On How You Move Mountains (Blog #985)

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Last night my dad and I went to the gym. I started off doing my own thing in a back corner away from Dad but eventually ended up beside him, me on an elliptical and him on a recumbent stepper. And whereas I was really going to town, breathing hard and everything, he was like, moving at a snail’s pace. So when we both wrapped up, I said, “You’ve been on that machine for FIFTY minutes, and I’ve only been on mine for FIFTEEN. And yet you’re COMPLETELY dry and I’m DRENCHED in sweat.”

“That’s because I’m in so much better shape than you are,” he said.

Everyone’s a comedian.

This afternoon I saw The Brainstem Wizard, the upper cervical specialist who’s currently changing my life. Well, to be clear, my nervous system is changing my life. My doc is just helping my nervous system out by getting my “head on straight.” For years I’ve complained about headaches, shoulder pain, back pain, and posture problems. In only two weeks, all these things are dramatically better. This last week I didn’t have a single headache. My shoulders are less rounded. Today I told my doctor that after each treatment I experience different sensations in my body. The first time I cried. Today I felt blood rushing to my head. “That’s how it goes,” he said. “It’s whatever the body wants to work on.”

What I appreciate about this form of treatment is that it views the body as innately intelligent. For at least a decade I’ve tried multiple ways to get the tight muscles in my shoulders and hips to loosen up with minimal results. Now I know those muscles were tight for a reason; my head was too far forward, and my body was trying to stay in balance. Well, now that my head is in a better position, those muscles that have been tight for years are beginning to loosen up. Just like that. Finally. Mountains are moving.

I wish I could say that this were a one-and-done miracle, but it’s more like a twenty-nine-and-done miracle, since twenty-nine visits over a year is what my doc suggested and what I agreed to. Considering my list of health problems has been growing the last few years and that my doc says his job is to take items OFF that list, the time and money I’m having to put into this are well worth it.

It’s always worth it to invest in your health.

With my 1,000th blog quickly approaching, I’ve been thinking about how I’ve changed for the better thanks to both nearly three years of blogging and nearly six years of therapy. Mostly I’ve been thinking about how although I’ve had a number of especially healing nights at this computer and especially healing days in therapy, I can’t put my finger on exactly WHEN I changed. You know how you look at yourself in the mirror every day. Sure, you notice a gray hair there, a little extra fat there. But until you whip out last year’s photo or try to squeeze into last season’s jeans, it doesn’t click that something’s different than it used to be. You think, When did it happen?

When did it not?

By this last question I mean that we’re always in the process of change. When it comes to going to the gym, seeing a therapist, or writing a daily blog, it’s not the individual visits or posts that change us, it’s the process itself. This afternoon I realized that I’ve recently checked out half a dozen books from an online library. Well, not only do I not have the time to read them, I also don’t have the desire. And yet my inner completionist says I should. My inner good student says there’s something to learn. But the truth is that no one fact or book is going to change me. It’s what I do with that fact or book, how I choose to integrate it into my life that makes the difference.

Along these lines, I have a personal beef with self-help posts with titles like “Twelve Thing I learned in Therapy.” Not because I don’t love a good list (I love a good list), but because I’ve read others’ lists and books until I’m blue in the face and know that lists don’t change you. Memes don’t change you either. Because they’re just words. This blog is just words. Even if they’re true words, they have no power. You, however, have plenty of power. You have the ability to take an idea and animate it. You can read “exercise” or “be kind” or “be honest,” and you can breathe your life into these ideas. Better said, you can BECOME these ideas. This is how you change yourself, this is how you change the world, and this is how you move mountains. Not with one part of you, but with the entirety of your being.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t pick and choose what you receive from life, and you can’t always accurately label something as bad.

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Settle In, Get Comfortable (Blog #968)

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This afternoon I finished reading the book I referenced yesterday, Activate Your Vagus Nerve: Unleash Your Body’s Natural Ability to Overcome Gut Sensitivities, Inflammation, Brain Fog, Autoimmunity, Anxiety, Depression by Dr. Navaz Habib. The book suggests several PASSIVE methods for activating your vagus nerve–like massage therapy, chiropractic care, and acupuncture–as well as dozens of ACTIVE methods for activating your vagus nerve–like belly breathing through your nose, humming or chanting, listening to music, gargling, practicing mindfulness or meditation, laughing and connecting socially, and exposing yourself to sunlight. (Important note: I said TO not IN.) I’m all about this active stuff. What can I do at home to calm myself down and heal?

More importantly, what can I do on a budget?

One thing I noted while going through Dr. Habib’s book was the fact that I’ve recently been organically drawn to several of his suggestions. For example, deep breathing, cold exposure, and yoga or pilates. I’ve said before that I believe not only that our bodies know how to heal but also that we are guided to what we need, and this is what I mean. When something is right for your body, I think you’ll be attracted to it. Now, does this mean you’ll wake up one day and start CRAVING broccoli instead of chocolate cake? Doubtful. But you’ll likely start thinking, That looks interesting. I should check that out. I should stop doing THIS and start doing THAT.

Follow your hunches.

More and more I don’t think healing, or at least the habits that promote healing, are complicated. For example, two things I immediately implemented–well, started–right after I finished the vagus nerve book were 1) installing blue-light blocking software on my laptop and phone and 2) listening to classical music. The idea behind the blue-light blocking software is that blue light signals to our bodies that it’s stay-awake time even when it’s not, so by installing a filter on your electronic devices (or turning them off altogether two hours before bedtime), you won’t disrupt your natural sleep rhythms. And whereas–I admit–my sleep rhythms are less than ideal, I can at least stop adding to the problem by staring at blue screen.

Instead, I can stare at a red one.

Currently it’s 10:30 at night, and I’ve been listening to classical music–Mozart–for the last two hours. (On my streaming service I found an album elegantly titled 50 Mozart Masterworks you Have to Listen to Before You Die.) And whereas I’ve never been a big “fan” of classical music, I’m enjoying this. I guess the idea behind the suggestion is that our bodies (and vagus nerves) respond to what we listen to. As a dancer, this makes sense to me. I listen to Lady Gaga and I feel and move fast and punchy. I listen to a waltz and I feel and move gracefully. Anyway, I’ve had violins and orchestras in my ears for a good while tonight, and I do feel calmer. It’s almost impossible to get upset or hurried about anything. The average song on the radio is three minutes and thirty seconds, and the first classical piece I listened to tonight (“Sonata for Two Pianos”) was twenty-four, so that fact alone told my brain, “You might as well settle in and get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

This is the perfect attitude to take toward life, of course. Settle in, get comfortable. Just now (well, nearly two hours ago) I got distracted and started downloading previously uploaded music from my music streaming service because I read they’ll soon be going out of business. And not that I HAVE to have all 1,715 songs I uploaded over five years ago (because I’ve lived this long without them), but I might as well. My point being that because this service won’t let you download your music all at once, you have to go album by album. Well, tonight I downloaded over forty-five albums, over 800 songs altogether, and–seriously–the classical music has helped. Normally I’d be pulling my hair out. But tonight I’m like, Whatever, there’s no hurry here.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some days, most days, are a mixed bag. We cry, we laugh, we quit, we start again. That's life. In the process, we find out we're stronger than we thought we were, and perhaps this is healing.

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We All Need Soothing (Blog #967)

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Well crap. All day I’ve been worn the eff out. The last few days I’ve slept more than a bear in hibernation, but I just can’t seem to get my rear in gear. Plus, my hips have been hurting. The weather must be changing. Oh no. Is THIS what it’s like to get older? If so, you can have it. Of course, it beats the alternative (dying). Still, I wonder if it wouldn’t help if I were a SMIDGE less cognizant of my body. That is, as a dancer I’m pretty tuned into every square inch of my physical self, and–I don’t know–maybe I wouldn’t make such a big deal about things getting slightly out of whack if I were one of those less self-aware people who, as my dad says, can’t find their ass with both hands. But just imagine how inconvenient that would be.

Especially when going to the bathroom.

But I digress.

I spent this afternoon doing laundry, first my clothes, then my sheets. That’s right, smart alecks, I’ve now washed my sheets twice this quarter. (Miracles never cease.) Anyway, while the washer and dryer were doing their thing, I started reading a book about the importance of the vagus nerve, the longest nerve (that’s actually two nerves) in your body and the one that’s the most responsible for regulating not only your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems, but also your heart, liver, and lungs. In other words, it’s important. And whereas I haven’t gotten to the part in the book about how to consciously activate your vagus nerve (and thus calm down your body and stimulate healing), I’ve heard before that humming or singing, as well as gentle rocking, help switch your vagus nerve from the “let’s freak out” to the “everything’s gonna be just fine” position. This makes sense to me. Think about how babies respond to humming, singing, and gentle rocking. Well, you and I are no different.

We all need soothing.

This evening I helped a friend update their website. Okay, fine, we technically started over, since their site hasn’t been updated in eight years. And whereas starting over obviously required more work, we had the best time. At least I did. I spent most of my college years engrossed in photography, layout, and design and have spent most of my years since engrossed in writing and communication, so this really was the perfect thing for my friend to ask me to do. I dove right in. That being said, since each website hosting platform is different, much of tonight was a learning curve–how to change font sizes and what not. But hey, I like learning and my friend bought dinner, so Hakuna Matata!

My friend and I worked on their site for–I don’t know–four hours, then I worked on it a few more when I got home. I guess I got hyper-focused on figuring out how to add pictures and link to their social media accounts and couldn’t let it go. (I’m no Elsa.) While I was with my friend I kept futzing around with text alignment–to the left, to the center, to the right. My friend said, “This is why you DON’T want someone who’s OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE designing your website.” I said, “This is why you DO want someone who’s obsessive compulsive designing your site.” Along these lines, my therapist says there are times when my perfectionism serves me. Because it allows me to attend to ALL THE DETAILS when redecorating a room or redesigning a website or whatever. I just need to be able to turn my perfectionism off so I don’t use it against myself. (Like, my nipples aren’t perfect, and all that.)

JUST ENJOY YOUR NIPPLES, MARCUS.

Now, the fact that I stayed up until two tonight working on my friend’s site when 1) I was already tired and 2) there’s not a deadline–I guess–means I haven’t quite figured out how to turn my perfectionism off. At the same time, it may just mean that I got excited about something, and there’s nothing wrong with that. We creatives (that is, all of us) need to get enthused about new projects now and then. My friend and I tonight were brainstorming ideas and ended up laughing, laughing, laughing. This is huge. Not just having fun, but also bringing LIFE to yourself, to others, and to your work.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can't build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that's going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is.

"

On Intuition, Healing, and Self-Care (Blog #940)

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Things I’ve been thinking about today–

1. Intuition and emotions

This morning while cleaning a client’s house I listened to a podcast that pointed out that intuition speaks to us in a number of ways. For example, gut feelings, dreams, and even messages from other people. Another way intuition speaks to us, it said, is through our emotions. Like a lot of people, I don’t love this fact, since getting information from your emotions requires feeling them first–and I’d much rather think about my feelings than feel them. Still, I’ve written before about how anger lets us know that our boundaries are being violated, so it makes sense to me that even uncomfortable emotions convey information, information we may need.

For example, yesterday I was absolutely exhausted. Consequently, I felt foggy and irritated. Well, for once, I listened to my body. Last night I went to bed at 11:15 PM and slept for almost twelve hours. And whereas I haven’t felt fresh as a daisy today, I have felt better. I’ve been able to keep my eyes open and even work all afternoon.

Framing my tiredness in the context of intuitive information, I can see that my body was letting me know something important, that I needed rest, that I needed self-care. So often we think of intuition as these big flashes of insight or visions or angels that come to us in our sleep. And yet the truth is that we’re being guided every minute of every day. Yesterday I said that life isn’t complicated, and apparently intuition isn’t either. It starts with how you feel right here, right now.

2. Healing

As I just mentioned, I slept a good part of the day yesterday. And whereas my first instinct when my body is dragging is to think that something is wrong, today I’ve been thinking it’s possible that something is right. Caroline Myss points out that when you’re sick, you really don’t know what it is that needs healing. Sure, you may have certain symptoms you want to go away, but what if those symptoms are there to alert you to something more important–poor boundaries with others, for example, or less than ideal dietary choices? Along these lines, I’ve been thinking that my body’s cry for sleep could quite simply be a cry for healing. That is, how do I know what’s being fixed while I slumber? I’ve changed a lot mentally and emotionally these last several years, and to think that my body doesn’t need a chance to “catch up” would be ridiculous. More and more I think that I don’t have to understand why my body’s asking for something, so much as I simply have to give it what it’s asking for.

3. Self-care and time management

When I went to bed early last night, the productive part of me was worried that I wouldn’t have enough time today to clean my client’s house and do everything else I had planned for this evening. (I’m having dinner with my family later then going out with friends.) Well, my worries were unfounded. This morning and afternoon I began tackling my chores. And whereas I’m not completely done, I’m close enough and can finish tomorrow. This afternoon I mentally worked out the rest of my day. I thought, If I work until five, then blog for an hour and fifteen minutes, that will give me thirty minutes to shower and get to dinner and so on. Two years ago I wouldn’t have planned at all. I would have waited until after going out to blog and, consequently, would have really been exhausted. But currently I’m not worried, frantic, or tired. I have twenty minutes to get this blog posted, then I can enjoy the rest of my evening. This is another way to care for yourself–manage your time well.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We can hang on and put everything safely in its place, and then at some point, we’re forced to let go.

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Something I’m Real Shitty at (Blog #931)

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Last night I worked backstage at Beautiful: The Carole King Musical until 2:30 in the morning. Guess who didn’t feel beautiful by the time it was over? That’s right, this guy. And probably everyone else who was there too. Yesterday morning we started load-in at 7:45 and didn’t finish until 4:15. Well, what went up in over six hours (we had a lunch break) came down in four or five. You should have seen it. As soon as the show ended, everyone started moving, packing up props, stashing away hair, makeup, and costumes, and taking down lights, backdrops, and speakers (they seriously bring all their own stuff). Slowly but surely, everything that was taken off the four semi-trailers was put back on, except perhaps several pieces of gaffer tape still stuck to the stage floor.

By the time I got home, it was three in the morning. I promptly crashed. And whereas I woke up at ten, I went back to sleep until noon (just in time for breakfast). I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for over two weeks now, and I thought, My body could the rest. That being said, I haven’t exactly taken today easy. After breakfast I ran to Fort Smith for a quick meeting and what I thought would be a short handyman project. Alas, it turned into a long handyman project and ended up taking most the early evening, until I had a dance lesson. Granted, I slowed down after my lesson, but I also frittered away a lot of time scrolling through my phone, which means it’s now past eleven and I’m still up writing.

My writing late at night isn’t unusual, of course. But today I’ve been thinking about something my therapist said recently–“Marcus, you’re real shitty at listening to your body when it needs a break. You’re real good at doing plenty of things, but you’re real shitty at that.”

I didn’t disagree with her.

This conversation started because of my recent and longterm struggle with sinus infections. I told my therapist, “I have a lot of goals, writing and personal projects. Recently I started dieting and getting back to the gym, and then this crud happened. So I don’t know if I’m supposed to slow down or push myself.” Well, my therapist did NOT recommend pushing myself. “Your body IS talking to you,” she said.

“Well, I know that,” I said. “I just don’t like what’s it saying.”

“Like, take a nap?” she offered.

“Yeah, like that.”

I’m going to try to do better about this. Normally when I see a free moment or day on my horizon, I fill it up. Or allow it to be filled up. But after I get through the next couple of days, my schedule looks free, and I intend to keep it that way. I plan to lie around the house, watch television. In a word, rest. Even if this doesn’t heal me, it can only help me. Like most Americans, I’m hung up on being productive, but my therapist says some of the healthiest countries in the world are the least productive by our standards. “They work an average of four hours a day,” she says. “What do you think about that?”

This concept, of course, is tough for me to wrap my mind around. I know I don’t have a regular nine to five, but I’m so used to being busy, go-go-going even when my body doesn’t feel like it. Because I think I should. Because I think I have to. Because–quite honestly–I’m in the habit of doing so. But I am determined to (gently) slow down. I’m determined to listen to my body, even if means working less, even if it means lying in bed for a week, a month, or more. I’m convinced–like packing a semi-trailer, healing takes time. It can’t–and won’t–be rushed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes you have to go back before you can go forward.

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Around the Bend (Blog #928)

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Well crap. This almost never happens. I have writer’s block. For the last thirty minutes I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. Twice I’ve written half a paragraph then deleted it. Nothing that’s happened today seems interesting enough to share. I went to Lowe’s to have three keys made. Then because they could only make two of them, I went to Walmart to have one key made. Then I got stuck in traffic at a railroad crossing. For five minutes I watched the longest train in the world choo-choo on by. The whole time I wondered which car would be the last. If only the cars were numbered in reverse order, I thought. Then you would know–fifty-two cars cars to go, seven more cars til the end.

I guess waiting’s easier when you know how long you have to do it. Maybe that’s why restaurants tell you, “It’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes before we can seat you.” It’s about expectations. If that vibrating coaster they hand you goes off any sooner, you feel like you’ve won the lottery. Any later and you are p-i-s-s-e-d, pissed.

Two weeks ago today I came down with a sinus infection. And whereas I had a pretty good attitude about it for a week, ever since it’s really gotten on my nerves and caused me to worry. A week, that’s about how long I like waiting–to get well, to get over a boy, to get into my smallest pair of pants. Of course, these things usually require more time. Not to mention hard work. This is something I’ve learned over and over again the last few years. Anything worth having–a healthy body, a healthy mind, a healthy waistline–is worth working for and waiting for.

In terms of my sinus infection, I do think it’s better today. This afternoon and evening I taught three dance lessons and never once felt drained or miserable. Granted, I’m still coughing and somewhat lethargic, but I can just tell things are on the mend. Sure, I could wake up sick tomorrow, but with any luck at all, this will NOT turn into another three-month-long ordeal like the one I had two years ago. That’s the main thing I’m wanting to avoid–being sick indefinitely. Not knowing how long I’ll have to wait to feel like a human again. Two weeks? I can handle two weeks.

Hell, I can handle more if I have to.

The truth is none of us know how long we’ll have to wait–to heal, to feel human again, to die. Our days are like railroad cars whooshing by. Until we live them, we don’t know what they contain or which one will be our last. When we’re hurting we can hope that the end of our particular suffering is coming soon, but who can say until–one day–our suffering stops. The last car passes. Then there’s room for something else to come along. A new train. Perhaps a better one. More and more I believe that no one waits in vain, that patience is a gift we give ourselves, and that good things are around the bend.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We can rewrite our stories if we want to.

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You Don’t Have to Be Perfect (Blog #927)

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Two weeks ago tomorrow I came down with a sinus infection. And whereas I’ve been trying all my tricks to get it to go away, it hasn’t. This morning the junk I coughed up was as colorful as ever, worse than the last few days. And whereas being sick is frustrating, I’ve realized the worst part about being sick is not the actual sickness, but rather my fear associated with it. For example, today I lay in bed and watched Season 2 of Pose, and this wasn’t difficult at all. What was difficult was imaging how awful the rest of the week will be if I don’t get better. I kept thinking, On Wednesday I have to work from sunrise until (probably) after midnight, and it’s just going to be hell. Never mind the fact that I COULD get better before then.

It’s funny how we sell ourselves on the worst possible scenario. As I’ve been struggling with this sinus infection for the last two weeks, I’ve all but convinced myself it’s going to turn into another three-month-long deal like the one I had almost two years ago. Thus all my horrible what-if scenarios. But hell, what if I am sick on Wednesday? I’ve worked all day with a sinus infection–and a fever!–before. It’s not something I want to repeat, of course, but it is something I know I can survive (because I have). The truth is we can survive almost anything if we simply take it one moment at a time.

I’ve realized lately just how much I tell myself I’m special–but not in a good way. What I mean is that whenever I get ANOTHER sinus infection–or chronic body oder or upset stomach–I tell myself that I’m the exception to the rule, that everyone else can heal but I can’t, that my body is an unsolvable mystery. But the truth is this thinking is a bunch of bullshit. I’m not THAT special. As Caroline Myss says, “Healing isn’t personal.” It’s something that’s available–at least possible–for everyone. If other people can find answers, I can find answers. You can find answers.

Forcing myself to hope rather than despair, this morning I went back to the website where I originally learned about the probiotic that has–up until this point–been so helpful for my sinuses. For over an hour I read about the author’s experience overcoming chronic sinusitis, as well as the questions asked and comments made by people just like me. First of all, I was reminded that I’m not alone; a lot of people struggle with their sinuses (or SOMETHING). No one gets through life without challenges. Second of all, I was reminded that “less is more.”

When trying to treat my sinus infection, my approach, however, has been “more is better.” That is, two or three times a day I’ve tried two or three different probiotics. But the website said this may be overkill. “Try one thing once or twice a day and see what happens,” it said. “It’s all self-experimentation.” So that’s what I did this morning–I tried one thing, one time. And whereas I can’t say for sure, I do think I’ve felt better as the day has gone on. I have more energy. I’m less overwhelmed. I’m not coughing as much.

Naturally, I hope things are on the mend. I’ll know more tomorrow. But even if I wake up hacking and coughing again, I’m convinced you don’t have to use a sledgehammer where a regular hammer will do. Four weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating only between noon and 8 PM) and eating mostly paleo, and although I’ve been a hard ass about it, I haven’t been a complete hard ass about it; I haven’t been a perfectionist. Yesterday I ate a full breakfast at 9 AM and didn’t stop eating until 9 PM. For the last three weeks I’ve eaten a fair amount of cheddar cheese (which isn’t paleo at all). But get this shit–this morning I weighed in and found out I’ve lost 9.8 pounds in the last 27 days. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. (I can’t tell you how thrilled the elastic in my underwear is.) But my point is that it’s possible to see results with smaller, consistently taken actions. You don’t have to go all-or-nothing. You don’t have to be perfect to heal.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Freedom lies on the other side of everything you're afraid of.

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Each Step is Necessary (Blog #866)

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This morning I finished painting a room I started painting a couple weeks ago before The Great Upset Stomach Incident of 2019. Well, I technically didn’t paint it today. Rather, I scraped paint off the windows then cleaned up the mess I made on the floor. Then I put the light switch and electrical outlet covers back on. This is all part of the process when painting a room–the details. With respect to this particular project, twenty percent of my total time was spent either getting the room ready to paint or putting it back together after having painted it.

After finishing that room, I started on another. This room was smaller than the first, but it still took over an hour to tape off the carpet around the baseboards, scrape off some old paint that was peeling inside the closet, and get the drop cloth down. Once things were prepped and ready to go, I was ready to go. That is, I took a break so I could see my chiropractor and grab lunch. Later, I came back and got one full coat of paint applied to that room. Ugh. I’d wanted to finish the whole thing tonight, but things always take longer than you want them to.

This is what tomorrow’s for.

Several days ago I figured out the rash on my arm is ringworm, a fungus. I can’t tell you how grossed out I’ve been about it. Anyway, I’ve been putting anti-fungal cream on it and, honestly, probably overdoing it. Still, although I have to admit it’s colorful to look at, I want the damn thing gone. Well, after three days of applying the cream, I couldn’t tell a difference. I thought, Maybe I’m doing something wrong. MAYBE IT’S CANCER! But then just like that, this morning, I noticed a significant positive change. Now it’s pink instead of red. There’s new skin forming. My point is that, first, if you just look at things as they are–a half-painted room, a fungus on your arm–you can’t always tell something good is happening. Second, if you’re not patient, you’ll probably get real frustrated and and think things are worse than they are.

There’s a famous tale that gets told a lot in spiritual circles. A wise man prayed that his teenage son would always be safe, and the next day his son fell off a horse and broke his leg. “How awful,” the villagers said, but the wise man stayed silent. Later when a war broke out and most the town’s youth were drafted to their ultimate demise, the wise man’s son was spared. How could he fight with a broken leg?

So often this happens in our own lives. We think something is awful, and it turns out to be good. Today my chiropractor and I talked about my current frustrations, the chief of which is that it often feels like I’m doing everything right and not getting the results I want (in my health, in my life). However, the truth is that I have a limited perspective. I look back on my life thus far and think, All of that was necessary preparation. So wouldn’t it make sense to think that what I’m living NOW–even with all its pains and frustrations–is also necessary preparation for what I will be living LATER?

Of course it would.

Each step is necessary.

My chiropractor’s suggestion was for me to see how much I could embrace. That is, often when things aren’t going how we want them to, we push against the universe. We go to work with a scowl on our face and curse and spit at every opportunity because we feel we’re being put upon by life. (Or is that just me?) But there is another option. Personally, I know I have it within me to ENJOY whatever it is I’m doing, whomever I’m around (well, almost). I can EMBRACE the moment–half-painted room, a fungus among us, this is my life right here, right now. I can recognize that everything is part of The Process. I can recognize that each step is necessary. I can recognize that all things are progressing, healing as they should.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our world is magical, a mysterious place where everything somehow works together, where nothing and no one is without influence, where all things great and small make a difference.

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Reverse, NEUTRAL, Drive (Blog #859)

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Two nights ago I threw up everything I’d eaten for the previous week. It was nasty. Thankfully, I haven’t thrown up since. I have, however, been dragging ass. Yesterday I spent all day in bed. Today, by the grace of God, I only spent half the day in bed. My energy is noticeably better–I took a shower today!–but it’s still not fabulous. This evening I taught a dance lesson and thought, I think I’m perking up, then I came home and promptly merged my ass with the couch. Ugh. You just can’t heal any faster than you do.

Ain’t that the truth, Ruth?

Normally when I’m sick I’m pretty impatient. I want to heal NOW. And whereas, of course, I’d like to feel better on the lickety-split, I’ve noticed this time around that I’ve been able to let things unfold at their own pace. I keep thinking of how for two hours Sunday night I felt nauseated and then how–all of a sudden–I was on the bathroom floor vomiting. It was so fast, so violent. My point is that my body was clearly ON IT, working swiftly to remove whatever was bothering us. Y’all, I’ve given my body a lot of crap over the years, and yet right there on the cold tile I had all this proof that my body was on my side. Clearly my immune system is like one of those muscle-y bouncers at da club. It’s ready to throw any offending party out on its rear.

Like, get the hell out. And stay out.

Now, do I wish that I’d thrown up Sunday night and felt better immediately? Of course. But in truth, I have felt better–progressively better. And when you consider that my body was just poisoned or otherwise invaded–and that in throwing out the bad guys my stomach also had to throw out some good guys–it makes sense that it would take a few days for things to regain their balance. Even if it takes a week, what’s the big deal? Few things in life can’t wait a week.

This perspective, that my body is actually on my side and constantly working to help me, helps make the healing process more bearable. Recently I heard that when things aren’t going well in your life, it may be because you’re in a time of transition. When I’m teaching dance I often compare a series of three steps to “reverse, neutral, and drive,” meaning the first step goes back, the second step stays in place, and the third step goes forward. My point in teaching it this way is to emphasize that each step is important–even the neutral one that doesn’t “go” anywhere. Anyway, lately I’ve been thinking about how important the neutral phases in our lives are.

I’ll explain.

A while back I had a confrontation that wasn’t fun for me. And although it wasn’t fun, it felt good to not bite my tongue. It felt good to be honest and let the chips fall where they may, where they needed to. When I discussed this confrontation with my therapist she said, “I imagine there will come a day when you’ll be negotiating a business deal, and this skill of speaking your truth and standing your ground will come in handy. So just think of this as practice.”

I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this advice, the idea that although my current circumstances aren’t glamorous, they may be preparing me for something better down the line. Lately I’ve been reminded of the adage, “If you want the things in your life to change, you have to be willing to change the things in you life.” To me this means that if you want your life to be different, YOU have to be willing to be different. Of course, like healing, personal change doesn’t happen overnight. It’s something that comes in stages. The future you is something you grow into a little bit here, a little bit there.

Recently I blogged about changing patterns, and this is basically what I’m talking about tonight. Applied to my example about confronting someone, you could say that I USED to have a pattern of letting myself be walked on like a door mat (reverse), but that for the last few years I’ve been 1) letting that pattern die out and 2) letting a new pattern develop–speaking up for my damn self (neutral)–so that I’ll be better able to navigate the rest of my life (forward). Y’all, my therapist is probably the most outspoken and confrontational person I know, but she says she used to be quiet as a church mouse. Well, shit, she didn’t just wake up loud and boisterous one day. She had to work at it. She too had to go through a neutral phase.

More and more, I’m appreciating the neutral phase, the transitional phase, the healing phase. I think when you realize there’s a point to it, it’s easier to sit with, patiently. When you remodel and redecorate a room, you have to let the paint dry before you hang the curtains. Otherwise you’ll have a damn mess. Likewise, when you want an entirely different life, you have to let your old one (your old patterns) dry up first. I mean, what would happen if you were a people pleaser and all of a sudden inherited a bunch of money? That’s right–goodbye money. Why? Because your pocketbook changed but YOU didn’t. So if it feels like you’re stuck and not going anywhere–good. Chances are you’re being given a chance to change, to learn something new, to heal. Take heart. Be patient. Your time is coming.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The symbols that fascinate us are meant to transform us.

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On Working with Your Body (Blog #815)

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I spent today with my friends Aaron and Kate. We were originally going to hang out on a river somewhere, but the weather didn’t cooperate. So instead we ended up with several other friends and acquaintances eating pizza and drinking Bloody Marys, and then later eating Mexican food and drinking margaritas. Y’all, this was an all-day affair, and I can’t tell you how currently stuffed I am. Stuffed with bad decisions. Seriously, I just got home thirty minutes ago, and my stomach is still cramping. I keep apologizing to my body. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just got carried away.

I just said I made bad decisions, but the truth is that I needed today. Most days I’m so uptight. Even when I don’t have a schedule, I make one. I make myself read, make myself write. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy these things. I’m no martyr. Still, I push, push, push. But today there wasn’t any pushing, other than carbohydrates and liquids down my throat. Instead, there was just story-telling and laughter. Nothing serious. Everything lighthearted. Just what the doctor ordered.

Well, everything lighthearted–and TUMS.

I’ve mentioned before that my neck and shoulder have bothered me for months. In short, although they’re not awful, they are really tight and sore. I get a lot of headaches. I can’t tell you how frustrating this is, especially since I’ve tried SO MANY THINGS in an attempt to feel better. Alas, healing continues to be a journey. That being said, this morning I woke up with a stiff neck and tried something different. First, I did my best to relax. This is difficult to explain, but my default, even when lying down is often to hold a certain amount of tension. So I tried relaxing–letting go–ten percent, twenty percent. I kept telling myself, Just give in a little. Nothing bad is going to happen.

Next I tried having a conversation with my body. I‘m going to be spending time with friends today and would like to not get a headache. I’d like to just have fun. Would you mind letting go? Could we try that? And whereas the relaxing and the dialoguing (monologuing) weren’t lightening-flash, Hallelujah-chorus moments, I do think they helped. I went all afternoon and most the evening without even thinking about my neck or shoulders. So maybe my body listened. Eight hours without a undue tension. This is a big deal for me. Granted, I have some tension now, but still.

Things could be much worse.

Now it’s nine at night, and I’m feeling better. My insulin has kicked in, and I’m not cramping anymore. Even the tension in my neck I just mentioned has slacked off a bit. The “big lesson” for me today is that my body is a living, breathing, moving, intelligent thing. So often I think of any tension I carry, any problem I have, as this static, solid thing. As if my body were carved out of a piece of stone and were completely unwilling and unable to change. But more and more I’m learning that my body is something softer (and no, that’s not just because I eat pizza), something wiser, something that’s on my side. Something that’s willing to work with me if I’m willing to work with it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our burdens are lighter when we share them.

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