These Hundreds of Thousands of Words (Blog #1094)

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Phew. All day I’ve been tired, sad. And whereas I could blame lack of sleep and a number of other things, the fact is I’ve already begun to grieve the loss of this blog. Including tonight, I only have three more posts to go. I don’t know. It’s weird. Just like when a person dies you go through all those stages–denial, anger, grief, acceptance, bargaining–I’m going through those with this. Denial because, has it really been three years? Anger because of what hasn’t happened, hopes and expectations that haven’t been met. Ugh. All the feelings. The good news being that, so much more than three years ago, I’m open to all the feelings and what they have to teach me. Sweetheart, letting go is never easy.

At times throughout this process I’ve imagined that I’d, I guess, somehow be perfectly healed, or just perfect, on the other side of this thing. And that one of my final posts would be like, here’s how I did it. And how you can too for three easy payments of $127. Alas, if anyone ever pitches you such a deal, run don’t walk away. Because the fact is that no matter what a person learns, they are always and forever still growing. Still a work in progress. As much as people like me may hate it, there is no perfect to get to. If it does exist, perfection is like the casserole I made for dinner tonight. A little bit of everything. One big delicious mess.

With cheese.

This being said, I would like to take this blog as an opportunity to “sum up” what I’ve learned or how I’ve grown as a direct result of this project. My idea being that, although I despise numbered lists and bulleted sub-headings, I’ll go through my blog “categories” one by one and write a few sentences or paragraphs about each one. As these categories became self-evident early on and new ones haven’t been added in maybe a year and a half, I’ve come to see them as themes, or what this time in my life has been all about. The lessons I’ve been learning and doing my best to embody.

So here we go. I’m just going to shoot from the hip. And I’ll try to be brief. (Yeah right, Marcus.)

1. Abundance

Ugh. Does this have to be the first one? This has been a toughy for me, since, as a result of my traumas, I grew up believing that if you love something, just wait, it’ll be taken away from you. And yet my therapist, who has a real hard on for abundance, has shoved it down my throat. Yes, things leave, but other things come around. Thankfully, I have made progress. For one thing, money isn’t terrifying to me anymore. Even though I don’t have much of it. Although now I imagine if I did I wouldn’t be scared of it. It’s just paper. The most important thing being, however, that I really do believe deep down that I’ve been given an abundance of talent, love, help, knowledge, wisdom, and resources (both internal and external) with which to make my way through life. Creatively, I’ve been given an abundance of ideas. This is what counts. I know it’s rough when your bank account is strapped, but don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

2. Affirmations

A lot of self-help books are huge on affirmations, looking in the mirror and saying, “I’m beautiful, rich, and forgiving.” Or whatever. And whereas I’ve tried this shit more times than I care to admit, it hasn’t been what’s worked for me. Instead, the affirmations that have turned my life around, rather than being forced into me, have come out of me. That’s what this blog has been about. Sweetheart, be patient. I’m here for you. So if you like the idea of affirmations, go for it. But don’t open a book to find them. Open your heart.

3. Archetypes and Personalities

More and more I see the world through the lenses of “we’re all different” and “we’re all the same.” And whereas I don’t subscribe to one particular personality system, it’s helped me to be able to label people with archetypes (diva, drama queen, addict, pimp), since it allows me to get impersonal about their behavior. Or even mine. (Of course I’m worried about my outfit; I’m an artist!) Additionally, the more personality systems I study, the more I realize that every archetype and personality type is not only neutral (although it can be animated positively or negatively), but also necessary. God knows we don’t need everyone to an anal-retentive control freak. But God also knows the world would be a much sloppier place without those of us who are. (Wash your damn hands.)

4. Authenticity

This is a buzz word these days, and one my therapist actually dislikes because it’s so “hip.” To me it equates to being honest, even and especially if that honesty looks like anger, sadness, or confusion. You know, the emotions we hide behind our masks. Alas, it doesn’t seem to be something we can achieve every minute of every day (certain niceties are required in a polite society), but it is something we can strive toward. Being real. Being ourselves. My only other thought about it is that I’ve often been as surprised as anyone else when I’ve been able to be assertive or–here’s another word my therapist hates–vulnerable. Like when I cry in public or admit my faults (which, I agree with my therapist, isn’t being vulnerable, it’s being honest). Meaning we often don’t know what our authentic selves look like until they reveal themselves to us.

5. Balance

Is required and looks different for everyone. How do you know you’re out of balance in any area of your life? Your body will tell you. Learn to listen to its subtle and not-so-subtle messages. Additionally, pay attention to your relationships. If they’re full of drama, contention, or anything but an underlying peace, something is out of whack. Chances are you’ll never be able to hold the center point forever, so just keep your eyes on the middle. The rest will take care of itself.

6. Boundaries

My therapist calls boundaries the Holy Grail of personal growth. And whereas I used to think I had them, I realized I didn’t. Pro tip: if you can’t say no or if you tell the most personal details of your life to complete strangers (or vice versa), you don’t either. So get some. Learn to not only say no, but hell no. Figure out what you’re worth and don’t settle for less. Get in touch with your soul, do whatever it says, and never, under any circumstances, sell it. For one thing, it’s not yours to sell. For another, you’ll always regret it. How do you do these things? By learning to say no, hell no. And don’t worry if you “mess up.” Life will, without a doubt, give you another opportunity to excel. As with all things, having good boundaries is a process.

7. Coco’s Favorites

These blogs are my personal favorites. Many are already tagged as such, but I’ll be adding others as I work my way through reading all my old posts.

8. Creativity

People say they’re not creative, but I’m convinced we all are, even if it’s just in the way we make up a story about how we’re not creative, or what someone did that ruined our lives, or how awful things are (when they’re really not). Of course, creativity is better expressed through writing, dancing, knitting, planting, decorating, or whatever, and I’m certain our souls MUST, somehow, expand themselves through creating. So first stop and notice WHAT you’re creating (dinner, drama, dissent), then think about what you’d LIKE to be creating (an encouraging environment, a business, a hilarious blog). Then CHOOSE something different.

9. Dancing

Is good for a hundred reasons. Do it. Even if you don’t like it, consider that you were made to move. Some way, somehow. Your very heart BEATS. Tune into the rhythm of your life. If you ARE willing to give dancing a try, remember what my mentor Maggie tells her students. “Let dancing love you.” If not dancing, then let something, someone. Please, open your heart.

10. Dream Interpretation

I wish I were a master at this or had some of the experiences the people who write all those books about dreams do. Lucid dreaming, predicting the future, and whatnot. I don’t know, my therapist says I have the “most auspicious dreams,” so maybe it’s just easy to think someone else’s life is better or more fabulous than yours. Regardless, I do believe our subconscious/inner wisdom speaks to us a thousand different ways. Through dreams, synchronicities, hunches, bodily sensations, feelings, emotions, and even thoughts. So it’s whatever floats your boat, whatever you’re willing to listen to. Just know that it’s not all as random as it seems. Know that you can trust yourself. You’re wiser than you realize.

11. Emotions

Are not something you primarily think about. They’re something you primarily feel. Also, I hate to break it to you, they’re not something that go away when you shove them down. Like, they just hang out in the shadows. In your shadow. And whereas I wish I had a surefire way for coaxing them out, I’ve learned they come up when they’re ready. The best thing we can do is to listen. Be curious. Love, or at least make space for, whatever arises. Including frustration, anger, grief, sadness, and anything else that gives you snot bubbles. Because that’s your inner wisdom talking. For example, anger often means “get some damn boundaries.” (See above.)

12. Encouragement

Whatever you’re going through, I promise you’re not alone. Yes, your situation is unique to you and is your cross to bear, but it’s not the first time it’s ever happened. In Alcoholics Anonymous they say, “You’re only as sick as you are isolated.” Meaning that a burden is automatically lifted when you stop trying to carry it yourself. So please know that people love you and are rooting for you. Granted, they don’t always know what to say, but I guarantee there are people who would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. People who will cry at your funeral and feel that something important, something they liked, is missing from their lives when you’re gone.

13. Facebook Live

This is where I’ve put the few live videos I’ve done and where I’ve read, out loud, other stories I’ve written. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll do at least one more when this is over.

14. Gratitude

Is often something those self-help books try to force. Don’t worry, be happy. Alas, I’ve found that gratitude, like an affirmation, works best when it springs naturally from the heart. A humbling voice, it says, “Sweetheart, you have everything you could ever need and more.” What’s more, I’m convinced this voice is always there, available even when we are most down. It says, “Life sucks, but we’ve been given this breath, and with this breath we will make it to our next. Or make it home.” So again, listen to your heart. (Not your head.)

15. Growing Up

Involves letting go of the need to blame, being your own parent most of the time, taking responsibility for your life and choices, and sucks. But is absolutely necessary. Also, it’s natural. Stop fighting it.

16. Hope

As stated in The Shawshank Redemption, “is a good thing, maybe the best of things.” So please, please, please allow as much room as is humanly or even divinely possible that even your most challenging circumstance can turn around for the better. On a dime if heaven so sees fit. Along these lines, pray for miracles and expect them to show up.

17. Improv Comedy

Is worth trying or at least taking note of. Because, like life, it requires that you think on your feet, play well with others, and not look back. Audiences may not be forgiving, but improv teaches you to be. So what if the show didn’t go well? It’s over. (Everything in your life is over.) Why is this a good thing? Because now we can play another game.

18. Letting Go

Is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. Because we like what we like and we want it last. Our relationships, our stuff, our identities, our stories and judgments about ourselves and others. Our blogs. But nothing lasts. We don’t get to keep a thing. So work on enjoying whatever it is while it’s here, then letting it go. The way the sun sets, the way a storm ceases. With grace.

19. Myths and Fairy Tales

Aren’t just cute little stories. Rather, within them are embedded the mysteries of life, our personalities, and our struggles. Best thing I ever heard on this topic was that your three favorite movies reveal the path your life is on, and I believe this more and more. Recently through EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) I realized one of my favorite movie characters (for almost twenty years now) was not only hung up on integrity (like I am) but was also embarrassed by his station in life (like I used to be). The idea being that you’re drawn to these characters and their stories for a reason. Your inner wisdom is nudging you forward, giving you a template for what’s possible. Be willing to take the trip.

20. Patience

Is almost harder than letting go. But is one of the most useful traits you could ever hope to develop. Because although the universe is capable of turning on a dime, it rarely does. What’s more, it rarely does what you want it to, when you want it to. Pro tip: the less you insist on having everything your way, the more patient you’ll be. So, in the words of Nancy Byrd Turner, “learn to labor and to wait.” Give yourself the gift of time. To grow. To heal. Nature does not proceed in leaps, and neither do we.

21. Perspective

If I could give everyone one gift, it would be the gift of perspective, the gift of being able to perceive whatever it is thats bothering you (including yourself) in a different way. Alas, since I can’t, go see a therapist. This is what they get paid for. But seriously, what if you could put on a pair of mystical glasses that allowed you to see everything in your life, even the rotten stuff, as heaven’s gift to you? What if you could turn your viewpoint upside down and really see that there’s nothing in your life by accident and that–if it’s there–it’s there for a reason? To challenge you, to grow you, to change you, and maybe even the world, for the better? What if you could look at the mountain you’re facing and, rather than asking God to remove it, absolutely know you were meant to climb it? And then put your boots on. This is my encouragement. Pick up a book, go to church, or bang your head against the wall, not until your circumstances shift, but until your perspective does. Because that’s when you will.

22. Relationships

Seems to be the medium through which everything happens. The bullshit, the learning, and the healing. So look alive. Like or not, no one is alone. We’re all in this together.

23. Self-Acceptance

Means coming to love yourself warts and all, not putting up such a damn front, and being gentle with yourself and others. It means accepting every part of you–even the ugly, angry, and sad parts. The weird thing? The more you accept yourself exactly as you are, the more you accept others and the world exactly as they are. And vice versa. This is why Jesus said don’t judge. Because that which you hold against someone else, sooner or later, you’ll hold against yourself. But as you accept That Which Is Unacceptable in yourself or another, That Which Is Unacceptable becomes your teacher. All parts come bearing gifts. Hold out your hands.

24. Spiritual Practice

Looks different for everyone but is something I’m convinced we all long for and participate in somehow. Maybe one person does it in the kitchen, the way they lovingly prepare the perfect meal to feed their family. Maybe another does it in a chapel. I grew up as a Christian. Last night I prayed the rosary. Now I don’t know what to call myself. More and more, the labels are unimportant. It’s the experience I’m after, the inner knowing that I’m part of something bigger than myself. The conviction that every time I take a breath, God breathes with me. I’m after what the mystics know, the truth that every life, every rock, and every molecule is both sacred and holy.

25. The Physical Body

This could be an entire series of posts. And has been. Suffice it to say that every experience we have on this planet is granted to us through our physical organism. And whereas my personal temptation has been to ignore my body’s signals (information, guidance, wisdom) or be mad it at for hurting or being sick (not good enough), I’ve learned that it is the master and I am its pupil. I am in its classroom, and I must play by its rules. So more and more I’m learning to love, honor, and take care of my body, this gift I’ve been given. Granted, it’s easy to compare yourself to others and find fault with your body, but then you miss The Mystery. Then you miss the wonder that is you.

26. Therapy and Healing

Is actually a thing. And whereas I could go on and on about different therapies and modalities I’ve tried and succeeded with, really, it all started the day I picked up the phone and called my therapist. One little choice that was really a big choice. “I think I need help,” I said. Thankfully, my therapist was a good fit for me, and her office became a safe place, a sacred place, where I could begin to put myself back together. And whereas I’ve done a lot of work on my own, I think this is a huge part of the process. Having a witness. Not someone that does the work for you, but someone who sees you and believes in you. Maybe more than you do. Someone who is willing to stick with you through it all. Another big part being what my therapist told me that first session. “For this hour we’re going to do two things: sit in truth and not judge ourselves.” So whatever path you choose, I suggest taking these two gems with you. The truth (it will set you free) and non-judgment. I promise, you’ll get further faster if you do.

27. Transformation

Is not only possible, but necessary. Just like a caterpillar can’t stay a caterpillar forever, we as humans can’t stay our old selves forever. Indeed, we’ve been designed to grow, change, transform, evolve. To forget that which is behind and press forward toward the mark. To be burned in the ashes and rise again. To die on the cross and ascend three days (or three years) later. This is written in our stories, and this is written in our cells. So just find a way to accept it. Then get on with the process. Set your foot upon The Path. Entertain the idea that you are more (insert positive adjective here) than you ever thought possible.

28. Travel Writing

Hasn’t been a huge part of my journey or this blog but is still worth mentioning. One lesson from traveling being that, just like that, the universe can take you on a trip, put someone on your path, or put you on someone else’s. Just like that, you can be in a whole new world. With a whole new perspective. JRR Tolkein said, “Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or secret gate.” Believe in this magic. Trust that as one journey ends, another is beginning.

29. Writing

Isn’t for everyone, but is for everyone. At least, words are for everyone. Personally, these words, these hundreds of thousands of words, have changed my life. Once a writer friend pointed out that I was literally writing into existence the life I wanted to live. Sweetheart, hang on for one more day. Things will get better. Lately I’ve been hashtagging all my posts #healing. And whereas I’ve thought of these statements and labels as simply my way of hoping or just description, well, in the beginning was the word. Seriously. Think of the world you create when you say something is “possible” versus the world you create when you say something is “impossible.” Notice how your thoughts, feelings, emotions, attitude, and actions change depending on which world you decide to inhabit. Crazy, I know. And that’s just one little word. Now, have the words I’ve written these last three years MADE my life change? I could never prove that. But my life has changed, and surely it’s at least partly due to the fact that at some point I started telling myself a different story. A story I wanted to hear. One of healing, forgiveness, self-acceptance, hope, transformation, and transcendence. A story in which I was the hero and there was a happy ending.

And surely anyone can do this.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We may never be done, but that doesn't mean we'll never be complete. And surely we are complete right here, right now, and surely there is space enough for the full moon, for you and for me, and all our possibilities.

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We March Forward (Blog #1089)

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This morning I woke up a full two hours before my alarm went off. Feeling crappy. And whereas I thought it was probably due to the fact that I was fasting and hadn’t eaten in over thirty-six hours, I convinced myself I had COVID-19. Oh my gosh, y’all, it was awful, just imagining going into the kitchen (and touching every doorknob along the way) to take my temperature, discovering I had a fever, then spending the whole day aching and hacking. And giving “the lung eater” to my elderly parents, of course. If they die, my sister will kill me, I thought. Anyway, not wanting to find out I’d won the coronavirus lottery, I just lay in bed for over an hour. In terror.

Finally, I convinced myself to get up and take my temperature. Y’all, it was 97.1. Not even close to a hundred.

So I celebrated (and broke my fast) with coffee and oatmeal and a banana, and shortly thereafter felt fine. Just like any other day. When I told my sister about how terribly this virus is affecting us hypochondriacs (not the mention the people that actually have it), she said, “Boo for paranoia.” This afternoon I saw my chiropractor who works with emotions, and when I told his wife about my scare this morning (I, along with the rest of the world, clearly don’t have much else to talk about these days), she said, “Isn’t the mind a powerful thing?”

“Yeah,” I said, “it can really scare the shit out of you.”

God knows I’ve scared the shit out of myself so many times it’s not even funny. (Okay, it’s a little funny.) What’s the Mark Twain saying? “I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” Amen. For all the physical illnesses I’ve dealt with over the years, no illness has been as bad as my fears about how long whatever it was would last, or if it would come back again. Well, okay, that stomach virus I had for ten days was pretty awful. But still, even at the worst of it, there was a part of me that was okay, that knew what to do. That’s the thing, we always have an inherent wisdom that knows how to survive in times of crisis. Cancel your appointments, it says. Drink lots of fluids. Get some rest and try not to shit the bed.

The good news is that as I’ve consciously worked to resolve and heal my past dramas and traumas, clean up my relationships, and cultivate peace, self-awareness, and self-acceptance, my tendency to awfulize has seriously decreased. Not that I can’t get worked up at times, especially during, I don’t know, a pandemic, but it’s not as often and doesn’t last as long as it used to. I’m just more calm.

Honestly, I imagine this is one of the reasons people don’t work on their interior more. (I’ll explain.) It’s jarring. What I mean is that when you’ve spent decades being nervous, anxious, worried, fearful, frightened, and distressed, you start thinking that’s who you actually are. Not that it’s particularly fun, but it’s familiar. Comfortable. If you do happen to catch a glimpse of peace while praying, meditating, receiving Reiki, or even skydiving (no kidding, it’s way peaceful), you pass it off as a fluke, never imagining that kind of stillness could be your new normal. But if it were to become your new normal, of course, you’d have to say goodbye to the old you, the false you, and that’s a tough thing to do.

Because we like our personas (a word that originally meant “mask”).

As far as I can tell, The Path, the personal growth path or the spiritual path, is largely about stripping away that which is not true, all the false layers we’ve added to ourselves over years in order to keep ourselves safe. The problem being, of course, that because many of the layers get put on by us, or even for us, at such an early age, we truly don’t know any different. We feel or act neurotic and think, This is just the way I was born. And yet it appears that this is another lie we tell ourselves, another fib we construct to keep from seeing whatever world we’ve constructed tumble and fall.

For me, a lot of growth and progress has come from the thought, Maybe I was wrong about that. In other words, maybe the world isn’t such a scary place, and maybe people, and God and the universe, are kinder than I ever imagined. Likewise, a lot of growth and progress has come from the thought, Maybe I was wrong about myself. Maybe I’m more talented, strong, courageous, beautiful, important, and necessary than I ever gave myself credit for. Maybe we all are. Granted, there are those whose egos are TOO inflated who might not benefit from this line of thinking, but even in these cases it seems that the real issue is the lack of awareness about one’s true and inherent value. (Thus all the posturing.) Accordingly, it’s my encouragement that if you have a judgment about yourself or the world that’s causing you pain, that you become ever more willing to be wrong about it.

What’s the saying? I’d rather be happy than right.

Something I’d like to be wrong about, and indeed am in the process of trying to be wrong about, is the idea that my body isn’t capable of relaxing, feeling good, and healing. Said another way, I’m hoping to find out that the fear I have around something going wrong or catching a worldwide virus is unnecessary. Granted, I’ve made a lot of progress on this topic. I’m not nearly as high-strung as I used to be. But, as with all things, it’s a process. Ugh. We imagine that our futures HAVE to look like our PASTS. But this is ridiculous. Because what would be the point if we simply STAYED THE SAME from womb to tomb? That’s right, dear reader, there wouldn’t be a point. And so it seems we’re meant and intended to grow, evolve, change, and transform for the better. This is the way of it. However slowly, however reluctantly, we march forward.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Aren’t you perfect just the way you are?

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Knowing (Blog #1074)

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Currently it’s 10:39 at night, and I’m uncomfortable in my body. For the last few days I’ve been fighting either a sinus infection or just a good old fashioned cold, and it’s left me feeling ever so slightly achy. Like I’ve been run over by a car. Not a big car, mind you. More like a Power Wheels. You know, the kind toddlers drive. But still, definitely a big Power Wheels. Like a truck, not a sedan. A Power Wheels truck driven by a very large toddler who’s actually the size and weight of a teenager. In other words, my back hurts. Probably from lying in bed too much. Plus, my right eye’s been twitching, and my right elbow’s been itching. “And you’ve been bitching,” my dad added when I told him all this earlier.

Everyone’s a comedian.

All this being said, and thankfully, I’m feeling better than I was yesterday. I’ve had more energy today, less congestion. I haven’t sneezed as much. This evening, for the first time in almost a week, I took a shower. That helped. Granted, fifteen minutes later I blew snot into the inside of my clean tank top, but whatever. My hair is clean.

That’s really something.

Yesterday I mentioned a book I started reading a couple days ago, What’s in Your Web? Stories of Fascial Freedom by Phil Tavolacci. This evening I read more of it, and a quote that stood out was, “What if it were easy?” Like, we make healing out to be this huge thing, almost impossible, but what if it weren’t? Personally I know that I’ve tried for years to get certain parts of my body to relax with little success until recently. Now, thanks to myofascial release, seemingly solid structures within me have begun to melt like butter. Not that my successes have been overnight or “one and done”–healing is always a process–but my strides have been much simpler than I previously imagined.

Likewise, I’ve made a lot of progress through upper cervical care and EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). And whereas there is work involved–I have to drive to my respective doctors and pay them–the actual methods and techniques used are simple. Emotional at times, sure, especially with EMDR, but anything but complicated. What’s more, they’re working faster than years of traditional chiropractic or talk therapy.

What if it were easy?

Last night I had a series of dreams in which I was working closely or intimately involved with a couple recurring characters I normally avoid (in my dreams). To me this means that I’m changing on a conscious and subconscious level and that I’m accepting and integrating previous “cast off” parts of myself. In other words, both my historic and recent efforts are paying off. This is one benefit to keeping a dream journal, even if you only occasionally write down “the biggies” or note certain themes–you can see how you’re evolving over time.

Alas, had I not been paying attention to the fact that I used to run from certain people in my dreams, I may not have realized the significance of the fact that I’m now embracing them. Likewise, I’m glad I have this blog, which, among other things, is a written record of the majority of my inner and outer struggles. Because so often when I’m in the throws of something difficult it’s easy to imagine that I haven’t made any progress at all. And yet looking back I can see that I have. This is everything, knowing that you’re growing as a person. Knowing that you’re not only capable of healing, but that you are healing. Even if, in the moment, you can’t stop sneezing.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We all need to feel alive.

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Willing (Blog #1070)

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This morning I worked backstage for the national tour of Trolls Live! This isn’t as sexy as it may sound. My first official duty when I got to work? Sweep and mop the stage. Which, by the way, was covered in glitter, which one of the characters (Guy Diamond) farts out his butt. (Sheesh. Fart glitter. Toddler humor.) Anyway, just as I was really getting into the mopping part, a screw came out of my mop handle, and the head fell off. (I hate it when my head falls off.) So I picked up the screw, threw it away, took the mop out to my car, and repaired everything with a spare bolt and nut I found in my toolbox.

Well.

By the time I got back to the stage to finish mopping, a curtain (the main) had been lowered onto the stage. No problem, I thought, I’ll just mop behind it. But first I decided to look in front of the curtain, which is where the mop broke, just incase there was another screw or piece that had fallen out. Someone could step on it, I thought. Alas, one of the crew was behind the curtain, and when they noticed that someone in front of the curtain (me) was ruffling it, they sort-of started freaking out and (albeit gently) reprimanding that person (me again). “Don’t touch the curtain,” they said. “The doors are open. People are coming in.”

Of course, they didn’t know WHY I was touching the curtain. How could they? They didn’t ask for an explanation, and, being on the other side of the curtain and not realizing until “too late” that they were even talking to me, I didn’t offer one. This is an example of the idea that we all live in different worlds. I was living in the “I need to move the curtain to keep someone from getting hurt” world, and they were living in the “that curtain’s delicate and expensive, and the show’s about to start” world. And whereas there was a time I would have thought that their world was right and my world was wrong or vice versa, more and more I don’t see anyone else’s world as better or worse, morally superior or inferior, than mine.

Just different.

This being said, a part of me was still upset by the interaction. My Inner People Pleaser has been “online” for so long that it’s never fun (like, how exciting!) for me to be corrected. Plus, apparently my personality has been intentionally designed to be largely independent and function via an inner mantra that sounds like, “Don’t tell me what to do.” I accept this about myself. Not just because it resonates as true for me, but also because I’m tired of trying to change it. Not that I can’t improve or that I’m always right, but I am who I am. Accordingly, who and what I am IS right–for me.

Getting back to accepting myself in the above situation, years ago I would have fretted for hours, if not days, about what happened, thinking both that I had done something wrong and that–oh no!–someone didn’t like me. After almost six years of therapy, almost three years of daily writing and introspection, and just over a month of EMDR treatments, I’m happy to report that I got over it pretty quickly. My point being that you don’t have to be a slave to your emotional reactions forever. Your inner demons can be tamed and quieted. This being said, I truly believe that our emotional reactions only downshift once they’ve been given permission to speak and once we hear them.

Once we hear ourselves.

In Trolls Live! it’s said that one of the characters won (I think) the fuzziest hair contest in 2016, 2017, and 2019. “What happened in 2018?” one of the other characters says. The answer?

“We don’t talk about 2018.”

Alas, this is how most of us handle the distressing emotions and situations in our lives. We shove them down. Ignore them. Bury them. Cover them up. We don’t talk about IT, whatever IT is. And whereas I understand and am completely and utterly familiar with these strategies, they simply haven’t worked as a permanent and healing solution for me. What has worked? Talking about, feeling, and accepting every scary and uncomfortable whatever. Listening to and learning from my body, feelings, and emotions, however unpleasant or gross that process may be. Looking at IT. Mr. Rogers encouraged, “Feelings are mentionable AND manageable.” When you’re stuck in embarrassment or shame (I did something wrong), it can feel like you’re going to fall apart, to implode. But I can absolutely promise you that regardless of what you’ve buried inside you, you’ve been given an inherent wisdom that knows how to handle its resurrection and transformation.

Several minutes after the “you’re on the wrong side of the curtain” incident, I got excited about the fact that I was having a very ancient emotional reaction. Why? Because it let me know there was a part of me that needed to be heard, that I imagine has been wanting to express itself for quite a long time. That’s been wanting to take the stage and be my teacher. Along these lines, ore and more I’m grateful when someone pushes my buttons. Because they show me where my buttons are located. They show me the parts of myself I’ve been ignoring. (Thankfully, after all this time and trial-and-error–I now know what to do with this invaluable information.) Likewise, I’m even beginning to find gratitude for the pains in my body. Because they too are crying out for attention. And they make me curious. Like, Sweetheart, what’s going on here? What story do you have to tell me? What have I not been willing to hear until now?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even if you can't be anything you want to be, you can absolutely be who you were meant to be. Don't let anyone else tell you differently.

"

On Dancing and Personalities (Blog #1066)

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Currently it’s six in the evening and I’m in Springfield, Missouri, above the Savoy Ballroom. In an hour–I don’t know–a hundred people will be downstairs, dressed in rolled-up jeans and poodle skirts, ready for tonight’s sock hop. In two hours, after a swing dance lesson, the hop will officially begin. At some point, my friend Matt and I will perform a routine to “Good Golly Miss Molly” with our friends Anne and Andy, the studio owners, and six other couples. Matt and I just learned the routine last night. Just before I sat down to blog, we practiced again. Thankfully, everything is starting to make sense.

Late last night and earlier today I went down the rabbit hole of learning about different personalities, according to a system (Human Design) I was introduced to a few days ago thanks to what I believe was fate. You know, that happy little thing that’s beyond our control and places us in the right place at the right time. And whereas I’m a total newbie about all this, the system makes sense to me. The main thing I like about it being that it doesn’t try to squeeze everyone into the same box. Rather, in very clear terms, it espouses the idea that we’re all made beautifully and uniquely different, and for good reasons. What I bring to the table isn’t what you bring to the table.

And we need both things.

Now, I’m not going to try to take my extremely limited understanding of Human Design and explain the whole system. But perhaps by sharing a few things that have resonated with me, I can offer to you what’s been offered to me, the peace of mind that comes through self-acceptance. Like, here’s something. For decades I’ve told people that I’m not spontaneous, that my idea of being spontaneous is to write on my calendar, “Do something unplanned this Saturday at three o’clock.” Well, I’ve given myself a lot of crap for this. I’ve looked at people who fly by the seat of their pants and been jealous. I’ve thought, I wish I could do that. God, Marcus, why can’t you lighten the fuck up and STOP planning? But according my specific Human Design profile, I haven’t been created to function that way. Indeed, the affirmation it offers to my type is, “I am not here to be spontaneous. I am here to be deliberate.”

Deliberate. It’s amazing what freedom you can find in a single word. YES, I am NOT here to be spontaneous. That’s for someone else. Go, live by your fancy. As for me, I’m a planner, an on-purpose-er.

I am here to be deliberate.

I can’t tell you how much I identify with this word. Likewise, I identify with the concept of “just doing it,” of having a thought and making something happen. But apparently only nine percent of the world’s population are like me. The others, the majority, prefer to be invited to do something, rather than initiating it (a conversation, a business, a lifestyle change). I don’t know their official profile, but I’ve always said that one of my friends will NEVER mow their lawn on their own, certainly never PLAN to mow their lawn on their own. But if you (spontaneously) say, “Hey, wanna mow your lawn today?” they’ll be right there WITH YOU. Anyway, that’s what I’m seeing. That I’m a loner, but some people absolutely are not. I’m a planner, but some people are anything but.

And we need both things.

Along these lines, apparently I have my willpower center defined, meaning that I have willpower that’s self-generated and self-sustaining (just do it). For years I’ve looked at people I love and even total strangers in judgment. Like, why can’t you get motivated? And yet anywhere from two-thirds to seven-eights(!) of the population have willpower centers that are undefined. They REQUIRE the motivation of others to get them going. And not that they can’t get things done (in fact, they can get things done REALLY WELL); their actions just aren’t self-initiated. And whereas this may sound like, Oh crap, I don’t have much willpower (you know, it’s all the rage right now), that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Everything has its ups and downs. For example, the trade-off I make for being able to initiate things and having a lot of willpower is that it’s easy for me to burn out. Because I don’t come with an endless supply of energy, the way many people who don’t have as much willpower do.

What I’m seeing more and more clearly is that, well, both things are needed. All personality types are good and necessary. For balance. For harmony. For clarity. It’s not just my way or the highway. It’s our way or no way at all. We need each other to survive. No one can dance alone.

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 As I Am (Blog #976)

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A year ago tonight, as part of a dance routine, I jumped over my friend Matt’s head and tore my ACL. As I’ve joked since, I didn’t stick the landing. But seriously, y’all, it was an ordeal. Although I didn’t feel much pain during or after the injury, it was bad enough that I had to have surgery three weeks later (the day after Christmas) and six months of physical therapy after that. A year out, I’m proud to say I’ve come a long way. I can dance again. I can–sort of–hop. Granted, I still have trouble lowering myself down using only my left leg, but considering the fact that this time last year it took three people and fifteen minutes to change my pants, I’ll take it.

Perspective is everything.

For the last year I’ve wondered exactly what happened that night. The answer I’ve given anyone who’s asked is that maybe I landed wrong, like didn’t get feet underneath me or whatever. Maybe the floor was slick. Maybe it was my shoes. They WERE way too big for my feet. Well, until this last week I never had the courage to watch the video and find out. (That’s right, my disaster was caught on film.) I kept thinking, I don’t want to WATCH my body falling apart. But this last week I finally got the guts. I thought, The worst is over, I can handle it. I want to know what happened.

So I watched the video.

Best I can tell, I didn’t get quite high enough, then my left foot landed before my right one on a bit of an angle. Then the worst happened. Check out the still from the video below. It looks like I’m impersonating Elvis Presley, but in fact my left knee is going out to lunch. Don’t worry–I’m NOT going to share the actual video (but our rehearsal from the night before is posted at the conclusion of tonight’s blog). The injury is honestly not TOO painful to watch, but it’s not comfortable either. The difficult part I have trouble viewing is the rest of the routine, in which my face flinches and my body flops around like a fish out of water. I guess I’m embarrassed to show it. Still, looking back, I’m proud I finished the routine at all. Once it was over, I couldn’t even stand on my own. Matt had to assist me off the dance floor, at which point I sat down and didn’t stand unassisted for over two weeks.

In other words, I’m pretty much a badass for not collapsing as soon as the injury occurred.

I’ve spent most of today lying in bed, resting and watching Lindy Hop videos. There’s a big competition this weekend, and they’re live-streaming the finals for all the contests. Before my injury, I would have been jealous. I would have compared myself to the best in the world and thought, They’re so much better than I am. I wish that were me. Having survived last year’s trauma, however, now I’m just happy to be able to dance at all. Several of the couples I watched today–honestly–screwed up some of their lifts. Nobody I saw limped off the dance floor, but the fact is that even if you’re an awesome dancer and rehearse something a hundred times, things can still go wrong. Shit happens. Your life can change in the blink of an eye.

So be grateful.

I’ve thought about this a lot today, the idea that we spend so much time comparing ourselves to others. And for what? Recently I’ve been culling my Facebook friends, and a number of the people I’m digitally divorcing are people I’ve looked up to, been jealous of, and wanted approval from for one reason or another. Alas, for all my wanting to be seen by and approved of by these people, I’ve gotten peanuts. (They have their own problems.) This is just as well. I could spend the next ten years wanting someone else’s talent, and it will never be mine because it belongs to them. (What’s theirs is theirs and what’s mine is mine.) Absent my judgment of or wanting something from someone else, their talent IS mine, in that I get to watch and enjoy it. This is what I’ve really leaned into this last year–I know what I’ve got and I know what I don’t got, and that’s okay. Talent or no talent, looks or no looks, knees that work or don’t, I have everything I need in order to love, be loved, and be happy. In short, I have me.

Not me as I wish I were, but me as I am.

This is enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You've got to believe that things can turn around, that even difficult situations--perhaps only difficult situations--can turn you into something magnificent.

"

On Stumbling Blocks and Stepping Stones (Blog #950)

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After forty hours of fasting, this morning I weighed. The verdict: I lost 2.6 pounds in 24 hours. That’s a total of 13.6 pounds in the last seven weeks and brings me to a weight I haven’t seen in almost two years. Well, except for that time I got the flu twice in one season. But seriously tho, the last time I got down to this weight I decided I could live without losing any more, that weighing what I did in college was enough. And not that I’m deciding it’s enough forever–because my goal isn’t to reach a certain number, but rather to eat well and exercise and see what happens–but I am deciding it’s enough for this moment.

So this evening I ate cornbread.

Tonight’s blog is #950 in a row, and for whatever reason it feels like a big deal. I guess because I remember how proud I felt when I reached #50, and this is 900 more, 900 more days of–life. (I made it.) Somewhere along the way, I do feel like something shifted. I still have bad days, of course, and all the emotions. My outer circumstances haven’t changed all that much, although I guess I have lost weight and made headway with certain physical challenges like sinus infections. And whereas other inner and outer challenges remain, the last 950 days have taught me that I can handle whatever comes my way. Even if it’s not pretty.

Especially if it’s not pretty.

Bring it on, world.

I take that back. I’m probably IN my current predicaments because I’ve said, “Bring it on, world” before. Not that it works that way. If you’re here on the planet, you’re going to face inner and outer challenges because it’s how we grow and evolve. Suffering strongly encourages us to change, to transform.

I hate this as much as you do.

This evening I’ve been irritated about a business matter, which may nor may not turn out to be a big deal. Anyway, I’ve spent the entire night doing things to distract myself from thinking about it–folding laundry, downloading music files (as if I don’t have plenty to listen to already), eating cornbread. Of course, this hasn’t worked, and I’m still stuck with my feelings. The good news is that 1) recently my therapist told me she thought I was better at feeling my feelings than I give myself credit for and 2) I’ve come to understand that even uncomfortable feelings provide us with information. For example, my therapist says when she makes important business or personal decisions, she wants her heart to feel light as a feather. If it doesn’t? Then the decision’s not right. In this sense, I know that if I have feelings I want to run away from, they’re likely simply telling me that something is “off.”

Seen from this perspective, our icky feelings are our allies, in that they alert us to things we NEED to think about even if we don’t want to. For example, time and time again during the past two plus years I’ve started the day with a gross emotion and–thanks to this blog and its ability to help me process–come to a better understanding of myself, others, and the world around me. When I think about the last 950 days, the current matter that’s bothering me seems like less of a problem–not only because I’m reminded of more difficult situations that worked out just fine, but also because I’m reminded that each difficult situation offers us a pearl of wisdom if we are willing to take it.

Along these lines, earlier tonight I read a pamphlet about forgiveness that I picked up at my chiropractor’s office, and one of the points was “learn the lesson.” The point being that forgiving someone or getting past a situation is easier if you can allow it to help you grow. I’ve often said that my ex was real pill but that he was largely instrumental in getting me to therapy (thanks to his ridiculous behavior, not his encouraging words). And therapy’s changed my life. This doesn’t mean anything he did or didn’t do was right and good, of course, but it does mean he provided me an opportunity to grow.

The important part: I took it.

In my experience, few of us SEEK opportunities to grow. Like, who wakes up in the morning and says, “You know, I’ve got a free weekend coming up and think I’d like to turn my world upside and completely change my beliefs about myself, others, God, and the universe”? No, most of us have to be “offered” opportunities to grow, largely where we don’t want them. For example, I would have preferred my ex to be “the one,” to be someone he, quite frankly, was not, rather than the catalyst for my transformation. Earlier this summer a client tried to pull a fast one and get me to do twice the work I’d agreed to but for the same amount, and I would have preferred for them to be integrous, rather than my chance to speak up. My point being that we don’t get to decide how someone else behaves. We only get to decide how we respond, whether we’ll use a challenging situation to become bitter or better.

A popular concept in new age and self-help literature is that the world is an illusion. I’ve come to believe that this doesn’t mean your dining room table or headache isn’t real, although the argument certainly can be made that these things aren’t as solid as we once believed they were. Everything’s made of vibrating atoms and so on. Rather, the idea of something being an illusion is just this–that things aren’t what they seem. Something else is afoot here, Mr. Watson. Using my previous examples, what I mean is that the situation with my ex wasn’t about love or hate or any of his piss-poor behavior. Although I could have made it this, it wasn’t about me being right and him being wrong for all eternity. Likewise, everything I’ve ever been upset or worried about over the last 950 days hasn’t been about those specific things. Instead, it’s been about how I responded to them, whether or not my soul grew or shrank.

This is a mystical perspective, of course, but it’s the one that will ultimately bring you the most peace. Your diet isn’t about how much you weigh; it’s about whether or not you’re being kind to yourself. Are you losing weight as a form of self-punishment or self-love? This is the illusion part. Either way you’re on a diet, but your motivation determines whether or not you’ll be content with your results. If you’re beating yourself up, nothing will ever be good enough. If you’re loving yourself, whatever happens will be okay. In terms of your challenges, do you see them as stumbling blocks or stepping stones? Either way you’re looking at a rock. It’s just a matter of whether the rock uses you, or you use the rock.

My suggestion: use the rock.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It's enough to sit in, and sometimes drag ass through, the mystery.

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When You Find Yourself at Your Worst (Blog #948)

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Ugh. It’s almost one in the morning, and I’m just now writing. Thanks to Daylight Savings, today was technically longer than usual (25 instead of 23 hours), but seriously, where did it go? This morning my aunt and I went to breakfast, then this afternoon we went antique shopping. Then I drove home (from Tulsa), taught a dance lesson, and had dinner. Then I unpacked and helped my parents with some stuff. Now here I am–braindead and unsure of what to say.

More than anything else, I’m tired. My body wants to sleep. Still, I’m pushing it to stay awake and function, and this is causing me to be increasingly frustrated. I want to throw this laptop across the room and screw this entire project. Like, what’s it gotten me anyway? Never mind the fact that it’s changed my entire life for the better. In this moment, I’m over it.

I’ve heard Caroline Myss say that we should be less concerned about who we are when we’re at our best and more concerned about who we are when we’re at our worst. You know, when we want to throw things across the room, curse people out, spend money we don’t have, and run away. According to Myss, the reason we should be concerned about this side of ourselves (rather than just chalking it up to being tired or blaming our mood on someone or something other than ourselves) is because this is the side of us that’s really running the show, influencing our health and relationships. Think about it. You don’t have an upset stomach because most of the day you’re calm; you have an upset stomach because part of the day you’re a powder keg. You don’t break up with your ex because they’re a total monster; you break up with your ex because they’re a partial monster (and yet it matters).

For me, the answer’s not about getting rid of any frustration or anger. It’s not even about not blowing up, although I think it’s wise to keep one’s outbursts to a minimum. Rather, it’s about becoming intimately acquainted with all parts of myself. This starts first with acknowledging any and all feelings (physical sensations) and emotions (states of mind) I’m having, and second with giving them a home.

I’ll explain.

This morning at breakfast I told my aunt that I have a ritual I go through whenever I buy new things. For example, with clothes I take the tags off, sometimes wash the clothes, and always hang them up or put them in a drawer. With books I remove any stickers, then put the books on my shelves. “You HOME them,” my aunt said. “You give them a home.”

Getting back to the idea of our feelings and emotions, I’m suggesting that if I were to blow up and throw my laptop across the room, I would NOT be giving my feelings and emotions a place to live. I might be expressing them, I might be externalizing them, but I would also be distancing myself from, well, myself. This is the deal whether you’re externalizing your emotions (biting someone’s head off) or internalizing your emotions (stuffing them down and pretending they don’t exist), you end up taking part of yourself and putting it “over there.” Consequently, you cut yourself off from valuable information. For example, when I’m able to sit with my tiredness and frustration and ask them what they have to say (rather than ask them to leave), they tell me that I’m pushing myself too hard, that I’m asking too much of myself mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

“Whooooaaa, Trigger,” they say.

Admittedly, my first instinct is NOT to home my feelings and emotions. When I’m upset, I’d much rather throw a fit or stuff things down than actually get curious about what’s going on. That was one of Myss’s points when she said that we should be concerned with who we are at our worst. Not like, oh, there’s a serious problem, but like, oh, I wonder why I do that. For example, one of my triggers is being told what to do, but at this point in the game I know it has nothing to do with anyone who happens to be offering me unsolicited advice. Rather, it has to do with my fears and insecurities about being able to take care of myself, about whether I know enough or am enough. Like, I should have it all figured out, and if someone’s telling me what to do, that clearly means I don’t.

If it’s not obviously, these last few statements are bullshit beliefs. Myss would call them spells, things that aren’t true but that we buy into and that have (huge) influence over us nonetheless. The good news is that once you become aware of your bullshit beliefs, you can do something about them. How do you become aware of your beliefs? Get to know yourself. HOME your feelings and emotions and listen to what they have to tell you. Get to know your triggers. When you find yourself at your worst, consider that you’re being given a window into your psyche and soul. Say, “Whoooooaaa, Trigger, this is an opportunity for me to grow. This is a chance for me to really change.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing is like the internet at my parents’ house—it takes time.

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On Cleaning Things Up (Blog #872)

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Today I finished painting the bathroom I started on last week. When I first began, the walls were weak green, the ceiling brown. Now everything–the walls, the ceiling, the trim (the toilet, that bath tub, the sink)–is white. Simply white. Room by room, the entire house is becoming white. Simply white. And whereas I’m personally not a huge fan of wall-to-wall white rooms, in this case I like it. For one thing, the rooms were pretty dirty/dingy before, so the white really cleans things up. For another, since the rooms are rather small, the white opens them up, reflects more light.

Ta-da!

This evening I taught a dance lesson, went to the library to take an online class, then helped a friend who’s in the process of painting a room at his work. Thankfully, I didn’t have to paint, just hang a few pictures. However, I also helped try to remove paint from a piece of plexiglass they were using to keep the backs of chairs from damaging one of the walls they were painting. The old paint stuck to the plexiglass when they took the plexiglass off the wall. Anyway, I say “try to remove paint” because, y’all, getting paint off plexiglass is tough. We tried paint thinner, ammonia, Pine-Sol, and even whitening toothpaste (which actually worked the best). Alas, we were only partly successful. At least half the paint hung on for dear life. Finally, we gave up for tonight.

More chemicals will be tried tomorrow.

Today I started reading a new book about Internal Family Systems (IFS), a school of psychology that views one’s individual mental and emotional patterns as separate “parts.” For example, most of us have an inner child, an inner perfectionist, an inner grouch. And whereas a lot of self-help and spiritual approaches would say you should banish or be rid of certain thoughts, emotions, or parts, IFS suggests not only welcoming all pieces of yourself, but also integrating them. I’ve noticed this general idea in several other approaches as well, like anything that promotes getting to know your shadow, or even Byron Katie’s The Work, which suggests questioning (dialoguing with) your stressful thoughts.

More and more, these approaches make the most sense to me because they promote true self-acceptance and unconditional love. That is, most of us think we will love ourselves when we look, think, or feel a certain way because we think we’re not good enough or worthy enough as we are. We imagine a body that weighs less or a mind that’s more “pure” is “better” than the one we have now, so we set goals to change ourselves. However, as Pema Chodron points out, when we do this we create a “subtle aggression” toward ourselves. Of course, it is possible to go about changing ourselves because we love ourselves, because we want to take the best care of ourselves possible, rather than thinking we need to change because we’re fundamentally wrong or unworthy. This shift in motivation, of course, makes all the difference.

Both while I was painting over the weak green in the bathroom this afternoon and while I was doing my best to scrub paint off the plexiglass this evening, I thought about how challenging change can be. Our old ways of thinking and our old patterns of behaving die hard. Lately I’ve been working on not being such a perfectionist, but twice after finishing the bathroom I put my paintbrush away then got it back out because I saw spots that needed touching up. Now, I’m okay with this because I like to do a good job when I work and I didn’t get neurotic about it. This is how I know my perfectionist pattern is–um–losing its charge. I didn’t obsess for the rest of the day. I didn’t tear down all the wallpaper.

I’ll explain.

A friend of mine says that a well-balanced person will see a corner of wallpaper that’s peeling off and, like, grab the superglue. A perfectionist, however, will tear down all the wallpaper and remodel the entire room. This second option, obviously, is nuts, and yet many of us spend our entire lives overreacting, thinking everything has to be just so. We pace the floor or give ourselves panic attacks when everything isn’t. We forget to breathe.

Getting back to the idea that old patterns die hard, I’ve found a major step in changing not-so-productive patterns to more productive ones is first recognizing how the old patterns have been helpful. Tonight I made a list of several old patterns that I think have been trying to “gear down” for a few years now (things like perfectionism, self-criticism, and people pleasing), and for each one listed HOW that patterns came to my aid when I was a child. For example, a perfect, people-pleasing child is less likely to be spanked or yelled at, is more likely to be fed and taken care of. When dialoguing with your different parts, IFS suggest asking them, “How old do you think I am?” Most likely they’ll come back with a number in the single digits. The point: your parts or patterns don’t always know that you’ve grown up, that their “help” isn’t as needed now as it was at one time.

When I think about the all-white rooms that I’ve been painting, they remind me of a blank page, full of possibility. Now, are they truly a blank page? No. There are imperfections. There are flecks, even broad strokes of the paint that used to be there before. Underneath the sink or whatever. This has been and continues to be my experience with change and transformation. It’s not that you start completely over. Rather, you update yourself. You start bringing in new patterns, running new software. You clean things up. You reflect more light.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t change what happened, but you can change the story you tell yourself about it.

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I Meant to Do That! (Blog #837)

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Photo by Virgilia Dale. Thanks, V!

This morning I saw my therapist and read her yesterday’s blog, about childhood memories. I don’t do this very often, maybe once every couple months, if I’d like her opinion on something or it seems relevant. For example, on our last therapy-iversary, I read her my post about why me and my therapist are successful. It was my way of saying, “Thank you.” (I also brought cookies.) Anyway, I read last night’s blog because, as I told her, “I cried when I wrote it and am hoping I can cry again.”

“Go for it,” she said. “Get the poison out of your water.”

Then she added, “I like how you’ve been crying more lately.”

Well, sure enough, it worked. I cried more when I read the post to her than when I wrote the damn thing. I guess there’s something about my therapist’s presence. It’s like I know I can say anything, be completely me in the moment, and that’s going to be okay. Never once in five years have I felt judged. Not that I’ve always been agreed with–far from it–but I’ve never felt judged. Instead, no matter if I’ve been angry, sad, depressed, irate, confused, lethargic, disappointed, hurt, or horny–I’ve felt totally accepted. And I guess that’s been one of the big gifts this blog has given me too–acceptance.

Self-acceptance.

I imagine this is why certain posts make me cry. Like last night’s, they’re usually the ones that have something to do with my childhood. The way I see it, I probably needed to cry (and yell and scream) back then but just didn’t know how. Consequently, it’s like some part of me got asked to sit down and shut up indefinitely. But here’s the thing about writing if you do it correctly–you bring your whole self to it. This means that when you’re being creative all the parts of yourself that have previously been silenced can potentially speak up. They may cry and they may to tell people to fuck off. If you’re smart, you’ll listen. This is what self-acceptance is–not letting every part of you run the show, but letting every part of you be heard.

The above picture of me at a lemonade stand showed up in my Facebook memories today. For a while my dance studio was in the same building as a photographer, and the lemonade stand was one of her props. Anyway, this picture always makes me think of that overused saying–when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Along these lines, there’s this quote from Joseph Campbell–“To transform you hell into a paradise is to turn your fall into a voluntary act. Joyfully participate in the sorrows of the world and everything changes.” To me this means not so much that you make the best of a bad situation, but that on some level you actually choose the bad situation.

I’ll explain.

There’s an idea in the self-help world that you’re happy not when you have what you want, but rather when you want what you have. Think about it. We usually associate wanting with things we don’t have, but if you were to–in this moment–look at everything in your life and say, “I want this,” you’d immediately experience a sense of contentment. For me this would look like saying, “I want to weigh 190 (ish) pounds. I want to be single. I want to be living at home with my parents and experiencing a headache.”

Good news! I am.

Applied to one’s past, all of this means that rather than labeling your difficult circumstances as bullshit or something that never should have happened, you look at them and say, “That was exactly what I needed.” This is what Campbell means when he says, “Turn your fall into a voluntary act.” Children do this all the time. They trip on their shoelaces, hit the concrete, and scab their knees then immediately look at their friends and say, “I MEANT to do that!” In keeping with my previous discussion about last night’s blog about childhood memories and specifically the fact that my family’s home burned down when I was four, this means that yes, I cry or scream about it when I need to, but I refuse to let myself be bitter about the situation. Instead I think, That helped make me who I am today. And I like who I am today.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our struggles unearth our strengths.

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