An Attention Intervention (Blog #503)

It’s five in the evening, and all I want to do is read. I’m still in the middle of the book by Richard Bach I mentioned yesterday, and I just picked up two more (one about the moon, one about the practice of alchemy) at the library. Really, “the hunt” is as much fun as the reading, looking around, digging for new sources of information and knowledge. I really have a hard time turning it off. Earlier this week my friend Marla said, “Marcus, you’ve GOT to watch this television show on Netflix,” and I said, “I CAN’T STOP READING!”

“Do you need an intervention?” she said.

Yes, yes I do. An attention intervention.

Earlier today I saw my therapist. She said I seemed “anxious,” which I guess I am. I’ve been working a lot lately, I’m going out-of-town next week for business, and–consequently–I have a hundred things on my mind. Plus, I’m signed up with the United States Postal Service to receive digital images (pictures) of the mail that’s being delivered every day, and this morning I found out that later today I’ll be receiving a letter from my doctor. I’m assuming it’s my results from last week’s cholesterol, thyroid, and testosterone tests. And whereas part of me wants everything to be “okay,” another part of me “wants” there to be SOMETHING wrong in order to explain why my health and energy levels have been so up and down this last year.

So I’m on edge.

At one point during our conversation today, my therapist used the phrase “enough for the moment.” I think it was in the context of dealing with stressful or self-critical thoughts. Like, putting your hand up and saying, “STOP. Back off, jerk-wad. That’s enough for the moment.” But later we were talking about that concept–enough–since I often feel like EVERYONE ELSE has what they need to succeed, but I don’t, as if I need to be smarter, or better educated, or richer, or better looking in order for my life to “work out.” But my therapist reminded me that I AM enough, that WHO I AM is enough.

“You have EVERYTHING you need to succeed,” she said.

So now I’m telling myself, I am enough. I am enough for this moment.

This is something that’s been on my mind lately–this moment. Earlier today I started re-listening a set of Caroline Myss lectures that are some of my favorites–Fundamentals of Spiritual Alchemy. (Alchemy is a theme for me lately.) The basic idea is that in “this moment,” your physical body may be sitting in your chair in the living room (or wherever), but that–chances are pretty good–your spirit or soul is what Myss calls “non-local.” Like, you’re still thinking about that argument you had with a co-worker yesterday, or angry about what your mom said to you twenty years ago, or worried about what you’ll wear for your date this weekend. In other words, you (and me too) are way spread-out, anywhere but right here, right now.

Myss says that the point of alchemy and the ancient mystery schools was to train a person (an “initiate”) how to be in present time. Jesus said it this way–“Give no thought for tomorrow.” Of course, this is hard work, but worth it– since being out of present time creates psychic “lead,” which not only is a bitch to carry around (we’ve all got baggage!), but also literally slows down the pace at which your life moves–how quickly you can manifest your dreams, even how soon you can heal a physical illness. It’s fascinating. (It’s terrifying.) As Myss says–it takes AT LEAST an entire lifetime to learn.

In my way of thinking, so much of this work comes down to what you let yourself think about, what you allow to command your attention. Maybe this is a good way to say it: Do you let the circumstances of your life command your attention, or do YOU command your attention? When my therapist and I were talking about not feeling good enough, she said, “That’s a slippery slope to go down–the ‘poor me’ slope.” (I said, “Yeah, it’s a real Black Diamond.”) But the point is, we do have a choice about which hills we step onto and consequently go down. We CAN work at putting our focus on the here and now, rather than the past and awful, or the future and terrifying. We CAN self-initiate an attention intervention.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just as there’s day and night literally, there’s also day and night emotionally. Like the sun, one minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down. Our perspectives change constantly. There’s nothing wrong with this. The constellations get turned around once a day, so why can’t you and I? Under heaven, there’s room enough for everything–the sun, the moon and stars, and all our emotions. Yes, the universe–our home–is large enough to hold every bit of us.

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The Most Important Lesson (Blog #359)

Currently it’s just after midnight, and I’m in Tulsa, Oklahoma, at my aunt’s house. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve stayed here, sometimes in the spare bedroom upstairs, sometimes on the couch downstairs. (I’ll be on the couch tonight.) When I was in my twenties and traveling to various dance events, I used to pit-stop here a lot. At some point my aunt just gave me a key, like, come and go as you please. You know how it is when you’re part of the furniture. You walk in, throw your keys on the table, and immediately relax. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, it’s okay because–well–you’re home.

Y’all, I’ve had the best day. Spring is in the air, the weather is glorious, and Tom Collins (my car) and I had a great drive into town this morning. Right off the bat, my friend Frank and I had coffee. Frank and I met each other through our Reiki group and keep up by email. Plus, Frank reads the blog and regularly sends me encouraging messages, like, You’re not alone–I feel that way too. Well, we had a delightful chat, and get this shit. As we left the diner where we met, Frank said, “I was cleaning my closets out recently and–I don’t even know where I got it–but I found something I don’t think you can live without.” Naturally intrigued, I said, “I can’t WAIT to see it.”

Y’all–it was a 2009 High School Musical (Zac Efron!) wall calendar! Talk about the perfect gift. I seriously couldn’t stop smiling.

I can’t wait to hang it up.

And yes, I’m a 37-year-old man.

Well, as if that weren’t enough, I then met my friends Kara and Amber for dinner. We were supposed to meet recently in Fayetteville (we all live in different cities), but I got stuck in a bad traffic jam and couldn’t make it, so we rescheduled for today. And whereas the company was amazing–like, it really was great, and I love, love, love our talks–what I’d really like to discuss now is the desserts. We split this chocolate cake and gelato thing that was UH-MAZING, as well as a gooey blueberry cake situation that was better than any one-night stand or long-term relationship I’ve ever had. I’m not even a big fruity cake fan, but this thing knocked my socks off. I mean, it was a huge FO.

FO (pronounced eff-oh) stands for Food Orgasm, Mom.

After dinner I attended a local swing dance. I didn’t tell any of my Tulsa dancer friends that I was coming, so I got to surprise a few of them. Plus, some of my Arkansas dancer friends were in town, so it felt like a little reunion. Y’all, I had some great dances. By the time the night was over, my shirt was dripping wet. Plus, it turned out to be my friend Marina’s birthday. No kidding, she turned 96 today. 96, and this woman was wearing a t-shirt that said, “Where’s the WIFI at?” Talk about an inspiration.

For me, there’s something about dancing in Tulsa. When I was cutting my teeth as a young swing dancer, my friends and I used to drive to Tulsa to learn how to Lindy Hop. (When it comes to dancing, Oklahoma is “slightly” more progressive than Arkansas.) Anyway, that’s how I met my friends Gregg and Rita (whom I’ve traveled with over the years), and that’s how I (eventually) met Marina. And no kidding–as much fun as dancing can be with a stranger, it’s even better with your friends. Really, there’s nothing like it, moving to the music while you’re holding hands with someone who’s known you and loved you through all of life’s peaks and valleys.

Tonight’s blog is number 359, which means that I only have seven more posts to go (including this one) in order to reach a solid year of daily writing. Just thinking about this fact, about crossing the one-year finish line, makes me emotional. A year ago this was just an idea. I remember exactly where I was standing and what was going on when it came to me. And whereas I was excited about this blog, I had no clue (none) how it would change me for the better. Closing in on “year one,” I can honestly say this is both the most difficult and simultaneously most rewarding project I have ever undertaken.

No exceptions.

In the beginning of this project, there was a part of me that imagined my life would look different by now, that I’d either have more readers or a book deal, or that I’d be living in a different city. Now I think it’s safe to say that none of those fantasies will materialize within the next week. But honestly, that’s okay. You see, the universe likes to play tricks on people. A year ago I thought I was starting this blog in order to get something, like a ticket to a better life. Perhaps I wouldn’t have started it any other way. But somewhere along this journey, I realized that a deeper, wiser part of me actually started this blog in oder to BECOME something.

In almost a year, I’ve written over 350,000 words, each one as honest as I could make it. Some of you–God bless your hearts–have been there for every frickin’ one. And yet despite all these honest words, this is where words fail me, since I can’t find a way to properly describe what a beneficial thing this strange trip has been (and is). I can try (I have tried and will continue to try), but I really believe that if you want to know, you have to take the trip for yourself. You have to go where your spirit calls you.

When I talk about “becoming something,” what I really mean is “becoming someone,” specifically–yourself. And that’s the weird thing–a year ago I wouldn’t have said that I wasn’t me. And yet there were so many places in my life where I was intimidated or afraid, places where I felt “less than.” Likewise, there were so many times that I’d bite my tongue or people please, hide my truth or shut myself down in some way. And all of that is different now. I can’t say exactly when it happened, but I can say exactly where it happened–right here at this laptop. This is where I’ve sat down 359 times in order to–often unknowingly–discover and meet myself, to get honest about what I want, what I feel, and what’s happening inside.

Of all the lessons I’ve learned, perhaps this is the most important…

But back to words failing. When I walk into my aunt’s house, I know I’m part of the furniture. Likewise, when I sit down to dinner with my friends Kara and Amber, I know I can let my hair down. It’s the same when I’m on the dance floor with my friends Greg, Rita, and Marina. In these moments, these fleeting moments, I’m home. But after this strange trip, now it’s like I’m home all the time. Somehow I got a ticket to a better life, but it’s not an external one–it’s an internal one. Now no matter where I am or whom I’m with, not only am I less intimidated and less afraid, I’m also more comfortable in my skin. Less and less do I feel “less than.” More importantly, I know that no matter what happens, I’ll always have one person on my side, one person who will be there for me and love me unconditionally. This one person, of course, is me. Of all the lessons I’ve learned in the last year, perhaps this is the most important–this one person is enough.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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All great heroes, at some point, surrender to the unknown.

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