As on Purpose as Possible (Blog #974)

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Currently it’s just after midnight. Two hours ago I sat down to blog but got distracted by YouTube videos. Then, when I saw one of my friends post that they’d done some digital house cleaning, I decided to do the same. I did this several years ago, culling my Facebook friends list from 2,400 to 1,800. And whereas I didn’t have it in me to go through my entire list tonight, I did go through part of it and trimmed down–I don’t know–50 friends. Not that I have anything against these people. But if we haven’t communicated or even liked each others’ posts in ten years, well, that says something.

Hey, we can always try again.

One of the reasons I dove into this project tonight is that more and more I’m concerned with the management of my personal (mental, emotional, and spiritual) energy. Think of it this way. You can be selective about what you watch on television, but you can’t be selective about what the stations tell you when you have them on. Likewise, every person or page you follow on social media gets to broadcast into your psyche. They get immediate access. Look at my kid, look at my cat, the flu’s going around, that politician’s a jerk! Of course, in real life we’d never let 2,000 of our acquaintances march into our living room and say whatever they wanted for 5 minutes or even 15 seconds. Nor would we take the time to peer into our neighbors’ windows Gladys Kravitz style if it required leaving our couches, creeping across the street, and hiding behind their bushes–even if they invited us to. Why? Because it would take too much energy.

But, Marcus, it’s different online.

That’s exactly my point. It may SEEM different online, but it’s not. What’s draining is draining. Again, if you wouldn’t let someone vomit their political or personal rant on your dining room table, why would you let them do it on your newsfeed? Trust me, your mind, emotions, and spirit don’t discriminate. If you don’t believe me, think of the last time you got upset–lost a single minute of peace–because of what someone said online or how they reacted or didn’t react to something you posted. I don’t even have to ask if this has ever happened to you. I know it has. Because our virtual lives are becoming just as real, if not more real, than our actual ones. Which is all the more reason to be–what’s the word?–discriminating about how we live them.

Getting back to my physical life, this morning I had breakfast with my dear friend Kara. Kara and I went to high school together and have purposed to stay in touch with each other ever since. Consequently, our breakfast was delightful. Needless to say, if Kara were ON Facebook, I’d keep her around. Anyway, get this. While Kara and I were eating I noticed my friend Gwen at the table next to us. Gwen’s a fellow writer whom I met years ago through a magazine I used to work for, and we’ve purposed to stay in touch online (message occasionally, read and interact with one another’s posts). So when Gwen got up to leave and I said hello, it was the perfect thing (like, yippee!), exactly what social media is lovely for (true connection).

Conversely, and getting back to MY RANT about social media, I’ve seen Facebook friends in public before and not only not said hello, but avoided them. Or they’ve avoided me. Either way, we didn’t speak. Tonight as I was wondering whom to keep and whom to let go, I thought, If I wouldn’t talk to this person in a restaurant, I don’t need their stuff on my feed and they don’t need my stuff on theirs. In some cases I thought, But maybe (after ten years) we WILL interact, and then I definitely hit the unfriend button. Because that’s desperate, and that’s scarcity.

That being said, as my therapist says, life is long. You never know what’s going to happen. Sometimes people circle back around.

More and more, I’m learning to trust that whenever someone shows up in our experience (like at a restaurant), it’s time–and that whenever someone slides (or storms) out of our experience, it’s time. Once I had someone tell me that life was a series of attractions and repulsions. Like, go here, don’t go there. Friend them, don’t friend them. This isn’t about making anyone else right or wrong, of course. Nor is it about being right or wrong or better than or less than. It’s simply about doing what’s best for you, about keeping both your physical and virtual space as clean, nourishing, and on purpose as possible.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes life can really kick you in the balls and make you drop to your knees.

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The Steady Source of Heat Within (Blog #263)

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This morning while getting ready for therapy, I gave up my fight against winter and put on thick, wool socks and climbing boots. I refuse to have cold feet, I thought. Well, never let it be said that the universe doesn’t have a sense of humor, since it turned out to be a rather sunny day. Now therapy is over, I’m at the library, and I just took off my long-sleeved shirt in favor of the t-shirt underneath. My feet are absolutely sweating, my armpits are moist (yes, I said moist), and I’m about to start fanning myself like a Mississippi debutante in August.

But. At least I’m not freezing.

Last night I slept for shit. Exhausted, I tried going to bed early, around ten, but woke up a couple hours later and couldn’t fall back asleep until four. I don’t know how people deal with insomnia on a regular basis. God bless you. What I did was watch one documentary and three TED talks and scroll through Facebook until my thumb nearly fell off. As you know, social media is mostly cat memes, clickbait, and political bitching. (And your cute children, of course.) Sometimes I think it’s more stressful than helpful, more bad news than good. So long as I’m blogging, I don’t know that I could completely give up social media, but I’m considering adopting “stop scrolling” as my New Year’s resolution.

God knows it would save me a lot of time.

Currently I’m listening to one of my favorite songs, Africa by Toto (the band, not the dog in Wizard of Oz). There’s a lyric that says, “It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you,” and that’s what the idea of scaling back from Facebook feels like. If I’m going to call it what it is, it’s an addiction, something I can’t put down, something that–at least in its current quantity–takes more than it gives. More than once my therapist and I have discussed some online drama–something someone else said or did. You know how you see a picture of two people together and your mind runs wild. This is the stress I’m talking about it. Well, my therapist says, “Forty years ago, you didn’t have to deal with the drama of other people’s lives in this way. Maybe you heard some of the gossip at the local coffee shop, but it wasn’t on-demand, constantly at your fingertips.”

Even as it sit here, I keep wanting to pick up my phone, change tabs on my laptop and start mindlessly scanning my news feed. I guess it’s a way to check out, to leave the world I’m currently in and enter endless others. I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with this, but there’s also nothing inherently wrong with where I am right here, right now. The sun is shining, other people are working at their laptops, and I’m listening to 80s music. What more could a girl ask for? Still, I’m a little nervous–maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe it’s the fact that therapy often leaves me feeling raw. Either way, the nervousness makes me want to distract myself from it rather than actually listen to it or simply let it run its course.

I’m sure we all try to distract ourselves in one way or the other. We scroll through Facebook, we walk to the refrigerator or turn on the radio, we smoke a cigarette. Hell, if dealing with your feelings were easy, everybody would do it. In the documentary I watched last night, which was about a group of prisoners who participated in an intense meditation program, one of the guys said that you can spend your whole life distracting yourself, but sooner or later you’re left looking at what’s inside.

What are you really running away from?

Having spent a lot of time around meditation and self-help material, I used to think the goal was to get rid of all the uncomfortable, icky feelings. I’d think, If I can just be spiritual enough, I won’t have to feel nervous ever again (phew). Well, first–Good fucking luck, Marcus. Second, I’ve changed my mind about this. More and more, I believe one of the points of spiritual living is self-acceptance, and that means being able to welcome whatever arises in my external and internal life with open arms, or at least curiosity. Why do I feel this way? What can this teach me? What am I really running away from? (If the answer is me, we have a problem.) Naturally, these questions aren’t always easy to answer. Like putting on a pair of wool socks, getting to know yourself is often something you have to warm up to. But this is worth doing, I think, since the alternative looks like endless scrolling, coming to know the ever-changing temperatures of the world outside but never finding the steady source of heat within.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We all need to feel alive.

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Raising and Lowering My Standards (Blog #175)

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Currently it feels like everything is catching up to me. Earlier this week I spent four days working in a friend’s yard. Now the cuts on my arms and legs are starting to scab over, and the blisters on my hands are forming new skin, but my body is definitely still in shock from all the activity. As if that weren’t enough, I decided to cut out coffee and junk food yesterday. On the one hand, I’m really proud. On the other hand, I’ve already been tempted to self-sabotage with a piece of bread or chocolate cake–oh–fifty-six times today. Also, I’ve wanted to yell at every person I’ve come in contact with.

I’m sure that’s all very normal.

I don’t know exactly where I’m going here. This morning I ate a healthy breakfast, then did yoga for fifteen minutes and meditated for thirty. Getting back into yoga is a slow process. There are days when my body is right there, other days when it’s right there giving me the finger. Today is a finger day. My mood is cranky, my brain is full of fog, and my brain is full of fog. Did I just say that? See–this is what happens when a man is separated from his biscuits and joe. It’s not pretty.

In all my years of teaching dance, I’ve only come across a couple “naturals,” intelligent people who picked it up–mentally and physically–super fast. But one of them was X. He learned quickly, practiced often. Conversely, there was Y, a leader who took longer to find the beat than I’m taking to find a husband. In terms of skill, Y was the exact opposite of X. All that being said, X quit taking classes, for whatever reason. Y, however, kept coming. Week after week, he was there. Eventually he found the beat and made wonderful progress. As a teacher, I was proud of Y. Still, I would have loved to see X stick around–he had a lot of talent. What X didn’t have, however, was the interest or perseverance that Y had.

I guess this story is on my mind tonight because I don’t feel like I’m a natural at healthy eating or doing yoga. I feel less like X and more like Y. I’m thirty-seven now, and it might be time to admit that I may never have a six-pack or the flexibility of a junior-high cheerleader. Also, I know I’ve blogged a number of times about starting to eat better over the last six months, and there’s part of me that hates to bring it up again. I’ve obviously fallen off the proverbial sugar wagon here, and the last thing I want to do is become one of “those people” who’s always starting a diet or whatever.

We all know what happened to the boy who cried carbohydrates.

But–even though I’m not a natural–I am interested and do have perseverance, so I’m willing to “try again.” I guess the latest fuss is because a friend is going to take some pictures of me in a couple weeks. I told her I’d like some professional photos to start promoting my business page on Facebook. (If you haven’t liked it, please do so.) Anyway, I know two weeks isn’t enough time to become a Greek god, but it’s at least enough time for my pants to fit. Hey, if this last year has taught me anything, it’s the value of lowering my standards.

Ironically, I’ve been thinking tonight’s blog was about raising your standards. In dance and other endeavors, I’ve seen a lot of people quit. Maybe they get busy or run out of money, maybe it’s harder than they thought it would be. Once my friend Kara told me, “I don’t think we ask enough of ourselves,” and I think she’s right. Recently I had a student say over and over that they were a slow learner, that they couldn’t do any better right here, right now. Tonight in improv class, as part of a skit, I asked a girl to twerk. Ideally, I think she would have at least tried, but she pretty much left character and said, “I can’t. I can’t twerk.” Anyway, more often than not, it seems we argue for our limitations rather than our capabilities, and that’s where I think we could raise our standards.

We could at least try.

In my case, I’ve been raising my standards by telling myself that I can eat better, can do yoga, can get outside my comfort zone and go to an improv class. My therapist and I have been working on my negative thoughts about money, and I know I can do better. I don’t have it all figured out, but I have figured out that just because I believe something doesn’t make it true, so that’s where I’m starting. I’m willing to be wrong (for a change) and let go of old beliefs. Honestly, I think we’re meant for change. I don’t think any of us came to this planet to say, “I can’t” decade after decade and never try anything new.

God, wouldn’t that be boring?

In regards to lowering my standards, I’m learning that “I can do better” doesn’t mean “I have to do perfect.” It’s okay to start, fall down, and start over again. It’s okay to go slow and be bad at something. It’s even okay to let the process exhaust you and turn you into a grouch for a while, since even if you’re interested in and willing to persevere at something new, old habits usually go down swingin’. I guess new skin doesn’t form right away. Rather, the old has to fall off first. This, of course, leaves things raw and rough for a very necessary while, perhaps so we can grow and remember what we’re capable of.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There’s nothing wrong with taking a damn nap.

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don’t put a bird on it (blog #9)

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I spent the day with two of my friends from high school, Kara and Amber. The three of us live in different cities, but we make a point to get together and catch up several times a year. (We all love a good plan.) Our conversations always last a long time, but today I’m pretty sure we broke our personal record–we talked for nine hours. We laughed, we cried, it was better than Cats.

We started our reunion this afternoon at a coffee shop, but five hours later went to a restaurant called Mockingbird Kitchen. Appropriately, there were birds on everything, which immediately made me think of PUT A BIRD ON IT. If you don’t know, PUT A BIRD ON IT is a phrase made popular by the television show Portlandia. It has to do with the idea that you can take something unspectacular (like a simple tote bag) and dress it up and make it prettier than it actually is if you–well–PUT A BIRD ON IT.

I mean, just imagine how boring this coffee cup would be WITHOUT a bird on it:

For whatever reason, PUT A BIRD ON IT always makes me laugh. I like the way it rolls off my tongue. Plus, I have a dear friend who LOVES birds–like absolutely can not get enough of birds–and he’s always rearranging his decorations and knick knacks, so I love visiting his house and going on a bird hunt, seeing if I can spot a bird on a spring throw pillow, or maybe find a new statue of a fat bird he’s put on the back of his toilet. (Since this is my idea of fun, I should probably consider getting out more.)

Anyway, Kara and Amber and I spent a lot of time today talking about authenticity, this goal we all share to be open and honest and real and vulnerable, not only with each other, but also with the world. This goal, of course, is not an easy one. At least for me, I know that it comes in fits and starts. I’ve spent so much time feeling like I wasn’t complete, that a lot of my energy has gone into things like people pleasing and putting forth an acceptable social image, rather than simply being myself.

Whenever my therapist talks about Facebook, she always uses the word “presentation.” Like, it’s so easy to look at pictures of someone online and think that their life is perfect and that they have it all figured out. But the truth is, you’re only seeing what they want you to see, and as Paul Laurence Dunbar says, “We wear the mask that grins and lies.” That may sound a bit harsh, but I think it’s fair to say that few of us present a complete picture of ourselves to those around us, especially on social media. I know I don’t, at least until this blog started.

It’s not that I consider putting your best foot forward to be a bad thing. Most the time, I think what’s actually happening is that we take something we consider unspectacular and PUT A BIRD ON IT. We dress things up and make them look prettier than they actually are. But the problem is that we end up smiling when we’re actually falling apart. We say things like, “I’m fine,” when the truth sounds more like, “I’m fucking pissed.”

Close to ten years ago, I got obsessed with handwriting analysis, and I bought a lot of books on the subject. The theory is you can tell a lot about a person’s personality by studying their handwriting–how it slants, how big or small it is, how large the margins are. Well, one easy thing that anyone can do is look at a person’s signature and compare it to the rest of their writing. Ideally, they should look the same, but often they don’t. The explanation is that a person’s handwriting shows their true personality, but the signature shows the image they present to the world. The signature shows the mask they wear. The signature shows whether or not they’ve put a bird–on themselves.

When I first started therapy, I talked about how great it was. I mean, my therapist is hilarious, and we laughed a lot, and I saw immediate improvement in my life. “Everyone should go to therapy,” I said. Even now, I’m constantly saying, “My therapist says this,” or “My therapist says that.” Hell, I even have a blog about my therapist. But somewhere along the way, I started telling people, “I’m just kidding. Don’t go to therapy. It sucks.” What I mean by that is that productive therapy is difficult. It’s not easy to live an authentic life, to do things like be vulnerable, honor your emotions, set boundaries, and initiate confrontations. It’s much easier to PUT A BIRD ON IT.

All that being said, I think authenticity is worth all the hard work and being real is its own reward. There’s something beautiful, after all, about a simple tote bag that requires nothing but itself in order to be complete.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The symbols that fascinate us are meant to transform us.

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