On Rearranging Yourself (Blog #1045)

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I spent most of today working on a 1,000 piece puzzle. And whereas I didn’t finish, I did make good progress. Indeed, this afternoon I worked for several hours (at which point I took the picture below), and this evening I worked for a couple more. Ugh. When I get in puzzle-solving mode I lose all track of time. I skip meals, put off going to the bathroom, and delay blogging. I think, Just one more piece. Just one more section. Last year I completed a different 1,000 piece puzzle only to realize it was missing a piece. (So it was really a 999 piece puzzle.) Anyway, now whenever I can’t find a piece I convince myself it doesn’t exist. Then when I finally find it after looking “just one more time,” it’s the sweetest relief.

Earlier this week I bought a painting for four dollars (and a frame for the painting for eight), so this evening I set out to rearrange my “art wall” in order to accommodate it. And whereas I thought this would be a simple task, alas, it was not. Y’all, I spent almost two hours playing Tetris with my framed art, photos, and brooches, the main problem being that once I put the new painting above my bed I didn’t have a good spot for the old art that used to be there. FINALLY, after much frustration and upset, I decided to put the old art in my bathroom (above the toilet). After that, things were relatively simple. Well wait. Now that I think about it, they weren’t. Before it was all said and done, I hung or rehung a total of eleven framed pieces (two in my bathroom, nine in my bedroom).

Only four of the pieces on my “art wall” are in the same location they used to be.

Let’s hear it for trying new things.

I’ve said before that when you change one thing you change everything (and this is why we often avoid change), and this is what I mean. Everything’s connected. You buy one new painting, and it inevitably pushes your other ones around. Likewise, you get one new belief (like, I’m worthy of being treated well), and it can seriously upset your applecart. I mean, it sounds good to say that you deserve to be respected, but if you really believe that, what are you gonna do the next time someone (including you) disrespects you? Because this is where the rubber meets the road, where you have to speak up for yourself, have a hard conversation, or, if necessary, walk away.

Again, this is why most of us don’t buy new pieces of art, buy new pieces of art being a euphemism for change our beliefs. It’s not that we don’t like the idea of something new, fresh, and beautiful (I’m patient, I’m kind, I stand up for myself), it’s just that the rearranging we have to do in order to accommodate something new, fresh, and beautiful is seriously a lot of effort and often involves fallout.

Take money, for instance. Most anyone, myself included, would tell you that they’d LOVE to have more money. And yet most of us aren’t willing to do what it takes to have it. And no, I’m not just talking about getting a side-hustle. I’m talking about really getting honest about your relationship with money. For me this has looked and continues to look like digging into where, when, and how my beliefs about money started, realizing that despite the fact that I give myself a lot of crap about not being more “successful” in terms of worldly wealth, most if not all of the money concepts I have, for better or for worse, were handed down to me (by family, church, school, and society).

In terms of money, for decades I’ve had dreams about a particular person that I’ve always considered wealthy and successful. And whereas for years this person appeared in my dreams as far off or unapproachable, since starting therapy and unpacking my issues around money with my therapist, that’s changed. For instance, I’ve had dreams in which this person’s house has been for sale or I’ve been moving into their house, one possible interpretation being that their lifestyle is AVAILABLE to me. Last night I dreamed that, instead of me looking up to this person, THEY were looking up to me, literally serving me.

Keep working on the puzzle that is you.

As I see it, these dreams and especially last night’s dream mean that my beliefs about money are changing from “I’m intimidated” to “I”m in charge.” Better said, since this dream-person is just a part of my consciousness (and completely separate from the actual person), these dreams mean that my relationship with myself is changing. Earlier this evening I meditated on money (and relationships and all the things), and I realized that I’m accustomed to loss. Not that I’m used to always losing things or having people leave me, but it’s a FAMILIAR feeling. You might say it’s a comfortable one, albeit not a healthy or accurate one. All this to say that this is The Hard Work, the willingness to take an honest look at the beliefs that run your life and, if needed, change them by changing yourself. By rearranging yourself. This, of course, means carrying yourself differently, more confidently, and this is a scary and uncomfortable thing to do. Do it anyway. Keep working on the puzzle that is you until all your pieces fit.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If you think only girls cry or that crying is inappropriate for some reason, fuck you. Some things are too damn heavy to hold on to forever.

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Slow Your Ass Down (Blog #911)

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Twice last night I dreamed that I took a break from work and drove to In and Out Burgers for something to eat. Both times, they weren’t open. The second time, they’d locked up just minutes before I got there. The waiter, a real pimply faced kid with stringy blonde hair, didn’t seem to care that I was starving. “You’ll have to go somewhere else,” he said. “We’re closed.”

This morning I mowed a lawn then came home to eat. Thanks to intermittent fasting, this has been my routine for the last twelve days–wake up, do something for a couple hours, then–after noon–eat. I get this window every day, eight hours, to eat whatever I want within reason, and then the window closes. Currently it’s four-fifteen in the afternoon, which means the window is open. I just ate two handfuls of nuts and an apple, which means I’m still hungry. I’ve been hungry for twelve days straight. I mean, it’s not awful, I just don’t have that I’m-oh-so-satisfied-because-I-just-ate-French-Toast feeling.

But my pants fit, so there’s that.

This afternoon when I got home from mowing I noticed a plate of desserts on our kitchen counter. Our neighbor, who’s a witch with an oven, had just brought them over. “You should try this bundt cake with butterscotch rum icing,” my dad said. “Go ahead. Just dip your finger in it.”

“No,” I said. “Get thee behind me, Satan.”

This makes two days in a row that I’ve turned down a dessert that was sitting right in front of my face, just begging to be eaten. What is happening to me? After breakfast I thought, I wonder if I have the willpower (dedication, motivation) to keep this up for an entire year, until I’m 40. Just how bad do I want a rockin’ bod (instead of a rockin’ dad-bod)? What I finally determined was that I had the willpower to stick with things today and that I can worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Will there be exceptions made along this journey? Absolutely. I’m positively determined to not be a perfectionist about this physical transformation. Give me a special occasion, and I’ll tear up a chocolate cake. But I simply can’t believe that a weekday qualifies as a special occasion and expect to reach my goals. It’s why I haven’t made even one exception to writing this blog every day. I know myself too well. If I take a break for a  day, it’ll turn into a week.

Know thyself.

Getting back to the dream I had last night, it obviously had something to do with my diet. Any time I’ve quit cigarettes I dream about smoking, and any time I go on a diet I dream about cheeseburgers and cookies. It’s like my subconscious is saying, “Hey! Where’d all the good stuff go?” This being said, I really think the dream was driving home the idea that I can’t nourish or sustain myself with any sort of “fast food,” anything in-and-out. This applies to food, friendships, ideologies, philosophies, and work. No, it simply takes time to cultivate anything worthwhile, either inside yourself or outside yourself. It takes desire, will, intent, focus, dedication, dedication, and patience.

I know I said dedication twice. It’s really important.

God’s not a fast-mover.

In terms of patience, I think this idea often gets represented in my dreams as waiters in restaurants. That is, wait-ers, people who wait. I hate that this quality is so needed for everything worthwhile–skills we learn and develop, relationships we cultivate, diets we go on. I hate it, hate it, hate it as much as you do. And yet it’s simply the way of things. God’s not a fast-mover. It takes an entire year (by definition) for the earth to travel around the sun. It takes about ninety days for the seasons to change. But you think you can change faster? Bitch, please. Slow your ass down. Take a deep breath. Do The Hard Work. Wait. The universe isn’t in a hurry.

You don’t have to be either.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Any mundane thing–an elevator ride!–can be turned into something joyous.

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What Dreams May Come (Blog #564)

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Currently it’s 10:30 in the evening, and I have to be up at 5:00 in the morning in order to go out-of-town for a writing gig. I just ate dinner and am “almost” done packing. I hate packing thick, winter clothes, trying to cram everything into my little carry-on. But I also hate freezing my ass off, so I’m trying to take everything I own. My friend Marla suggested dressing tomorrow in layers, walking into the airport looking like the Michelin Man.

Sounds like a plan to me.

This morning I was up early to meet some handymen who are working on the home of my friends who recently moved. Well, they were working–they finished everything today. Anyway, while they worked I tackled a couple projects I’ve been putting off forever. First, I finished adding all my favorite “Quotes from CoCo” to the blog. When I started this task last week, I was over a year’s worth of quotes behind. Now it’s done. Phew–what a load off. Second, I color-coded the over 250 digital post-it notes I have on my phone. Now everything is categorized (Dance, Writing, Medical, To-Do) and easy to find. Lastly, I combined my digital dream journals. Previously, they were all spread out–in my phone notes, in my laptop notes, in Microsoft Word. But now they’re in one place, organized by date.

Eeek. I just love having my ducks in a row.

Recently I’ve been reading a book called The Three “Only” Things: Tapping the Power of Dreams, Coincidence, and Imagination by Robert Moss. The premise of the book is that we often say, “It’s ONLY a dream,” “It’s ONLY a coincidence,” or “It’s ONLY my imagination,” but these three things are actually powerful sources for our personal and collective knowledge and growth. So far, I’ve ONLY read the dream section, which explains that dreams can help us solve our problems, improve our relationships, heal our bodies, and feed our creativity, and this was part of my motivation for getting all my dream logs into one spot. This way, I can easily search for common themes and symbols.

The author of the book says that dreams about shoes are often insightful because shoes have soles–or souls. Thus images of shoes can communicate where part of our spirit may be lost or where our inner being wants to go (or travel). Fascinated by this concept, I searched my dream journal for shoe dreams, and here’s what I found.

In 2014 (before I started therapy), I dreamed that I had a pair of purple shoes on but put on another, more “masculine” pair over them. (Purple is the flagship color of homosexuals, Mom.) Later that year (after I started therapy), I dreamed that I was lining my shoes up on a fire-place. (Perhaps I was “warming up” to the idea of being more myself.) In another dream that year, I had my shoes in bag. (Again, getting ready to put them on.) In 2015, I dreamed that I was in a church I used to attend with friends I rarely see anymore and was wearing shoes that were too small for me. Then I dreamed that I got new shoes for Christmas. (In this dream, someone had been murdered, indicating that a no-longer-useful part of me had died.) In 2016, I dreamed that I was taking off my shoes to put on thicker socks. (I haven’t figured out my socks dreams yet, but my guess is they have to do with being comfortable in my shoes/soul/body.) Finally, in 2017 (after starting the blog), I dreamed I was putting on my socks, my shoes, and a dress shirt.

Since I took a long break from dream journaling, these are the only dreams I have recorded about shoes. However, to me they show a clear progression. At first I hid my true self, then I started thinking about being me, then I discarded the ideas and parts of myself that no longer “fit,” then I made some more adjustments, and finally I fully presented myself.

Often I’m baffled by my nightly dreams. Many mornings I wake up and think, What the hell did I eat last night? But by looking at my dreams OVER TIME, I see clearly that some part of me is speaking a definite, intelligible language, and it’s simply up to me to learn it. For example, I have A LOT of dreams about cameras and taking pictures. And even though I’ve never quite been able to figure them out, I keep having them, so it’s obvious it’s a symbol my unconscious likes to use. Well, last night I had ANOTHER dream about taking pictures and actually figured the camera thing out (I think). Cameras for me are about memories and PERSPECTIVE. (COINCIDENTALLY, perspective is one of the categories I used MOST on this blog.) When I use a camera, I decide what to zoom in or focus on and what to crop out. The takeaway then is that I have this same power with my memories and experiences. Like, Am I going to make a big damn deal out of this or focus on something more positive?

Now the dryer is buzzing, and I still need to take a shower and get to bed. Honestly I can’t wait–not just for my trip tomorrow–but also for what dreams may come tonight.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Kindness is never a small thing."

On Dreaming of Dead Bodies (Blog #519)

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I’d intended to do nothing today. Well, nothing except read, that is. You know, go easy on myself. Maybe take a nap, rest. And whereas that’s exactly what happened for the first part of the afternoon, the rest of the day has gone to pot. For one thing, our air conditioner broke, which means the house has been getting gradually hotter with each passing hour. And if that weren’t enough, our freezer stopped working too, which I noticed when I walked into the garage and stepped into the River Jordan.

“It probably just needs defrosting,” Dad said

“Like my sex life,” I replied.

So that’s been the evening. Right in the middle of dinner, the air-conditioner repair man showed up, then the freezer thing happened. So everyone’s been running inside and outside, the guy working on the air conditioner, and me, Mom, and Dad transferring all the food from the outside freezer to the inside one–cramming-cramming-cramming everything from TV dinners to chicken wings inside and–since all of it was covered in water–making a big damn mess in the process. Then we dragged the freezer into the driveway, hooked up the water hose, and sprayed the caked-up ice inside until it disappeared like all my hopes and dreams.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

Now it’s seven in the evening, and I’m straight-up irritated, mostly because I’d rather be reading a book or visiting some friends who invited me over earlier. But instead there’s the freezer project and this, the blog project. I mean, some days writing is a real source of inspiration and relief for me, and other days it’s just a pain in my ass. Like, there are times I’d like to chunk my laptop across the room and give the internet my middle finger. Seriously, I don’t recommend trying to become a better person. Just watch Netflix. Self-help and personal growth, let along sharing your every thought with the entire virtual world, is for the fucking birds.

And as if ALL THIS weren’t enough to get me worked up, now there are a million flies circling around me, the result of the back door being opened and closed so many times this evening.

Shoo, fly, shoo.

For two out of the last three nights, I’ve dreamed about dead bodies. In last night’s dream, I was trying to dispose of a dead body, first in a large body of cold water, then in a trash can. And whereas my therapist says dreams like this are good because dead bodies represent the discarding of no-longer-useful parts of one’s personality, they’re still not fun dreams to have. Again, in last night’s dream, there was an entire row of giant trash bins filled with trash. That’s good because it means I’m discarding a lot mental and emotional junk I don’t need. But still, there was a dead body–and all that trash–there was even blood. Talk about gross. Not exactly the best way to start your morning.

I say all this to point out–once again–that personal growth isn’t everything the books in the self-help aisle make it out to be. It can be a real bitch at times–ugly and uncomfortable. Because what do you do when a part of you–even a not-so-useful part of you–dies? What do you do when you’re USED to having a lot of mental and emotional STUFF around, then suddenly it’s no longer there? Personally, I find that part of me wants to celebrate The Great Letting Go, and part of me wants to hang on. Ugh. It’s so disorienting, so frustrating. You think, If I’m not that person with all that trash, WHO am I? And WHAT exactly AM I becoming?

I still don’t have an answer.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You really do belong here.

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Sometimes Your Teeth Fall Out (Blog #360)

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Last night while sleeping at my Aunt Terri’s house in Tulsa, I dreamed that one of my teeth fell out, a molar. I was chewing on something, and the damn thing split in half. Well, I was horrified. (I hate it when my teeth fall out.) There was blood and everything. As I was collecting the pieces, an elderly woman gave me several of her teeth as well. (Thanks, lady.) Still, I gathered up all the pearly whites, got in my car, and headed toward the dentist.

Y’all, today was another great day. First of all, when I woke up this morning, I had all my teeth. (Phew.) As if that weren’t enough, then I got to use them when my aunt took me to brunch at the restaurant where my cousin was our waiter. (It was delicious, and the service was exceptional.) Seriously, folks, molars are super handy to have, especially for things like–oh–chewing.

Don’t take your teeth for granted.

After brunch my aunt and I went shopping at a giant antique mall. “I’m good for about an hour,” I said, just before we went inside. Well, one thing led to another, and somehow we stretched an hour into two-and-a-half. Considering all there was to look at and be amazed by, it’s a wonder we both walked out with only one purchase a piece. (I got a book, and she got a book.)

After the antique mall, my aunt and I came back to her house, slipped into some comfortable chairs, and started chatting. Among other things, we talked about her job, her old neighbor (whom you can catch a glimpse of in the painting behind me in tonight’s selfie photo), my parents, and my therapist. We even talked about my dream last night, the one where my tooth fell out. Here’s what I said–

First, despite how awful it felt to lose my tooth in the dream, I figure the dream was positive, since my therapist has yet to tell me that one of my dreams wasn’t positive. Second, teeth typically represent power or our ability to “break down” and “digest” our experiences and problems, so usually dreams about losing teeth have to do with feeling powerless. (Having been unemployed and living with my parents for over a year now, I’d say that sounds about right.) But here’s where the dream gets interesting. For me, old people in dreams represent my old ways of thinking, my old ways of doing things. Well, the old lady in the dream gave me her broken teeth. In other words, she couldn’t handle her problems on her own. Even if she wasn’t, she acted powerless. I, on the other hand, got in my car (cars represent the direction your life is going) and headed to the dentist.

“So maybe you’re better at handling your problems than you’re giving yourself credit for,” my aunt said.

“I think you nailed it,” I replied.

By the time I left my aunt’s house, it was after nine in the evening. Y’all, I got over halfway home, and my aunt sent me a message. “Marcus, you left your laptop!”

Well, shit, I thought. I HAVE to go back. I haven’t blogged today.

So that’s what I did. I turned the car around, drove an hour to Tulsa, grabbed some late night food, and went back to my aunt’s house. (That’s where I am now.) Obviously, part of me is frustrated. I don’t love the fact that I wasted gas and toll money or that I forgot my laptop the same way I apparently forgot my toothbrush on the way here yesterday. (Thank God for my finger.) But if I’ve learned anything during this last year, it’s that life is FULL of detours and rarely goes as planned. As my mom said when I called to say I’d be home tomorrow, “Things hardly ever happen 100 percent like you think they will.” Plus, other than being tired, I’M OKAY. In the grand scheme of things, this is no big deal.

As I’ve continued to process last night’s dream, I think it’s interesting that I dreamed about teeth and going to the dentist while I was here in Tulsa. See, my uncle, who’s no longer alive, used to be a dentist. He was also a Boy Scout and a handyman. My aunt’s house is full of light switches he wired, pictures he hung up, you name it. I didn’t dream about him “specifically” last night, but I do think I dreamed about him generally, and here’s the important thing about that–my uncle (the dentist) was the type of person who always knew what to do. In this sense, I think my aunt was right–I think the dream was about recognizing that even when things go “wrong” in my life, even when I feel powerless, I can still come up with a plan or ask for help.

Surely we can all regroup and try again.

I also think it’s interesting that the car I was driving in the dream was a convertible. (I don’t usually dream about convertibles.) This probably has to do with being “adaptable,” being able to adjust to whatever life brings me. Again, life doesn’t always work out like you think it’s going to. Sometimes your teeth fall out. Sometimes and many times, nothing goes as planned. You find yourself backtracking, feeling like you’re wasting time on roads you’ve already been on, feeling like you’re powerless to do anything about it. But surely we can all adjust, surely we can all regroup, ever thankful that WE’RE OKAY and get the chance to try again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We're allowed to relabel and remake ourselves.

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