On Soulmates and Congruency (Blog #1029)

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Today I went thrift shopping with a friend. Y’all, we hit–let’s see–ten stores (and two restaurants) in six hours, and I came home with one brooch, a belt buckle, a paperweight, four books, and five picture frames. Talk about popping some tags. (That’s a Macklemore song reference, Mom). I can’t tell you how delighted I am with my purchases. And all for the bargain price of $12.50. And whereas I don’t know WHAT I’m going to do with everything I brought home (the belt buckle, for instance) I’m convinced I’ll figure out something sooner or later. For example, I’ve been sitting on an angel frame for over a month now, just waiting for the right brooch to pair it with. Well, the brooch I bought today was “it.”

It’s like every frame has its soulmate (broochmate), and you just have to be patient enough for them to meet each other.

Along these lines, lately I’ve been thinking that although, yes, some things are just ugly, most decorative items simply need the right background or environment. The above brooch, for example, just wouldn’t stand out the same against a yellow background, or in a frame three times as big. To put it succinctly, in terms of the final product, relationship is everything. A word/idea I think about a lot is congruency. Applied to my currents arts and crafts obsession, congruency asks, “Are all the involved parts working together to form a cohesive and eye-pleasing result?” If they aren’t, if the frame, background, brooch aren’t “meant to be together,” I don’t force it.

Setting them aside, I say, “Sorry, you just aren’t soulmates.”

This being said, I’m convinced most of us have the wrong idea about soulmates. Recently my mom and I were watching a tv show on which a man told his girlfriend he thought they were soulmates. The girlfriend, however, said, “I love you, I want to get married to you and have your babies, but I just don’t think we’re soulmates. I think my very first boyfriend was my soulmate.”

“Ouch,” I told my mom. “That was the wrong thing to say.”

Tact aside, who knows if these two are cosmically entwined? Hell, if they’re dating seriously, they probably are. At least in some respect. (No one comes into your life by accident.) Does this mean they’ll have butterflies for each other the rest of their lives? Doubtful. But then again, I believe that they could end up hating each other and still be soulmates.

I’ll explain.

There’s an idea in self-help and spirituality that your soulmate isn’t the person who makes your heart pitter-pat the most but is rather the person who causes your soul to GROW the most. This means the person who crawls under your skin, the one who’s got your goat, and the one you have the hardest time forgiving could very well be your soulmate. Could very well be the soul to whom–on the other side of the veil–you’re most indebted. I think about this a lot, since the older I get the more people there are with whom I’ve experienced conflict. And yet with each person and each drama, I’ve been challenged to find my voice or mature in some other way. And whereas from the outside it may have looked like a splitting off (please don’t call me again, Nancy), from the inside there was actually a coming together. That is, anytime you listen to and follow your inner guidance, you become more congruent. First with yourself AND THEN with another.

Along these lines, this afternoon at one thrift store I walked up on my friend while they were talking to the owner. He’d just handed my friend a piece of jewelry, and my friend said, “Did you make this yourself?”

Pausing ever so slightly, he said, “I did. Back in the 70s.”

Immediately I thought, He’s lying. Later my friend told me the man had said the jewelry was real turquoise, even though it was clearly just “turquoise colored.” And whereas it’s nice to have this confirmation, my point is that my intuition was talking to me, so the congruent thing for me to do was to not trust him to be honest, to not engage with him. Later, in another store, my gut told me a store owner was full of shit, so I literally walked away while he was talking to me. Normally the people pleaser in me wouldn’t have allowed me to do this sort of thing, but I thought, We know what happens when we let people verbally vomit on us because we’ve done that a hundred times before. Let’s see what happens when we take care of ourselves.

Well, I’ll tell you what happened. I walked away and I felt great. Absolutely fabulous. Then I ate this burger and felt even better.

Byron Katie says that a no to you is a yes to me. That is, when you listen to and follow your inner guidance, the answer is always yes. Yes, this brooch and this frame do (or don’t) go together. Yes, I know you’re lying to me. Yes, I’m walking away now. My therapist says when we respond honestly and authentically to people, we not only give ourselves a gift, but also give them a gift. “Even if we’re telling them to take a hike?” I say. “Even if we’re telling them to take a hike,” she says. “Because so many of us are lied to constantly. So it’s good to hear the truth for once, even if the answer’s no. Plus, whenever you’re authentic with someone, you give them permission to be authentic too.” Today my friend said, “How did you walk away from that rambling salesman so easily?”

“I’m not quite sure,” I said. “I just did it.” Looking back, I realize that something in me said, “Move,” so I moved. For once, I listened to me. For once, I was congruent.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Of all the broken things in your life, you’re not one of them–and you never have been.

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Me, The Eyeball Oracle, and Macklemore (Blog #286)

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Yesterday I drove to Sapulpa, Oklahoma, to meet my friend Elisabeth and visit The Eyeball Oracle, an iridologist named Phyllis who owns and works at Rock Creek Herb and Vitamin Company. An iridologist is someone who identifies problems in your body by looking at your eyeballs. (I’m not making this up. It’s on Google.) Since I arrived early, I was the first in line. When Phyllis showed up two hours later, there were at least a dozen other people behind me. As I understand it, this is pretty common with Phyllis, who’s been practicing iridology for over forty years (she learned from her grandfather, who learned from his father) and never charges for her services.

Y’all, it was fascinating–and easy enough, at least for me. After introductions, I sat in a chair and stared out a window while Phyllis  looked at my eyes from a few feet away. For maybe a minute or two, Phyllis took notes, stating that we’d first talk about what she observed, then there’d be time for questions. Get this shit. The first thing she said was, “Have you ever had an injury to your left leg or had pain in your right hip?” I said, “Well, the right hip has been a major problem these last several years, and when I was a kid my left leg was twisted, although it never hurts now.” She said, “That’s what created the imbalance, though.”

Phyllis recommended two products for my muscles and ligaments, one of which was a blend of calcium and magnesium and came up later when we discussed my sometimes-nightly leg jerks. In addition to my left leg/right hip issue, Phyllis and I went through eight things or categories she observed in my eyes–thyroid, pancreas, PH of colon, left kidney, stomach/digestion, right adrenal, heart, and (I think) memory/focus. (That was a joke.) For each thing we talked about, Phyllis had recommendations. For my thyroid, which she said contributed to my feeling of being overwhelmed at times, it was two supplements (amino acids) and one vitamin (D3). For my colon, it was black cherry juice (1/3 cup a day). This is something I appreciated, that there was just as much advice about diet (eat things that are red, green, and purple, not things that are white and yellow) as there was about herbs and vitamins.

The diet recommendations, Phyllis said, came from the Blood Type Diet, a theory which proposes that each blood type (A, B, AB, and O) should eat differently. She said, “When I was a child, my grandfather would put all this food on the table and say, ‘What does YOUR body want?'” Phyllis guessed my blood type as A. It’s actually O. There were a couple things like this, observations she had that didn’t “hit home” for me. For example, when she talked about my pancreas and asked if I ever felt my blood sugar drop, I said, “Not really. Sometimes I get light-headed, but it’s better when I stay hydrated and keep my electrolytes, like salt, up.” Phyllis didn’t seem fazed by this, and she wasn’t pushy, which I respected. On my paper under pancreas/blood sugar, she wrote, “Good.”

By the time we got to the end of Phyllis’s list, nothing had been said about my sinuses, which have been my major complaint these last few months and, well, my entire life. When I asked about them, Phyllis–first of all–didn’t say any of the things I’ve been afraid of hearing, things like, “You’re covered in mold,” “You have a yeast infection,” or, “You have an auto-immune disorder.” She didn’t tell me I was beyond hope or repair. Rather, she said that following the Blood Type Diet should help with allergies and mucus production, and the other products already discussed should help with overall immune function. Then she recommended a few products, two of which I’ve never tried before. At the end of the session, she gave me all her notes, on which she’d starred the “priority items.” She said, “Start with your sinuses if you want. Work on your muscles and ligaments later. Come back in six weeks, and we’ll see where you’re at.”

Here’s one of the four pages Phyllis gave me. I chose this one to share because I spent all day yesterday thinking she’d written “Carlos” under “Right Adrenal.” I kept thinking, What’s he doing there? Is that the guy who started The Blood Type Diet? Then last night I realized she’d actually written “Carbs,” as in, eat the good ones–not the bad ones. Carbs, Marcus, not Carlos. But I guess the advice would apply either way.

After I saw Phyllis, a couple other people went, then Elisabeth did. “She told me I had eyes that were sweet and kind,” Elisabeth said. “Well,” I replied, “She certainly didn’t tell me that.”

Not that I’m bitter.

The entire time I was with Phyllis, I never felt pressured to buy any products from her shop. That’s something a lot of the online reviews are clear about. If you want to go and just get your eyes read, you’re more than welcome to. That being said, I did end up buying five things Phyllis recommended–two for my sinuses, two for my thyroid, one for my muscles. I’d told Elisabeth, “Please don’t let me buy the entire store,” and she came through. She said, “You already have that and that, just different brands, and you can wait on that and that and try them later if you want.” By the time it was all over, I spent about as much as I would to see a doctor at a walk-in clinic, a little more than a hundred bucks. At Phyllis’s suggested dosages, I’ll need to restock some of the products in two or three weeks, but that won’t cost any more than all of the other shit I’ve tried these past few months, certainly not more than some antibiotics. None of those things, by the way, have made a remarkable impact on my health.

Phyllis said I should notice a difference within 72 hours, so I started taking the pills before I left the parking lot. One of the ones for my sinuses had eucalyptus in it, and within twenty minutes I could not only smell it, but also taste it when I burped. Now it’s less than twenty-four hours later, and whereas my sinuses aren’t completely dried up, they are better. Likewise, the dark circles under my eyes are lighter, and (I think) there’s less histamine in my face. Maybe I’m just hoping, but I can definitely tell something’s going on–there are sensations, pulses, in my legs and feet that aren’t normally there. I don’t know another way to say it.

I’ll continue to keep you posted, but here’s this, maybe the most notable difference–I woke up feeling great today. I’ve been off-and-on sick, gross, and dragging ass for over ninety days, but–simply put–I’ve been happy today. I’ve had good energy, I haven’t been tired behind my eyes, and I’ve felt like my problems are manageable, my body is capable of health, and the world is full of possibilities. This is no small thing, of course–huge progress. While making breakfast I was singing and dancing along with Macklemore. I feel glorious–glorious–got a chance to start again.

Part of me is dismissing what happened yesterday, thinking I wasted my time and threw my money away–again. I’ve been thinking, It’s just a coincidence, Marcus. You woke up feeling pretty decent yesterday. Maybe you were already healing. Still, here’s what I know. I’ve been working my ass off for over three months trying to get better–reading books, buying vitamins, doing visualizations. Most of this has been on my own, and it’s been exhausting. But this week is about changing that. Yesterday I saw Phyllis, and I see a new medical doctor later this week in order to cover all my bases. And I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all the help and guidance, from wherever it comes–from a lady who looks into my eyes, from a bottle of vitamins, whatever. From above. It’s good to feel better, of course, but it’s even better to know you’re not alone down here.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Confidence takes what you have and amplifies it. Confidence makes anyone sexy.

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Slow Down, Sweetheart (Blog #253)

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Currently I’m waiting for my daily selfie to load. My internet is slow, slow, slow. Last night I had a dream that I’d returned to school, only this time for a visit. After parking, I walked into a classroom. My best friend from high school was there, as was a teacher I didn’t care for. As I walked out of the room, I passed a kid who used to beat me up, stepped over a straight girl who fell in love with me a while back. (Bye, Felicia.) Wanting to go to the office, I ended up outside. There was another teacher I didn’t like far away, and a sort of picnic going on in the courtyard. I woke up when I got to the band. (There was a band.) The dream was uncomfortable because the entire time it felt as if I was walking through mud. Like my present internet speed, I was moving in slow motion. (Slow motion for me.)

I can’t tell you how frustrating it was.

Now it’s three-thirty in the afternoon, and I’m rushing, trying to get through this blog so I can meet my family for my lunch, their dinner. (This happens a lot when you live with senior citizens.) For the last twelve weeks Mom has been getting chemotherapy every Friday, and they always go out to eat afterwards. I’ve only met them a couple times, but today is kind of a big deal, since it’s Mom’s LAST chemotherapy. I mean, she gets to ring a bell! (Apparently it’s a thing.) Anyway, I technically just at breakfast, but I want to celebrate this milestone with my mama. Come on, creativity, come on.

Yesterday I wasn’t in the best mood. If nothing else is going on, this is usually a pretty good indication that I’m not feeling well. True to form, I did have more drainage than normal yesterday, and some of it was green-ish. (It’s gross, I know, but this is the place where I get to be honest.) Anyway, I stepped up the antihistamines, vitamins, and teas, and did another kimchi treatment last night. Y’all, I feel so much better today–less drainage, less color. Again, it’s not a miracle, but it’s close enough. The biggest improvement is that I woke up on the right side of the bed. I was dancing while making breakfast! Yesterday it was the blues, and today it’s Motown.

Things are looking up.

I’m still chewing on the dream I had last night, but my gut says it had it do with patience. In one sense, I know I’ve come a long way, slowly walked through the classroom of life and learned a lot of lessons. The bullies and fruitless relationships are behind me. Still, I’m not wherever it is I’m going (the office). As I said earlier, this is frustrating. In this sense, the dream isn’t a mystery. I constantly look ahead at where I’m not. Every day feels as if I’m not moving fast enough.

There’s a lot of magic around you.

Yesterday on Facebook my sister shared a song by Macklemore and Kesha. The song is called Good Old Days and says, “Some day soon your whole life’s gonna change–you’ll miss the magic of these good old days.” Honestly, I often forget to see the blessings of where I am because I want my life to change–I think it will be better, that I will be happier. I forget that there’s a lot of magic around me (a picnic with a band!), that I get to sleep in, let my body heal and find balance. Not everyone can do that. I forget that I can go out to eat with my parents, be close by while my mom is fighting cancer. Last night we both stayed up late and shared some egg rolls while watching our respective television shows. Who knows how many more times that will happen? So today I’m reminding myself that these truly are magic moments, moments not everyone gets to have, moments that even for me won’t last forever. Slow down, Marcus. Slow down, sweetheart. There’s a lot to enjoy here. And don’t worry, you’ll still get there–wherever that is.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A friend’s laughter takes us backward and carries us forward simultaneously.

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