Clouds Change Like That (Blog #969)

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Eeek. Maybe it’s the bed I slept in last night (I’m house sitting), but I’ve had a headache all day. And whereas I’ve been popping pills left and right (we all have our limits), nothing has helped. Well, I won’t say that. (You just did, Marcus.) Nothing has COMPLETELY helped. Still, it’s been a good and productive day. Last night I went down the rabbit hole of downloading a bunch of previously uploaded music from my streaming service because I read that the service would soon be going out of business (who knows if it’s true?), so, despite a few hangups this afternoon (like not having enough space on my hard drive and having to shuffle things around to my virtual drive), I got ‘er done.

Now I’m the proud owner of nearly 2,000 music files I’d previously forgotten were mine. Which brings me to another point. As I look back on my spending all day organizing this stuff, part of me thinks, Marcus, you’ve wasted your time. Three years ago you lost all your files in a hard drive crash and survived. Aren’t you just clinging now, holding on to what’s left? But another part thinks I’m not hurting anyone. And besides–I’m SIGNIFICANTLY less attached to the files than I was three years ago. I could lose them again tomorrow and be like, Whatever; eff it. Plus, today–if only for today–I’ve enjoyed listening to songs that used to make me smile and want to dance. That still do.

This afternoon while downloading music I simultaneously watched a documentary about Thich Nhat Hanh, the famous mindfulness teacher. (And yes, I know that my doing two things at once was anything but mindful. Life is ironic.) Anyway, in a particularly touching section of the documentary, a little girl asked Thich Nhat Hanh how she could stop being sad about her recently deceased dog. He said, “This is a tough question,” then explained that if you see a cloud that makes you happy and then it disappears, you’ll think, My cloud is dead. But with mindfulness you can realize that the cloud isn’t dead but rather transformed–into the water that you drink, even into a loved one. For me this means that everything changes–and nothing ever truly dies. Enjoy what you have while you have it. When it leaves you, try to let it go.

Try to move on with life.

Tonight I keep getting distracted by this music stuff. At eight I sat down to blog and thought I’d first “just look into” what it would take to switch streaming music services altogether. Well, the next thing I knew I got swept into converting all my playlists from one site to another, then I got wrapped up in the features of the new site. (So shiny!) When all was said and done, four hours had gone by, I’d cancelled my old subscription (that I’ve had for over five years ), and signed up for the new one (with the first three months free). And whereas some of my songs from the old service aren’t on the new one, it’s too late now. What’s done is done. There’s no looking back.

Goodbye old songs.

While going through this music-server changeover process, I started to drag it out–transfer a few playlists a day, think about my options, etc. But, again, I got carried away. Plus, I noticed my first service’s billing cycle renews in a few days, so I thought, It’s time to jump. Rip the bandaid off, Marcus. Let’s do this. Honestly, I think this is the best way to do things sometimes. Looking back, the most formative decisions I’ve made have been largely impulsive. Sure, I’ll take a dance class. I’ve GOT to see a therapist this week. I’m miserable–I’m closing my studio and selling all my stuff. I know, I’ll start a blog! I don’t regret any of it. This is my unsolicited advice: if your heart is calling you, don’t wait–dive in. See where life takes you. Clouds change LIKE THAT.

You can too.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We’re all made of the same stuff.

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On Perfectionism (Blog #869)

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This afternoon I started painting a bathroom at a friend’s house. And whereas I didn’t get one complete coat done, I did come close. Plus, I’m learning to accept less than perfect as okay. Often when I’m editing a piece of writing or choreographing a dance routine, I can tweak forever. Eventually, my eyes cross. I don’t know what’s good and what’s bad. This is, of course, because what’s good, great, or perfect in one person’s eyes is blah or whatever in another’s. Tonight I watched a video on YouTube with two million views. Eight thousand people gave it a thumbs up. Two thousand people gave it a thumbs down.

Who’s right?

Recently I saw someone on a online forum ask, “What’s the difference between a perfectionist and a person who just appreciates excellence?” Well, first off, only a perfectionist would ask this question, a perfectionist who wants to believe they’re not a perfectionist. Who me? Never. I just have high standards. This thinking is insidious. I should know. I’m a perfectionist from way back. That being said, things are getting better. Over the last several years I’ve come to accept, if not embrace, many things in my inner and outer worlds that I previously would have turned my nose up at. Do I still appreciate excellence? You bet your sweet bippy. I can absolutely marvel at a flawless body, a well-decorated room, or prize-worthy writing. But do I NEED everything in my life to conform to my extremely high standards in order to have inner peace?

No.

I didn’t participate in the online conversation I just mentioned, but for me the big difference between a perfectionist and someone who appreciates excellence is the perfectionist will act compulsively and the person who appreciates excellence won’t. That is, a perfectionist MUST have things just so in order to move on or sleep well at night. Earlier I was editing a piece of music, and my perfectionist got hung up because the cut ended on count 7 instead of 8, the end of the measure. Well, I almost threw the whole project out. This is crap, I thought. No one will like it. Because of one beat! When most people don’t even count beats of music–OR CARE. Thankfully, I just got over it. Seven is the number of perfection, I told myself. And it was that simple. I just needed to tell myself a different story. Now I have a piece of edited music I didn’t have before.

At the very least, it’s good enough.

Several years ago I painted and redecorated nearly the entire interior of a friend’s house. Weeks after everything was done, I realized I’d used latex paint on their trim instead of oil-based. Now, this is a common thing to do, but it’s not technically “the best” thing to do because latex doesn’t stick to oil-based paint all that well. It comes off it’s bumped into a lot. Anyway, I called my friend in a panic. “I fucked up,” I said. But my friend wasn’t upset. I guess because THEY aren’t a perfectionist, at least when it comes to their house. “Is everything better than it was when you started?” they said. “Yeah, it is,” I said. “Then I’m happy,” they said.

Contrast this to how uptight Barbra Streisand got when she remodeled her house. (You can read about it in her book she wrote about design.) She absolutely insisted everything be just so. Like, do it over. Is her house beautiful? You bet your sweet bippy. But is she any happier living there than my friend is in their home? I doubt it. Because a perfectionist is never truly satisfied. There’s always SOMETHING to improve. Talk about tiring. So for all recovering perfectionists, I suggest looking at something that would normally drive you crazy–a crooked picture, an unfinished project, a less-than-perfect selfie–and leaving it alone. Go ahead, try it. Find a way to move on with your life. The world won’t fall apart.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t stuff down the truth—it always comes up.

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