apparently, much-cried-out-for theme these last few years. Sweetheart, chill the fuck out. Be gentle. And whereas I wish I could tell you that I’m “there,” I’m not. But I have made A LOT of progress. Still, recently I told my therapist that I have another project in mind to start after this one but that I wanted to wait a couple weeks before announcing it. “But I can still be planning and working on it,” I said.

“Or you could JUST REST,” she offered.

I mean, there’s an idea. The whole world is on pause right now thanks to COVID-19, so what better time to dramatically slow my roll? Seriously, it’s rough being stuck at home, but I may never be given this amount of free time again in my life. Time to read, time to watch Netflix, time to stretch. Time to get quiet and go inside. Time to heal. This morning I learned that my myofascial release wizard is closing her office for the time being, a fact that would normally upset me because we’ve been getting such good results lately. But more and more I’m trusting 1) divine timing and 2) that if a miracle can happen in a therapist’s office, it can happen in your bedroom.

Don’t I wish?

That was a sex joke, Mom.

Getting back to the idea of miracles (and not the “this is where the magic happens” kind), I’m learning that you have to do your part. Meaning that the chances that Jesus is going to knock on your door and strike you completely healthy are slim. But the chances that heaven is going to meet you more than halfway if you show them that you’re even remotely serious are pretty damn good. This has been my experience over and over again–with my therapist, with this blog, with my EMDR therapist, and with a whole bevy of doctors, practitioners, and helpful books. I cry out, “Help,” do what I know to do, and God (sometimes called Good) comes running.

Help is on the way, dear!

This evening I heard healer Charlie Goldsmith say that our emotions are meant to be felt and experienced but not held on to. “If someone told you a joke, you wouldn’t keep laughing for three weeks,” he said. And yet so many of us hold on to our anger, even when whatever it was that originally caused us to be angry was, like, fucking years ago. And not that you shouldn’t get angry when someone crosses a line or shit hits the fan. You’re just not supposed to hold on to that feeling. (Or, better said, let it hold on to you.) This is another way of saying leave the raft behind. Learn from the emotion and the experience, but don’t carry the teacher with you. Let the dead bury the dead. Let the past be over. Be right here, right now. Sweetheart, come to the other side of the river. Come home again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t play small forever.

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Free (Blog #1086)

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Ugh. I’ve spent all day reading, first a book about energy medicine (weird even for me), then a book about quantum physics and healing (fascinating), then a book I’m editing for a client (lacking commas, but that’s why I’m here). All the while our world has been going to hell in a hand basket. Because of COVID-19, many of us are on self- or government-imposed quarantine. This is confining and, therefore, scary (nobody likes to be pinned down; well, some people do, but I digress), but perhaps it’s for the best. A friend of mine in Alabama who has the virus has had a fever for ten days (and plenty of people are dying), so this virus clearly doesn’t fuck around. Drastic times call for drastic measures. Still, it often scares the shit out of me.

Which is a problem because I only have so much toilet paper.

Earlier today a friend of mine who’s both a mom and a therapist posted on Instagram about how to talk your kids about their feelings about, well, let’s face it, the end of the world as we know it. Her suggestion was to use notecards with blanks on them and have your kids fill in the blanks. For example, I FEEL (BLANK), ABOUT (BLANK), BECAUSE (BLANK) could be filled in as: I feel SCARED, about COVID-19, because I THINK I’M GOING TO GET IT. Of course, we as adults can do this too, especially since so many of us have trouble identifying and/or talking about our feelings. Personally, I feel ANXIOUS, about COVID-19, because I DON’T WANT ME OR ANYONE I CARE ABOUT TO SUFFER OR DIE. And because I’M LOSING MY FREEDOM (to go wherever I want when I want, to eat out, to make money like I have been).

Alas, many of our fears are coming true. Businesses are closing. Cities and states are on lockdown. Most people with the virus are getting better, but no small number are dying. As one of my friends just messaged me, it’s like we’re living in The Twilight Zone. And yet, at the same time that so many things are falling apart, people are rising to the occasion, offering online courses for entertainment, education, and morale-boosting for cheap or free. Companies aren’t charging for their services for the next month or the foreseeable future. Churches are offering to bring food to shut-ins. To borrow and bastardize a famous line, it’s the worst of times, it’s the best of times.

I realize “best” may be a stretch.

Pandemics happen.

One thing about this whole pandemic business that’s got me fuzzed up is the fact that it’s happening just as this blog is coming to an end. Not to make a worldwide crisis about me and my little writing project, but I only have eleven more posts left (including this one), and I’d personally like to be talking about other things. And going out to eat after my last post to celebrate three full years of daily writing and introspection. But as my dad said earlier, “Looks like you’ll be celebrating with your family.” (They’re real partiers. Thank God we have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.) Alas, this is the way of it. Shit happens. Pandemics happen. And as for the content on this blog, my goal from the beginning has been to sit down at the keyboard every day, meet myself, and share as honestly as possible about whatever happens to be on my heart and mind. Lately, it’s been the virus. And if it’s the virus for the next ten days, so be it. I’m not going to change my format now.

I’ve talked before about how healing is 1) a non-linear path and 2) messy, and so is a blog like this. What I mean is that although I’ve written every day, every damn day for a damn while now, there have been a lot of peaks and valleys, posts that I’ve considered glorious, posts I’ve considered not so glorious. As I begin to look back on the project as a whole, however, these labels mean less and less. That is, good days and bad days don’t really matter. What matters is this project as a whole and, more importantly, me as a whole, how I’ve grown as a result of sticking to this thing. What matters is the encouragement, support, and information others have taken away as a result of that sticking. The mystics would say it like this–what helps one, helps everyone.

This concept is difficult to understand from a human, mind-only perspective, but I think it’s something we all know intuitively in our hearts. Currently people are getting upset when their neighbors don’t quarantine because they know they’re not just exposing themselves. They’re exposing all of us. So we get that we’re connected. The good news being that we’re not just connected when someone acts foolishly, we’re also connected when someone acts wisely. Meaning that I truly believe that as you work to deal with your shit, heal your past, and connect with and act from your own good heart, somehow the entire world is changed for the better. Not to put any pressure on you (like, the entire world is affected by your actions), but just to remind you that you’re a powerful being. Call it The Butterfly Effect. Just remember that just as a virus can spread around the world, so can a good idea. So can love and healing.

Mother Teresa, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr. understood this. We think of them as extraordinary humans, but in fact they weren’t. Rather, they were simply souls living up to their full potential, souls acting out of the conviction in their hearts rather than out of fear. This is the benefit to going inside and knowing thyself, the benefit to becoming familiar with and expressing yourself, the benefit of The Path. For one thing, you know what’s in your heart. You learn what power it contains. For another, having met even the scariest parts of yourself and your life with compassion, you’ve learned that there isn’t anything to fear. Or at least that there isn’t anything you can’t face and handle. This is what true freedom is about, not whether or not you’re stuck at home under quarantine, but whether or not you’re free in your spirit. Wherever you are. Whatever your circumstances.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There is a force, a momentum that dances with all of us, sometimes lifting us up in the air, sometimes bringing us back down in a great mystery of starts and stops.

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Good and Beautiful and True (Blog #1083)

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This afternoon I saw my myofascial release wizard, and, phew, what a trip that was. By this I mean I cried. A lot. I don’t know. If you haven’t experience myofascial release or anything like it, I know it sounds odd. Marcus got a massage and cried. How strange. And I admit, it is strange. Hell, I’ve HAD myofascial release before and still think it’s odd. No, phenomenal. Phenomenal is a better word. This being said, when I had myofascial release before, it was by a lower-level practitioner, and for a shorter session. So maybe that’s the difference. Or maybe my body just wasn’t ready. That’s one thing I’ve become convinced of. If you’re body isn’t ready to let go, sweetie, you ain’t letting go. If you’re body doesn’t think it’s safe, it’s going to remain on high-alert.

High-alert. I guess that’s how I’ve felt for, oh, twenty-five years now. Granted, I’ve never experienced classic panic attacks, but I have spent ever so much time feeling nervous and unsettled, breaking out in hives, having headaches, and on and on. More than enough signs to let me know my body was, in a very real way, upset and needing attention. Like, Darling, we can’t handle this any longer. This being the go, go, going and self-pressuring. “Sometimes we keep ourselves busy so we don’t have to feel,” my myofascial release wizard (MFRW) said today as she was working on my neck and shoulders, which have been consistently tight for decades. “But what would it be like to let the weight of the world slip off your shoulders?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “It’s been there so long.”

This is one of the challenges of healing. We live with our our pains and problems so long that we get used to them. Not that they’re ever fun, but we become comfortable with them. We even identify with them. We say, MY headaches, MY hives. We say, I’M sick, I’M stressed. Whereas some cultures say, I’m experiencing a headache or sickness, thus making an important distinction. That you and your illness are not synonymous. Of course, this is a difficult perspective to keep in mind, especially when your body’s been hurting for years. And yet more and more I’m convinced that a body that’s hurting is a body with a story that desperately needs to be heard.

Where things really got interesting today was when my MFRW worked on my belly button. “I’m going to do what’s called an umbilical cord release,” she said, “and it’s your connection to your mother.” Well, before she really even got going, I started bawling like a baby, I suppose because my mother has been clinically depressed since I was in her womb and, consequently, she hasn’t always been able to be there for me like I’ve wanted her to be. And whereas logically I can say that I understand all this, that it’s okay, alas, my inner child, that little fellow that was in her womb, is apparently not big on logic. This is to say that the story my body told this afternoon was one of sadness, disappointment, grief, confusion, and even anger. Because so many times both my parents weren’t able to be there. Because I had to grow up “too fast.”

The more I allow myself to acknowledge and feel these feelings, the more I’m convinced that my inner child (for lack of a better term) is alive and well. That is, although my driver’s license, the mirror, and my bathroom scales clearly indicate that I’m a 39-year-old man, there’s very much a part of me that’s stuck in 1994, the year I was in a terrible car accident and my dad was arrested. The year I had to grow up. “What does that boy need?” my MFRW asked. “What does he need to hear?”

Sobbing, I thought, He needs to hear that he did a good job. (A great job.) And that it’s over now and he can relax.

Something my MFRW said that stuck with me today was that whenever the wind gets knocked out of our proverbial sails and our boat gets tumped over, we often blame the people we most care about. Like, You weren’t there for me. This is your fault. But the truth is that, most likely, they got knocked out of the boat too. Because shit happens. In my case, I was clearly affected by my mom’s depression, but so was she. Ever so much more than I was. So was my entire family. When dad was arrested, my whole world shifted. But all of our worlds did. This perspective doesn’t change the feelings and emotions that got shoved down all those years ago, but it does help me let them go now. More and more I’m convinced there’s never a good reason to hang on to all that shit anyway. People say that holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the object of your anger to suffer, and I’m coming to believe this is quite literal. Our bodies pay the price for our rage.

And sadness, etc.

To be clear, I don’t think the goal is to be free from any one emotion or the information it carries. I say information because I wish that years ago, even as a teenager, I’d been able to hear what my sadness and tight shoulders were telling me. Sweetheart, we need to be cared for. We need to lighten up. We need to know we’re good enough. This is valuable information, and why I don’t think the goal is to be free from our emotions. Rather, I think we need to experience them. To let our long-buried feelings finally have their say.

Lately I’ve had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and I freely admit that I don’t do the best job explaining it. It’s not that I get in a room, start talking about my history, and break down in tears. Rather, while in a safe place in which I feel comfortable, emotions like sadness, anger, and self-pressure (if that’s even an emotion) bubble up. Very much like the way a sneeze does. All of a sudden, you’re aware that your body has something to say, something to let go of. And you can either hold it in (ouch), or let it come out. Having gone through this process over and over again over the last month or two, the go, go, goer in me is ready to let it all out. Now. To let go of the tension in my body and experience, I guess, more freedom. Because I always feel lighter, looser on the other side of a release. And yet it appears that the body has its own timeframe for healing. As my MFRW says, “It’s baby steps.”

I used to read stories of healing and releasing like the one I just told and think there must be something wrong with me. Because I was try, try, trying and not getting the same results. Now I think it was just timing. “There’s a season for falling apart,” my MFRW says, “and a season for healing.” It just wasn’t my season yet. Granted, I was learning a lot, which I think gave me a solid foundation for my current experiences. That is, had I not read so much about the mind-body connection and the way our fascia stores our memories, I could have been seriously freaked out by all-of-a-sudden needing to wail or hiss or grunt. I could have shut it down. Which is honestly my first instinct. Because if I’m not all my pain and suffering, all my trying, all my tension, then who am I? And whereas I don’t have an answer, I’m willing to find out. Not only because I can’t keep going like this (twenty-five years is long enough), but also because I’m convinced it’s something good and beautiful and true.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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For I am a universe–large–like you are, and there is room here for all that we contain. An ego, of course, is small, and it is disgusted and humiliated by the smallest of things. But a universe is bigger than that, much too big to judge itself or another, much too big to ever question how bright it is shining.

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

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A couple things that have been on my mind today:

1. Shoved-down emotions

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

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

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

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

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

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

2. COVID-19

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

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

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

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

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

So let’s start acting like it.

And, of course, washing our hands.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perfection is ever-elusive.

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Are You Going to Hold on to That? (Blog #1071)

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After go, go, going for the last two days, this morning I woke up with a(nother) sinus infection. I can’t tell you how frustrated I get whenever this happens. (Although I know I do on a regular basis.) In addition to all the mucus, it just feels like I’m try, try, trying and getting nowhere.

No damn where.

This being said, after I got up and got myself together, I had an appointment with my myofascial release wizard (MFRW), and it was amazing. Which means I cried a lot. Seriously, there were so many tears, in addition to shaking, moaning, fist pounding, and foot stomping, all of which my MFRW says are normal reactions or responses to trauma that get can stuck in our body, in our fascia. Today as she was working on my right side, which has felt cinched up and scrunched down for over a decade, I absolutely fell apart, at the same time recalling a very specific and ancient stressful event from my childhood. And whereas it was momentarily uncomfortable, the release felt good.

Feeling like good things were happening, I asked my MFRW if she had any tricks for sinus issues. Thankfully, she said she did, and she began to slowly apply pressure across my face, stretching the fascia underneath my skin. Again, I got emotional. Then, when she held eucalyptus oil under my nose, I once again fell apart. (Later she said she didn’t think it was the scent that caused my reaction, but I’m open to the idea that, under the right circumstances, subtle energies can move mountains.) This release went on for a while and brought up memories of how hard I’ve tried over the years to, well, do just about everything–heal, be successful, stay in the closet. Once when my breathing changed and I started to stifle my body’s tears, my MFRW said, “Are you going to hold on to that, or are you ready to let it go?”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot today. This afternoon I spoke to my therapist, whom I’ve been having a lot of life-coaching type sessions with lately. This means we’ve been discussing career-oriented things and money, which is historically not my favorite topic. Well, today when the topic came up I realized that a lot of other topics came up with it. Sort of like how you mean to pick up one paperclip from a cup and end up picking up a number of them because they’ve gotten stuck together. Specifically, today’s conversation about my future career brought up my beliefs that 1) I work really hard and get nowhere, 2) life works for everyone else but not for me, and 3) I’m not worthy of success.

Now, from a logical standpoint, I know that none of these statements are true. And yet deep down I still have a reaction to them. This is is why I believe it’s one thing to get something in your head and another thing to get something in your body. For three years I’ve talked the internet’s ear off about my life’s dramas and traumas, and yet my body still had more to say about them today. Likewise with my issues around money and worthiness. More and more I believe this is the case for all of us. That our bodies have the final word.

Whether we like it or not.

I say whether we like it or not because I don’t LOVE falling apart in the arms of a total stranger. Nor do I like the fact that I have all these triggers around money. I’d much rather take a Tylenol for my aches and pains, act like everything is fine, and move on with my life. Alas, my body has clearly been crying out for help for decades and is no longer satisfied with the Tylenol or the “I’m fine” approach. If it ever was. Not that I didn’t take a Tylenol this evening to help with my headache (which I have in addition to my current sinus problems). You do what you’ve got to do. But more and more I’m convinced that because I’ve been shoving emotions down and been putting Bandaids on for years–albeit doing the best I knew how–it’s simply time to learn another way.

This is going to take some time, of course. And whereas I’m trying to be patient, it’s difficult. I want to feel better NOW. I want to let go of old beliefs NOW. At the same time, I’m terrified to move forward. Because my old beliefs, emotions, and even aches and pains are, well, familiar. Not that I like them, but I’ve grown accustomed to them. In a very real sense, they are ME. I’m willing to change, but I think, WHO am I going to be on the other side of all this? And, Am I ready?

Am I ready to let go of my old life?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"The heart sings for its own reasons."

Willing (Blog #1070)

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This morning I worked backstage for the national tour of Trolls Live! This isn’t as sexy as it may sound. My first official duty when I got to work? Sweep and mop the stage. Which, by the way, was covered in glitter, which one of the characters (Guy Diamond) farts out his butt. (Sheesh. Fart glitter. Toddler humor.) Anyway, just as I was really getting into the mopping part, a screw came out of my mop handle, and the head fell off. (I hate it when my head falls off.) So I picked up the screw, threw it away, took the mop out to my car, and repaired everything with a spare bolt and nut I found in my toolbox.

Well.

By the time I got back to the stage to finish mopping, a curtain (the main) had been lowered onto the stage. No problem, I thought, I’ll just mop behind it. But first I decided to look in front of the curtain, which is where the mop broke, just incase there was another screw or piece that had fallen out. Someone could step on it, I thought. Alas, one of the crew was behind the curtain, and when they noticed that someone in front of the curtain (me) was ruffling it, they sort-of started freaking out and (albeit gently) reprimanding that person (me again). “Don’t touch the curtain,” they said. “The doors are open. People are coming in.”

Of course, they didn’t know WHY I was touching the curtain. How could they? They didn’t ask for an explanation, and, being on the other side of the curtain and not realizing until “too late” that they were even talking to me, I didn’t offer one. This is an example of the idea that we all live in different worlds. I was living in the “I need to move the curtain to keep someone from getting hurt” world, and they were living in the “that curtain’s delicate and expensive, and the show’s about to start” world. And whereas there was a time I would have thought that their world was right and my world was wrong or vice versa, more and more I don’t see anyone else’s world as better or worse, morally superior or inferior, than mine.

Just different.

This being said, a part of me was still upset by the interaction. My Inner People Pleaser has been “online” for so long that it’s never fun (like, how exciting!) for me to be corrected. Plus, apparently my personality has been intentionally designed to be largely independent and function via an inner mantra that sounds like, “Don’t tell me what to do.” I accept this about myself. Not just because it resonates as true for me, but also because I’m tired of trying to change it. Not that I can’t improve or that I’m always right, but I am who I am. Accordingly, who and what I am IS right–for me.

Getting back to accepting myself in the above situation, years ago I would have fretted for hours, if not days, about what happened, thinking both that I had done something wrong and that–oh no!–someone didn’t like me. After almost six years of therapy, almost three years of daily writing and introspection, and just over a month of EMDR treatments, I’m happy to report that I got over it pretty quickly. My point being that you don’t have to be a slave to your emotional reactions forever. Your inner demons can be tamed and quieted. This being said, I truly believe that our emotional reactions only downshift once they’ve been given permission to speak and once we hear them.

Once we hear ourselves.

In Trolls Live! it’s said that one of the characters won (I think) the fuzziest hair contest in 2016, 2017, and 2019. “What happened in 2018?” one of the other characters says. The answer?

“We don’t talk about 2018.”

Alas, this is how most of us handle the distressing emotions and situations in our lives. We shove them down. Ignore them. Bury them. Cover them up. We don’t talk about IT, whatever IT is. And whereas I understand and am completely and utterly familiar with these strategies, they simply haven’t worked as a permanent and healing solution for me. What has worked? Talking about, feeling, and accepting every scary and uncomfortable whatever. Listening to and learning from my body, feelings, and emotions, however unpleasant or gross that process may be. Looking at IT. Mr. Rogers encouraged, “Feelings are mentionable AND manageable.” When you’re stuck in embarrassment or shame (I did something wrong), it can feel like you’re going to fall apart, to implode. But I can absolutely promise you that regardless of what you’ve buried inside you, you’ve been given an inherent wisdom that knows how to handle its resurrection and transformation.

Several minutes after the “you’re on the wrong side of the curtain” incident, I got excited about the fact that I was having a very ancient emotional reaction. Why? Because it let me know there was a part of me that needed to be heard, that I imagine has been wanting to express itself for quite a long time. That’s been wanting to take the stage and be my teacher. Along these lines, ore and more I’m grateful when someone pushes my buttons. Because they show me where my buttons are located. They show me the parts of myself I’ve been ignoring. (Thankfully, after all this time and trial-and-error–I now know what to do with this invaluable information.) Likewise, I’m even beginning to find gratitude for the pains in my body. Because they too are crying out for attention. And they make me curious. Like, Sweetheart, what’s going on here? What story do you have to tell me? What have I not been willing to hear until now?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Life is never just so. Honestly, it’s a big damn mess most of the time.

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Healing in the Blink of an Eye (Blog #1067)

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For the last month I’ve been meaning and wanting to talk about something but haven’t. Granted, I’ve hinted at it, most specifically by saying that I’ve been seeing a different therapist lately for trauma resolution. What I haven’t said is exactly how this therapist has been and is helping me. Sure, I’ve told my friends and family, but I haven’t written about it. Until now. Ugh. It’s not really something I want to do. Not because I don’t want to share my experiences (I do), but because I’m quite sure I’m not going to be able to adequately describe them. And I want to be able to adequately describe them. Because I think a lot of people could benefit from the knowledge.

So I’m going to try.

Let’s start here. Two years ago I read a book called Getting Past Your Past by Francine Shapiro, the founder of EMDR, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, a fairly well-known therapy that’s often used for the resolution of various types of trauma, including PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). According to Shapiro and from what I can remember, our past, unresolved stressful and traumatic experiences often and regularly negatively affect our current reactions and responses. For example, I’ve mentioned a number of times that I have a lot of money hangups, most likely because I was handed the family checkbook when I was fourteen and my dad went to prison. The idea being that early on my nervous system linked the feeling of “overwhelming” to finances, so that’s the way it’s responded to money ever since. Like, We can’t handle this.

Back to EMDR, the book recommended a number of self-help techniques, including creating a “safe” space for processing memories and crossing your arms across your chest and tapping in alternation to self-soothe. This “bilateral stimulation” is the crux of EMDR and is traditionally done by a therapist who moves their finger back and forth across your field of vision (eye movement) or taps one of your knees and then the other as you think about whatever it is that bothers you. The theory being that this back-and-forth activates and connects both sides of your brain and allows it to reframe stress and trauma in such a way that, instead of seeing past threats as ongoing, it sees them as finally over (desensitization and reprocessing). This brain connection can also be achieved with a moving light (light bar) instead of a therapist’s finger, or with little vibrating buzzers or pulsers (that you hold in your hands) in place of the taps. Or with headphones and audio tones that “ping pong” from one ear to the other.

You know, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

Other than the self-help exercises in the book, I didn’t actually try EMDR two years ago. I did discuss it with my therapist, but she didn’t know too much about it. Eventually, the whole thing got shelved. Well, a couple months ago I got (another) sinus infection and felt totally defeated. This is often the case when I get sinus infections. They are “that thing” for me, the thing that causes me to go down the rabbit hole of “I’m not good enough, I can’t take care care of myself, things will never get better, God hates me, and I’m doing everything I can but failing.” Anyway, I thought of EMDR. First because I realized that a handful of distressing emotions had long ago been lumped together with my sinus issues, and second because I remembered the book saying that EMDR can help with chronic pain. Later when I talked to an out-of-state friend who’s an EMDR practitioner, they said, “EMDR didn’t make my chronic health condition go away, but it did help it be not so overwhelming. After I went through the process, I stopped being paralyzed and started thinking, I can handle this. I can take care of myself.”

With that, and upon my friend’s recommendation to find an EMDR practitioner listed on the EMDR.com or EMDRIA.org website (because EMDR isn’t a trademarked process and, therefore, comes in many different flavors), I began my search, finally settling on a gentleman who “just felt right.”

My first appointment (out of four thus far) with him was a month ago, and it lasted two hours. For the first hour, we mainly talked. “Tell me why you’re here,” he said, and I told him basically what I just told you. Then we went through a lot of paperwork. Office stuff, but also a variety of tests, including ones on adverse childhood experiences (ACEs), social anxiety, borderline personality disorder, depression in its numerous forms, and PTSD. “In order to bill your insurance, I have to have a diagnosis,” he said. And whereas I tested high for traumatic events, the only diagnosis he could offer was “generalized stress.”

“That sounds right,” I said. “I live with my parents.”

The second hour is when things got interesting, and this is the part of the process (the actual EMDR process) I’m worried about being able to describe. Again, I’m going to try. However, before I do I’d like to say this, just incase you’ve had an EMDR experience or in the future have an EMDR experience that’s different from what I’m about to describe. Before we even began my EMDR therapist said, “I used the standard EMDR protocol for years. It’s good, it works, and it gets things done. But now I use a modified protocol that–in my experience–is better and gets things done faster.”

“I’m all for fast,” I said.

“Well, I think you’ll be amazed at how quickly your brain can work,” he said. Then he explained that in ideal circumstances whenever something stressful or traumatic happens, the brain “moves” the information or event from the emotional right side of the brain to the non-emotional left side of the brain. This is what happens during REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep, when you dream, and is why you can go to bed upset about something and wake up the next morning just fine, thinking, What was I so pissed off about in the first place? Well, it’s not that you didn’t have reason to be pissed off. It’s just that your brain PROCESSED the affair and, in so doing, took the charge, the zing, out of the equation. Like, yeah, shit happened, but so what?

I’m over it now.

Alas, sometimes our brain is unable to process our dramas and traumas because of something called “nodes.” Think of a street that has a road bump on it and how that keeps traffic from flowing smoothly across. Well, nodes are the road bumps in your brain that keep information from moving out of something called “a channel” in the right side of your brain to one in your left. EMDR removes the nodes.

Your brain does the rest.

As I understand it, traditional EMDR involves eight phases, including (but not limited to) creating a safe space, uninstalling old beliefs or cognitions, and reinstalling new ones. “Usually there’s a fair amount of talking,” my EMDR therapist said, “but you don’t even have to tell me what you want to process if you don’t want to. All you have to do is hold these little buzzers [one in each hand], close your eyes, and think of AN EVENT or FEELING that’s troublesome to you.” That’s the thing, he explained, our brains don’t store information based on time; they store or group information based on feeling (in a channel). So whenever something stressful or traumatic happens, the brain says, “When have we felt THIS WAY before?” and it subconsciously (out of your conscious awareness) brings up all the times in the past you’ve felt frightened, scared, intimidated, or whatever. “This is why you can be anxious or nervous or panicked or depressed and not know why,” he said. “Because you’re responding in the moment with the full weight of your UNPROCESSED past.”

Think about THAT.

Holding the buzzers that first session, I closed my eyes and focused on the fire that burned our family house down when I was four. It’s the earliest trauma and formative event (game changer) I can think of, I reasoned. Well, immediately I began to cry. Not just a little, but a lot. Full body kind of stuff. At the same time I felt overwhelmed, scared, frightened, and alone. Then–and this is the weird part–I started getting images of the dozens, if not hundreds, of times in my life I’ve felt these emotions. Once I heard a man with a photographic memory say that when he sees an oak tree he remembers EVERY TIME he’s ever seen an oak tree. The way you’d flip through the pages of a photo album. Well, it was like that. And then there was this time, and there there was that time.

This went on for thirty to forty-five minutes. Every ten to fifteen minutes we stopped for break, either after so many buzzes or when I was breathing too hard. That’s the thing, while holding the buzzers (that were continually going buzz, buzz, buzz) and thinking about my past, not only did I release emotions, but I also breathed heavily and, perhaps because I was getting too much oxygen, tingled throughout my hands, stomach, chest, throat, and head. Later I read that when being continuously bilaterally stimulated, some people “itch” inside their brains, theoretically because the brain is creating new neural pathways or “channels.” Getting back to our discussion about rapid eye movement, this new neural pathway creation is what happens during REM sleep and is what EMDR simulates. “But because you’re awake when it happens,” my EMDR therapist said, “you can CONSCIOUSLY CHOOSE what you want to process.”

Talk about amazing.

I just said I was thinking about my past, but that’s not really accurate. I started thinking about my past, and then my brain took over. Honestly, it was like I was watching a two-part movie. The first part being called Here’s Why You Used to Believe and Feel the Way You Did, and the second part being called Here’s What We Believe and Feel Now (Better). That is, while I was breathing hard and feeling all kinds of emotions (“The key to healing is feeling,” my EMDR therapist said), I was getting image after image of everything that had contributed to, among other things, my belief that the world was a scary place or that something bad (like a fire and total loss) was going to happen. And whereas I wish I could tell you all of those memories, 1) I already have on this blog over the course of three years, and 2) it happened too fast for me to keep track of. You know how a hockey puck gets bounced around on the ice from player to player?

It was that quick, too quick to hold on to.

It was like a life review, the kind they say you get when you die. Your life in fast-motion. But more than being a review, it was a revelation. Like, Oh! That’s the burden I’ve been carrying. That piece was heavy, and that piece was heavy. Then my breath slowed down, and there was an unloading, a cognition that, Sweetheart, it’s over now. And here’s what we learned from all that crap. This cognition, my EMDR therapist says, is what happens when your brain truly processes something. There’s a peace to it, a resolution, an over-ness. “Personally, I think Shapiro got the name wrong,” he said. “Instead of re-processing, it should simply be processing.”

According to my EMDR therapist, my brain processed–for the first time–the event I focused on that that day (the fire) and all the emotions associated with it. “We opened and ‘cleaned out’ that channel,” he said, adding that the channel would stay open until I fell asleep that night, at which point it would close. For-ev-er. “So don’t think or talk about anything related to it,” he said, “not until tomorrow. If something comes up–and it will–don’t focus on it. Distract yourself.” Which is part of the reason I haven’t discussed this until now. One the days I have EMDR, I’m sentenced to silence.

Since that first session, I’ve worked on 1) my feeling of powerlessness related to my sinus issues, 2) my feeling of hopelessness around other health problems, and 3) my issues on the topic of money. And whereas I’ll spare you all the (even longer) details, I will say that each session has been just as weird and helpful as the first. On each topic, my brain has zinged and hockey-pucked around and has shown me in pictures and feelings all the dots that have connected over the years to form my life, beliefs, emotional responses, and actions up until now. Every time, there’s been a huge emotional release. I’ve cried, heaved, sweated, stomped my feet, clenched my fists, snarled, twitched, and hissed, all things my body WANTED to do when, for example, I was a teenager and my dad was arrested (sinus issues/feeling powerless). After the release, there’s been the cognition, which usually shows up in archetypal or movie images. (I don’t know if this is typical or because I often think of my life as a story.) The prisoner being set free. The hero returning home after a long journey. The child being embraced by their family.

A deep knowing that “it wasn’t your fault.”

The result of my four EMDR sessions is that–on every topic–I feel better. In general, I wake up happier, lighter. I went to a dance last night and didn’t compare myself to other people, like I usually do. At times, I’m euphoric for no reason. It’s like a weight has been lifted. In terms of money, I literally walked into my EMDR therapist’s office nervous and afraid about the topic and walked out feeling on top of the world, unintimidated. One week my regular therapist brought up money and I squirmed, and the next week I brought it up on my own accord. “LET’S TALK ABOUT MONEY!” I said. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s like I’m a different person. Or like I’m the same person with different wiring. Painful circuits have been unplugged. Other, more useful ones, have been plugged in. “If you put all your beliefs about yourself in a jar and then removed all the bad ones, what would be left?” my EMDR therapist says.

“All the good ones.”

One of the reasons I’ve spent so much time writing about this is that, quite frankly, I never knew my brain (and body) could process and resolve trauma so quickly. (Has anyone ever told you that?) I think of it like owning a luxury car that can do zero to sixty in three seconds but never being informed, “Hey, you’ve got something powerful there.” And so you treat your car (yourself) like an old jalopy, never taking it (yourself) out of second gear. There’s a scene in Disney’s The Sword in the Stone in which Merlin the wizard “packs up” his entire cottage with a spell. “Higitus Figitus,” he starts singing, and every book, table, chair, tea cup, and sugar bowl begins to shrink, shrink, shrink and dance itself into his small carpet bag. (Mary Poppins pulled a similar trick in reverse.) By the end of his chant, what used to weigh a ton is as light as a feather. This is what processing really does, takes something huge and shrinks it down to size. THIS is what my experience with EMDR has been like. That fast, that magical. This is what we’re truly capable of. Healing in the blink of an eye.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our burdens are lighter when we share them.

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