I read "Choose Yourself," by James Altucher and my oxytocin levels increased immediately.

I have owned James Altucher’s book “Choose Yourself,” for one week, and already it is covered in avocado stains.

Choose Yourself, by James Altucher

Choose Yourself, by James Altucher

James Altucher and I have tons in common.  We both recognize the immense value of taking a shit.  The benefits are physical, emotional, spiritual, physical, creative and financial.
If your bowels don’t function well enough to take a smooth and thorough dump, life is going to be more difficult than it has to be.

Also, James and I both have very curly hair that is usually messy.

Here is a picture of me reading “Choose Yourself.” You can’t see the avocado stains.  They are on the inside.  I am reading the chapter, “How to release the God Hormone.” It is based on James’ blogpost 10 unusual ways to release oxytocin into your life. At first I thought that oxytocin was the same as oxycontin, but I guess it is a little different.  Oxycontin is a narcotic while oxytocin  is this natural thing that your body releases when you hump your lover’s leg, or like someone’s post on Facebook, or eat a bunch of eggs and bananas and peppers mixed together.  The words are similar.  Just like the words vague, vagina, and vagus are similar.  James Altucher points this out in his oxytocin chapter and it made me laugh and release oxytocin. James says that when your vagus nerve is inflamed, you’ll feel pissed off and stressed out.  When it feels good, the whole world will seem orgasmic. Knock yourself out, everyone.

PROCRASTINATION

I just took a break from writing this post to hump the Boatman’s leg.  He was lying on the couch reading a book about philosophy.  I interrupted him and we had sex and now my vagina and vagus nerve feel spectacular. The feelings are not vague.

In his chapter, “The Seven Habits of Highly Mediocre People”originating from this post, James recommends Procrastination.  I am grateful for this and I find it convenient.

 “Choose Yourself,” has the tagline, “Be Happy, Make Millions, Live the Dream.”  I’m pretty sure that for James, what is most important is being happy.  On a couple of occasions in his life, James has had millions of dollars.  But he wasn’t happy and he wasn’t living the dream.  He was barely sleeping, his body was a wreck, and he didn’t have any friends.  In 2002, he lost fifteen million dollars in fifteen weeks.  He had a similar crash in 2008.

 

Each time, what got James back on his feet is something he calls the Daily Practice.   Essentially, it means taking care of yourself physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

What’s the use of millions of dollars if  you hate yourself and you have no friends and you can’t take a comfortable shit every morning?

The Daily Practice can be overwhelming if you haven’t pooped or had sex in a long time, and you’re tired and you hate your job and your brain feels stale and dead inside.  The good news is  James says that you don’t need to fix everything all at once.  Remember, we are only becoming highly effective, mediocre people.  No sweat.  We can all do this.

I was listening to an interview with James on  mygreenlight.com, and James says that if you are looking to begin somewhere, start by getting enough sleep and then recognizing the abundance that is already in your life.  For instance, James says, if you’re stuck in traffic, instead of being pissed off about wasting time, focus on the abundance of cars.  So many cars, so much human development.  So much prosperity.  Or at least a lot of car payments. 

From about January to the end of May, I’ve been pretty irritated about my life.  I’d been waking up at 4 or 4:30 a.m., cranking myself through a vigorous and somewhat neurotic yoga practice and then hoofing it to work where I nag at small children to push in their chairs and wash their dirty hands in French.  Every week, I was missing more than a full night of sleep, about two hours every night.  I became volatile, hysterical. I thought I would kill the children I worked with. My body developed these weird neurological twitches.  Throughout the day, my shoulders would shrug involuntarily. My esophagus would contract as though I were going to puke. Most mornings before leaving for work I would throw a hysterical fit about some tragic issue like how I didn’t have time to take a shit, my pants were dirty, the new kid was a total brat, and my boss would probably make me stay late. 

The miracle of yoga had never been less abundant.

Fortunately, about a month ago, my left knee swelled up on my way to work. 

Here’s my knee, after the physiotherapist taped it up and it looked like a scrotum.



My Scrotum Knee. My pants pulled down

Now I sleep in until about 5:30.  I do half as many yoga poses.  I am two hundred times less bitchy.

My knee is healing really well.  It doesn’t look like a scrotum anymore.

And my shoulder and esophagus twitch significantly less.

I have energy to do more of the Daily Practice.  I read. I write down ideas, even the stupid ones, not every day, but when I think of it, and don’t feel too self-conscious.  I try not to be so pissed off about everything.  That was hard when I was really tired.  Now I am not as tired and so it is easier.

It is also easier to see the abundance.  Before I would look at my work day and see eight and a half hours to kill and waste, plus the commute. 

Being grateful for what I had seemed impossible.  I could barely say thank you to the busdriver.  He was driving me somewhere I didn’t want to go.  When I thought of saying thank you, I’d get a lump in my throat and feel nauseous and ashamed. 

I’ve been forcing myself to say thank you to the bus driver, every day.  As I get less tired, I feel more sincere. 

Although I’m not making millions of dollars, or living the dream exactly, I am trying to be as happy I can be, right now.  Sometimes I feel bitter and disappointed that I don’t have as much time to write and do yoga as I want.  But at least I have some time.  More than most people. 

Also, there is some abundance in my job.  I get to walk all the time.  This helps me to not be constipated or fat.  The school has really big windows and I can always see the sky.  Plus the children are full of abundance. They are full of youth and snot and sometimes diarrhea.  And if you listen, they say many interesting things.

Last week, a five-year-old asked me if I had boobies.  An hour later, a two-year-old looked at me from across the sandbox and said, “Erica, you don’t have any nipples.”

James Altucher says that most people should quit their jobs.  Probably he is right.  Someday I will quit my job.  Or maybe I will get fired for my radical views on potty training. That is my dream. To get fired because of the potty training. But while I am waiting, I'm going to think about my nipples and laugh.

The End.

Thank you, James. You’ve done wonders for my outlook.  And you don’t need to pay me back for the book, because my life is already full of abundance.

Watch James Altucher explain Choosing Yourself, in 13 minutes:

 

Follow James Altucher on Twitter: @jaltucher

Check out James's Blog www.jamesaltucher.com

Me and my vagus nerve: @mypelvicfloor

Ecstasy, Exuberance, Oxytocin and Abundance on Facebook

I Let Go, self-help book by Erica J. Schmidt 

What the fuck should I do with my life, Part One
Not Separate From All That Is
Prozac Made Me a Better Person

What Writing Feels Like, A Couple More Excuses for Bailing on Lent, Plus How the Equinox Brought the Resurrection of the Mouth Guard

I am having more dreams about losing my teeth.  First they become very loose and then they fall out one by one and my gums bleed and I wake up distraught because I have no dental insurance, and no money.  Time to start wearing my mouth guard again. 

There are now 18 more days left of Lent.  As I already mentioned, the Boatman and I bailed on our Lent sacrifices.  To our credit, I wanted to say that the Boatman and I already make stoic sacrifices all throughout the year.  Each time one of us gets a cold-sore, oyster-shaped or otherwise, we have to give up kissing and oral sex, sometimes for weeks at a time.  It requires an exorbitant amount of self-control, which I’m sure Jesus would appreciate. 

In other news, Suzanne Robicheau wants to feature me in her column St. Mary’s Writes, affiliated with St. Mary’s University where I work as a part-time writing tutor.  The column profiles St. Mary’s staff and students with recent publications.  Lucky for me, my self-published e-book, I Let Go counts as a publication.  Suzanne sent me a couple of interview questions which she will use to write her article.  I found the questions to be quite thought-provoking and I’d like to share my answers with you. 

Erica visits in 2016: Ultimately, the article was never published, perhaps because in answer to my first question, I mention a worm whose name is strangely close to Cunnilingus. I used to think the word for Cunnilingus was Cunningulus. I also thought Camel Toe was Camel Tongue. And that spooning actually involved spoons. I guess it was an information transmission issue.

How does it feel to publish your first book?

In my book, “I Let Go,” I forbid public self-deprecation unless you are a stand-up comic.  Hence, I cannot undermine myself by stating that anyone in the world can publish an e-book on Amazon.  As long as you don’t swear too much and stay away from pornography, they’ll take you.  You can even make spelling mistakes.  That said, I am very happy to have seen a project from start to finish.  If people read it, that’ll be even better.  My illustrator Sara Enquist and I have been talking about putting together a book for some time.  It was supposed to be about a worm named Cunningulus, who used to be a Very Powerful King in a different lifetime, but then we changed our minds. 

Why self-publish?

Publishing with a publishing house can take centuries, if not forever.  I am actually going through the traditional publishing process for the epistolary novel that I wrote with my ex-boyfriend Simon Girard. 

We found a publisher (Bookland Press, Toronto) in a miraculously short amount of time.  Maybe it’s because I’m an excellent speller.  Likely Simon’s previous novels also had a bit to do with it.  I’m delighted, but it’ll probably be another year before The Little Savage and the Hermit is released.  When you self-publish, you can theoretically get your stuff out there in less than a week.  And there is less rejection, although you still risk rejection and devastation if nobody buys your book.

Another perk is the royalties.  On Amazon, they start at 35% for a book under $2.99.  For books $2.99 and up, you get 70%, but you might have to pay for delivery costs.  Sara and I opted for the 35% royalties so that our book would cost even less than a Starbucks coffee. 

(Update from 2016: Alas, Bookland Press went out of business before they could publish, The Little Savage and the Hermit. Simon Girard jumped off his apartment building on January 4, 2015. I have tried to resurrect the redeemable parts of our epistolary novel in various blog entries.)

Why an e-book?

This is a first edition and we didn’t really have a budget.  Eventually, we would love to put out another print version with more illustrations.  You can put a print-by-demand book out on Createspace for fairly cheap; however, this raises the minimum costs for consumers.  Since we’re not yet that famous and we still want tons of people to read our book, for now, we have put out an accessible version than anyone can afford.  So it’s an e-book and it’s only two dollars.  If you can’t afford it, let me know and I’ll hook you up. (ericaschmidt85@gmail.com)

What do you write about?

I don’t usually write self-help books.  “I Let Go” is my first.  In section (OO), I grant myself and my readers the permission to indulge in our obsessions, regardless of what everyone else thinks.  Here it is: 

(OO)  Feel free to have motifs and repeat them.  I am forever going on about Margaret Atwood and humping duvets and 1008 details involving my pelvis.  I keep telling myself that everyone is tired of hearing about my pelvis when in truth, hardly anyone has heard anything about it.  If I don’t know you, which will be the case for about 999 900 of my dear readers, this is probably your first time reading about it - my pelvis.  And so I’m allowed to go on and on.  You are too.  Whether your motif is your pelvis or your heart chakra or your favourite Nanaimo Bar recipe.  Own it and go on and on.

Therefore, I am free to go on and on about Margaret Atwood and the lime green duvet with turquoise daisies on it, and humping this duvet and the sensations in my pelvis, and the crookedness of my pelvis, and anything I want about my pelvis depending on the day.  On and on I go.  Me and Margaret Atwood and my pelvis thrusting on the duvet.  I own all of it.  I also feel very compelled to write about yoga, food, bodily functions and dysfunctions, Jesus, eating disorders, sex, and people with disabilities.  A lot of this comes from my own experience.  I had a writing professor who warned us “not to just write what you know, or you’ll never know anything else, and then you’ll be in trouble.”  I think you’ll be in trouble if you don’t write what you’re compelled to write.

What is the writing process like for you?

It can be a bit of a crapshoot, but no matter what, I show up to the page every morning.  I used to be a religious practitioner of “Morning Pages,” designed by Julia Cameron, author of The Artist Way.  Morning Pages entail 3 pages of uninhibited stream-of-consciousness writing to be done upon waking.   Julia Cameron views this practice as a sort of Active Meditation that is meant to bring you in touch with your Higher Creative Self.  Very often it also brings you in touch with your angst and frustration, and everything in the world that you have to do besides writing.  For around five years, I woke up every morning, drank a wackload of coffee and wrote my morning pages.  I have no regrets.  Sometimes my morning pages led to creative insight and artistic breakthroughs and my Higher Creative Self.  Many other times, however, it simply led to excessive rumination and self-absorption and creative paralysis.  Plus my stream-of-consciousness rarely became very coherent or legible.  Thus, for me morning pages are no longer a daily requirement.  That said, I still like to warm up to writing with a bit of a scrawled out journal-type entry first thing in the morning.  But I don’t force myself to write three pages and if I feel like working on something more concrete (such as answering these questions), I’ll do that.

Once the coffee is finished, my writer’s warm-up continues with two hours of Ashtanga Yoga.  I am a very physical person and I really need that outlet or else the angst is unbearable.  For the rest of the day, I write wherever and whenever I can.  I work in cafes, or on the bus, or at home with the dog.  I always carry my notebook with me in my purse.  No matter what I’m doing, writing is always at the back of my mind.  Everything else is preparation, inspiration. 

What are the rewards of writing?

For me, writing is the best way to get over the crappiest things that happen to you.  If you don’t write it down, then you suffer for nothing.  But when you write it down, that embarrassing and horrific situation is just a story.  And if you can make other people laugh, that’s even better. 

What impact does it have on your role as a writing tutor when you model professional writing?

I am very relieved to have switched from academic and professional writing to writing pretty much whatever I want.  Having made that transition, I have vast empathy for anyone who has to write an essay, particularly a literary essay, which to me seems about as challenging as performing brain surgery.  I hope that I am able to exude this compassion when students come to me at the writing centre.  I am also an expert on writer’s block, a common affliction for the students I see. 

Who are your mentors??

When I was seventeen, I corresponded a little bit with Carol Shields (author of The Stone Diaries, and Unless, among many other books).  She told me that I would never be bored because I seemed like one of those lucky people who could live in the moment.  She also said that all the excitement lay in words, literature, and in the life of the mind, and that these gifts would never desert me.  Every time I feel discouraged about my writing endeavours, I think of Carol.

That’s all for Suzanne’s questions.  Hope you enjoyed them.  Feel free to come up with your own answers.  

Happy Spring to All!  It’s a great day for a biodegradable poem.  And a toenail fungus appointment, for that matter.

Hope to see you in my dreams.  I’ll smile at you with a mouthful of teeth. 

The End.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook.
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go by Erica J. Schmidt

Why I am different from Margaret Atwood and what I don't gain from humping duvets.
Five Days of Creative Recovery
Simon's Genies, Creative Practice and the Exuberant Bodhisattva's Big Exciting Blog News
 

Yesterday I Almost Died Writing A Self-Help Book

It was supposed to be about my nine compartments of gurus (COGS).  I wanted to tell everyone about my gurus.  The sky friends and the vegan life coach and Darby and James Altucher.  

About.com says that Guru is a math equation with a plus sign.  

Gu + Roo=Guru.  

“Gu” means "dark gooey attachment."  Attachments are terrible things that make you steal hair elastics from Loblaws and not recycle your peanut butter jar.   Fortunately, there is also a roo, which means “a (liberating) ray of light.”  About.com puts brackets around liberating.  That’s probably because you have to choose for your gurus to liberate you.  Or not.  Take the brackets off.  Or leave them on.  Find the eternal and internal spaciousness of your pelvis.  Or forget about it.  Steal the hair elastics.  Or pay for them.  The peanut butter jar has a similar story, but it involves a sink and a clear blue recycling bag. 

Yesterday, I must have left the brackets around the liberating because all I could see was the goo around my pelvis and I couldn't write a thing.  The goo was so hideous and abundant that me and the dog and the Boatman almost drowned. 

I didn't want to resort to stealing hair elastics or throwing away the peanut butter jar, so I emailed James Altucher.   He was supposed to be in the guru self-help book that I was supposed to write in 3 to 7 days.  I got the whole idea from James's book "I was blind, but now I see." (P.S.  I have noticed that very successful people are very prompt in responding to emails. I put brackets around this observation, but I could quite easily take them off.) I told James about the goo, and James was very empathetic and told me to focus on what I had to do for the rest of the day.  "That's all there is." 

Some days are really terrible for writing about gurus.  You'd do much better to make hummus.  So the Boatman and I went to Canadian tire,  and we picked out a blender and that's what we did.  Tomorrow's another day for liberating rays of light, but for now we have veggies and dip.  

The End.

The book got written! Hurray!
I Let Go by Erica J. Schmidt, illustrated by Sara E. Enquist

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor

You Cling To Things Until They Die
I read Choose Yourself by James Altucher and My Oxytocin Levels Increased Immediately
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