Hopscotch (Blog #747)

Leave a comment

Today’s things–

1. I hopped

This morning I got up early to go to physical therapy. Normally I go in the afternoon, but today I had conflicts. (Don’t we all?) When I saw my knee surgeon last week, he said I could start jumping, so today my therapist said, “Let’s get to it.” Oh my gosh, y’all, talk about scary. The task was to jump over a little line of tape on the floor–forward, back, forward, back–but the thought of doing so was terrifying. I simply wasn’t sure my body could do it. But then, just like that, it did. I did. After I did it several more times, my physical therapist gave me a thumbs up. A thumbs up! Maybe in another week or two, I can win a hopscotch contest.

You know, against an eight-year-old.

2. I cried

Later this morning I saw my therapist, and when I told her I’d recently cried while going through some exercises in a self-help book (and cried some more while telling her about me crying), she told me to keep that shit up. “I remember when you never cried,” she said “and since there were plenty of times in your life when you should have, you owe back taxes.” Emotional back taxes. Ugh. This is a thing. Deal with your emotions now, or deal with them later. Not that this is easy to do, to feel your feelings. It’s not. I hate it. I’d much rather eat chocolate and usually do. Still, the benefit I feel every time I have an emotional release far outweighs the fuss I put up about not wanting to have one. So I try to stay open to my emotions. I say “try to stay open” because although I’m great at shoving down my emotions, I’ve never been able to purposefully make them come up. They either do or they don’t.

3. I got irritated

This afternoon I saw someone new at my chiropractor’s office who gave me some exercises to help my right shoulder, which has been bothering me. And whereas the person was helpful and kind, I found myself being annoyed by them. Maybe this is because they felt like chatting (“Where do you go to church? Do you have kids?”), and I didn’t (I’d just left therapy and had been crying). Plus, we’d just met. Some boundaries please.

4. I got un-irritated

Later I had a dental appointment (today I had a lot of appointments), and as much as I was irritated with the person at my chiropractor’s office, I was delighted with my dental hygienist. Granted, she’s cleaned my teeth before and we have a rapport, but she was the perfect mix of professional and friendly. Plus she was funny. Funny always helps. My therapist says humor really can be the most healing thing. She must be right–I left the dentist’s office with not only no cavities, but also with a better mood.

5. I helped pick out colors

This evening I helped my friend Bonnie pick out possible colors to paint her house, which is currently being remodeled in order to sell. It took forever, but we finally came up with several options that would compliment not only each other, but also what’s already there. Several times I thought, We’re getting nowhere, but then it happened. “What about THAT ONE?” one of us said, and we were off to the races.

Healing, I’m finding, is like this. You spend a lot of time thinking that none of your efforts are working. Your emotions are all over the place, like hopscotch. You can’t see how everything, how you, fit together. And yet it does. You do.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

When we expect great things, we see great things.

"

On Butt Cheeks and Teeth Cleaning (Blog #537)

Leave a comment

It’s six o’clock in the evening, and I’ve stopped at the library on my way to a dance lesson, telling myself, Thirty minutes to write is thirty minutes to write. I’ve been on this kick the last few days–a little bit at a time, a little bit at a time–so this is just one more example. Earlier today I did a light workout at home–some leg lunges, push-ups, and squats–followed by a good amount of stretching. I found the workout routine on Pinterest. Anything to get started, I told myself. And whereas I didn’t do the routine exactly as “prescribed,” I did do something.

Sixteen push-ups is sixteen push-ups.

After I worked out, I watched a YouTube video about people who have one butt-cheek that’s bigger than the other (like I do). Apparently this is a common thing and can be caused by hamstrings that do more work than they should (and thus keep the glutes from doing their job) or hip flexors that are too tight. Anyway, recently I read that you should basically stop thinking of yourself as an anomaly, like, My hips and my body are uneven, and that’s just the way it is, since somebody, somewhere in history has surely experienced the exact same problems you have and has PROBABLY written or created a YouTube video about their solutions.

In other words, there are answers out there.

This afternoon I got my teeth cleaned for the first time in fifteen months. This is something I tend to put off whenever I’m low on cash, but it’s also something that rises to the top of my priority list whenever I decide to be more health conscious. It’s weird–whenever I’m all into tacos and beer, I think, Screw my teeth. But as soon as I decide to clean up my diet and go running every day, I all-of-a-sudden think I’m more–what’s the word?–deserving of a plaque-free smile. I’m sure I could make something of that, the idea that I don’t think I’m “worthy” to go to the dentist unless I also have a flat stomach, but I’ll leave that one to my therapist. Rather, I think positive actions simply have a synergistic effect–if you’re taking care of yourself in one area, it’s easier to take care of yourself in another.

When I walked into the dentist’s office, there was some kid–a little girl, I think–absolutely bawling her eyes out. At least that’s what it sounded like. I couldn’t see her, but EVERYONE could hear her. This girl had some serious pipes on her, and whatever the dentist was doing, she didn’t like it one bit. Whine, whine, whine. It was terrible to listen to. You should have been there! The lady at the front desk even apologized on this girl’s behalf. “I hope you didn’t come here to relax,” she said.

Like anyone goes to the dentist’s office to relax.

Now it’s time to teach dance, and I’m still thinking about that little girl and how clearly traumatized she was by whatever went on today in her mouth. It was positively awful for me to “witness.” I kept thinking, Is whatever you’re doing REALLY that important? Couldn’t it wait until junior high, Mr. Dentist? Whatever, I’m glad it’s not my job. Still, despite the disruption to my personal peace, I’m impressed with anyone who can vocalize without inhibition, anyone who can let the world know, Houston, we have a problem. I’m in pain over here.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

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.

"

I, Marcus, Am a Brilliant and Prolific Writer (Blog #89)

1 Comment

A couple of months ago I had two cavities filled. The next day I developed a bacterial infection on my skin, and the doctor at the walk-in clinic said it was probably because my body was all “what the fuck?” after my sinus surgery and dental work. And then–and then–my teeth started hurting. After I had them filled. Even though they didn’t hurt before. Again, what the fuck?

Well, I went back to the dentist–twice. Both times he said the filled teeth were “high,” meaning they were striking each other too hard (you know–because I was using them to chew) and therefore staying inflamed. Anyway, after the second trip back to the dentist’s office (for a total of three trips altogether), the problem got–uh–better, but one of my teeth has still been sensitive to cold and room-temperature water.

So this afternoon I had an appointment to get my teeth cleaned and was not looking forward to it, I guess because I’m tired of going to the damn dentist. I mean, he’s a nice guy and all, but if we spend any more time together and he puts his fingers in my mouth one more time, I’m going to have to introduce him to my parents. Add all that to the fact that I was pissed off because his office has been harassing me with appointment reminders (I’m coming already!), and you’ll understand why I showed up today with anything but a good attitude.

But sometimes God throws you a bone. Y’all, my dental hygienist was amazing–kind, intelligent, funny–a real hoot and a half. Okay, fine, two hoots. She was that good. I’ll spare you the details, since stuff like that never comes across right when told to someone else, especially in writing. Suffice it to say she took wonderful care of me, made me laugh, AND explained what was going on with my teeth.

She said that teeth are actually alive, fed by roots. (They’re like a bunch of hard potatoes, really.) Anyway, she said that inflammation explained the problem when my bite was off, but now it was more likely that I was experiencing “normal sensitivity” due to the fact that one of my roots was ever so slightly exposed because my gum line had receded. (Hey! Get back where you belong.) So she put this vitamin compound on the root, which she said would help fortify it, give it a protective coating, and–kind of like a condom–cut down on sensitivity. (I added the part about the condom. She didn’t actually say that.)

When I left the dentist’s office, good mood restored, I met my friend Tim for a late lunch. Tim and I know each other mostly through Facebook, but he’s been a faithful and supportive reader of the blog since the beginning, so we decided to meet in person. And whereas everything went well, I’m sad to report that Tim closed his eyes for the selfie we took together. There was one photo with his eyes open, but he wasn’t smiling, so I went with smiling over open eyes because teeth are a thing today. (I hope this was the right choice. If I’d been to the eye doctor, I would have chosen the other picture.)

The rest of the day has been hit and miss. I’ve mostly been tired, and one minute I’ve been upset, and the next minute I’ve been sunshine and rainbows, even if my parents might disagree. In addition to sleep-deprivation, I’m attributing part of my mood fluctuation to working through the book I mentioned yesterday, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. One of the exercises I did earlier this evening required that I write, “I, Marcus, am a brilliant and prolific writer” ten times. I’m serious. That was in the book. The only part I added was my name, and there was a blank for that. (If you want to try it, it could be applied to any creative endeavor. You could say, “…brilliant and prolific artist, dancer, cook, or basket weaver.”)

Anyway, when I did the exercise–and this was the point–a bunch of negative thoughts came up, things like–you’re not good enough–you’re not as smart as that other guy–you’re getting too big for your britches. Well, obviously those thoughts have been lingering around in the shadows for quite a while, but when you put them down on paper, it’s like, Shit, now what?

This afternoon Tim gave me a t-shirt that had the word “writer” in the middle of it, along with a whole bunch of other words that might describe a writer or a writer’s life, things like storyteller, wordsmith, dreamer, and mystery. Honestly, in addition to being an extremely thoughtful gift, I think it came at just the right time, the same day as the assignment to make positive affirmations about myself as a writer.

I’ve been thinking this evening that labels are really important. We can pretend they’re not, but if you tell yourself every day that you’re a freaking fantastic writer, that’s going to have a dramatically different impact than if you tell yourself you’re a piece-of-shit writer. But I think it’s interesting that most of us are more comfortable with negative labels than positive ones.

Once I remember telling my therapist that sometimes I thought I was one of the best dancers in Fort Smith. She immediately said, “Probably one of the best in the state.”

“Isn’t it conceited to think that?” I said.

“No,” she said. “It’s reality. Our goal is reality. You don’t make yourself any more than you are, but you certainly don’t make yourself any less.”

Each of us is brilliant and prolific when it comes to something.

This afternoon when my dental hygienist told me that my teeth were alive, I was genuinely surprised. I said, “I’ve never thought of them as alive before.” So that’s been on my mind all day, and now it makes a lot more sense to me why they’d be sensitive, why they’d get inflamed, why they’d hurt. That’s what living things do. So tonight I’ve been trying to remind myself that I’m a living thing too. I have feelings, rights, and talents like you do. I know that may seem obvious, but so many times I’ve made everyone else out to be better than I am–more talented–more worthy–that I think a little positive affirmation is a good thing. I, Marcus, am a brilliant and prolific writer. And I’m really not getting too big for my britches here. I’m just growing into them for once.

The way I see it, teeth are a small part of the body, but they’re an important part. So I think this has to be true for me, and it has to be true for all of us. Each of us, no more but certainly no less than another, plays an important part or we wouldn’t be here. Yes, each of us is brilliant and prolific when it comes to something, worthy of positive affirmation, and–above all–a dreamer, a mystery.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

Things are only important because we think they are.

"