Wednesday, July 14, 2010

There is a line in a song in a musical most everyone knows. Like all the other lines in the song it details the many ways in which a person might quantify their life yet poignantly suggests the author's preferred method. Never having seen the stage performance of this Broadway musical I close my eyes and picture instead the opening credits of the movie version.

On a dark stage there stands only the stars of the musical, evenly spaced and illuminated solely by perfectly placed white spotlights. As the camera pans they begin to sing drawing you in with the crescendo and decrescendo of their voices leading you through chorus and verse with beautiful solos delicately balanced by the spectacular harmonies until the end which, almost redundantly, reminds you to, "measure your life in love".

There seems to be an ever-blurring line between hometowns and Hollywood. The "silver screen" is quickly being replaced by the HD, 3D, IMAX, scratch and sniff experience of the theater today while the hum drum priorities of yester-year ride off into the sunset as well. People used to turn to movies and television for entertainment, an escape into an imaginative world, but it seems we are now looking to these outlets for insight into our culture or, perhaps more precisely, a definition of it. I point out the growing popularity of "reality tv" and its impact in a preemptive defense against the idea that I ought not turn to "the arts" for life's wisdom and guidance.

Aside from the delightful tone of the actor's voices and the catchy tune of the chorus I am drawn in by the subtle lyrics of the verses which serve as a reminder that we often miss important moments in our lives by deeming them unimportant and we too often fill our epitaph with accomplishments which matter very little in the end. The musical RENT is about people from all walks of life facing life's triumphs and tribulations and concluding that no matter the celebration or strife our greatest gift to give or receive is love.

Theater or not, if there is any truth to these sentiments then I deem myself rich and far more accomplished than many I've known or will know in my life. I am loved by family, friends, a beautiful woman and her son and I love them in return. When measured I find there is no greater stature than the love I experience daily!

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Beware of Reoccurring Ignorance...

It has been over ten years since I first admitted to myself that my interest in the female form and function was of greater appeal than that of other women I knew and nearly ten years since I began admitting it to others. In the beginning my confessions were met wtih the harsh "Christian" rhetoric about sin and repentence and followed by loss after loss of love and support. It took me a long time to accept who I am, this woman God made me to be, and even longer to let go of the hurt others caused me in His name but I feel as though I overcame those obstacles a few years back and, perhaps foolishly, I was unprepared to face them again.

We encounter many signs in our day to day lives. "STOP", "YIELD", "SLOW Children at Play", "BEWARE OF DOG", "NO SMOKING", etc...but I suggest that a sign that reads: "Beware of Reoccurring Ignorance" would be especially helpful. Jen and I have been going strong for a little over 4 months, which hardly quantifies the depth our relationship has reached. In those four months we've dealt with many challenges ranging from divorce to surgery and a few hiccups in between and have landed on both feet, still running toward one another with arms outstretched. Still, as the ink dries on her divorce papers and we begin to dream up all of the exciting ways we are going to celebrate her newly found freedom a foe, I once knew so well, has begun to rear its ugly head.

In the name of all things Holy her soon to be ex has declared that he doesn't like how much time I spend with Cody and whether that is a result of his jealousy due to his own failure as a husband and father to this point or not he, with his hand on the Bible, is preparing his protest against all things homosexual. For the first time in many years I am hearing, by relay from Jen, how God says "Adam and Eve" not "Eve and Eve" etc...and though those words and the others no longer carry the guilt and shame and fear of damnation they used to hold over me they do provide a rarely encountered flashback of my coming out. To look on the bright side one might interject that these proclamations do not send me running back to my closet with tear soaked cheeks and that, that is a testimony of my growth and healing. However, I find little solace in having removed myself from the clutches of self-loathing when I consider what his ignorance is going to cost Jen and Cody in the weeks and months to come.

At this point he knows that Jen and I have previously "fooled around" because he found cards and other keepsakes that are evidence to that but we have agreed it is better that he not know the extent of our relationship until after the judge has signed the papers and legally pronounced their divorce. The time is coming very soon though when he will realize, or be told by Cody, that Jen and I are a fully functioning couple with no plan of changing that and then the real fun will begin. it is likely that he will fight Jen for custody of Cody, which is beyond ridiculous considering his lack of presence in Cody's short 5 years, but what is even more insane is that his basis for wanting Cody will largely center around his belief that his mother and I are unfit to parent Cody given the "environment" we will subject him to and NOT his actual desire to be a full time parent to Cody himself.

I remember when I first came out to my mom, through her tears she exclaimed that I shouldn't ever have children. Her proclamation was deeply rooted in her Catholic upbringing but fertilized by the hardship she anticipated a child with two moms or dads would encounter. The world has changed a lot in the last 10 years but in addition to that Jen and I live in a city that is far more progressive than the town I grew up in. I know many gay parents and their children are just as mal-adjusted as all of the "traditional" family's kids. In all seriousness, I know how much Jen loves Cody not to mention the fact that she has been nearly his sole care giver for almost 6 years and adding me, someone who also loves him very much and wants nothing but the best for him, to the mix could only give him a better chance at surviving this crazy world.

I'm nervous about the fight that is to come. Jen and I are adults and can shoulder the slander her ex is likely to produce but Cody is only a child, one whose life has recently been reorganized and I worry about how he will handle the reoccurring ignorance.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

A Little Time to Marinade...

I know that I should strive to write more than once a month but the fact that I didn't write at all in the month of April is a testament to the fact that it was a crazy month in general and I simply do not know where all of the time went. What I do know is that this year is escaping and if I'm not careful it is going to disappear completely and I wont even notice.

So, it is the second day of the fifth month of the year and though I believe happiness to be a subjective and intangible, if not completely fluid, creation of our psyche I would like to report that I also believe that after 29 years of pursuing it I may be finally gaining ground. Since I am content with no one person's definition of happiness and have often mistakingly mislabeled my own I hesitate to make such a proclamation and yet this time, in ways I cannot discribe as anything other than dissimilar from others, I actually think I'm getting it right.

Since the distinguished age of 16 I have attempted to live my life based on the pre-paved routes other well intentioned people have suggested. Whether it was religious influence, rebelious influence, psychological influence, or other more subtle nudges every thought and action has been guided by an idea or direction first planted by another. Don't get me wrong, I have not been a puppet on a string perse, but I have certainly allowed myself to be jerked around more times then I care to admit. I also don't want to suggest that all who have pushed me in one direction or another have done so maliciously, though some have been careless in their efforts without question. Though it is cliche it is no less accurate to say that my life has been a journey but it seems I am finally ready to pave my own paths and decide my own directions.

I had the most simple and amazing conversation with Jen tonight. The topic isn't nearly as important as the resulting realizations nor are the two at all related. What I realized as I watched her drive away, aside from the fact that I am ridiculously in love with her, is that what is good for one may not be good for another and what is bad for one may not be bad for another. Please pay careful attention to my use of "good" and "bad" as opposed to "right" and "wrong" as I honestly believe right and wrong aren't nearly as subjective as good and bad.

Jen is perhaps the most similar partner I've ever had. We are more than like-minded we are like-hearted, something that makes our relationship both intensely easy and difficult all at once. Still, among all of our similarities, there are striking differences that we are beginning to realize and learn to navigate through. I'm going to need to give the concepts I am learning through my relationship with her more time to marinade before I cook them up and serve them to cyberworld...

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Lies That Linger...

oh the lies that linger
they sit inside my head
drain my sense of self
and replace with fear instead

they are the root of evil
not money as we'd thought
lies weave their tangled webs
and within them I am caught

oh how I long to chase them
from the shadows into light
where their parisitical destruction
cannot hide from truth's delight

but alas there is no refuge
from the depth of lies in wait
only patience and persistence
of truth to demonstrate...

Saturday, March 6, 2010

A Series of Analogies...

Well, it has been nearly a month since I last flipped open my brain and let the insanity run free and though I had heard the whiny "when can we go out and play" from all the crazy voices in my head I didn't realize it had been quite so long. The old adage "Time flies when you're having fun" appears to be ringing especially true these days as I flip the calendar on yet another month and try to remember where January and February went.

In recent years it has seemed as though months were passing as quickly as days used to and I considered that maybe the adage should be changed to "Time flies when you're miserable". What I resolve to think now, though, is that both are true but only one of these, the former, is something we complain about.

A lot has happened in the last month or so. Work is slowly returning to a normal and manageable pace, volleyball season is in full swing and my team is steadily climbing its way to the top and peaking just in time for the tournament at the end of this month, I fell in love with a great girl who shows me in new ways each day how much she loves me, and a lot of friendships have begun changing shape, beginning and ending as well. Ordinarily this kind of rapid fire change and shifting perspectives would overwhelm me and create in me and exhausted and emotional mess but these days I seem to be empowered to take each new thing in stride, put it in its place, and keep moving forward.

It has been a solid 3 months since I closed the book on one chapter and started writing a new book entirely. It was more than time for a theme change and the introduction of new characters coupled with the release or rewriting of old was long overdue as well. Now, as the plot thickens the central character is reflecting on all previous storylines and growing leaps and bounds as she breaks the chains of turmoils past and comes into her renewed sense of self and others. I am not a new woman just the same woman refreshed I'm enjoying the transposed juxtaposition.

For a long time I've felt as though I was tied to the bottom, requesting and requiring others to pull me along behind them to the top. Now though, I feel like I've taken my rightful position at the front of the line, leading the way in my life and simply inviting others to come along or allowing them to walk away if they choose. Finally I am genuinely okay with this being my journey and my journey alone. It is bright and beautiful and worth going on but I'm no longer in need of a guide nor will I beg for companions.

So, my bags are packed and I've got my walking shoes on...who is with me?

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Yellow caution tape...

So many people have told me that until your heart has been completely shattered you can't know it's strength, capacity to recover, or, ultimately, its resilience to love again. As the words fumbled from their mouths and climbed my walls to be heard I, admittedly scoffed at the possibility that they could be right. After all, what sense does it actually make to live under the assumption that one cannot truly love until they've experienced the devastation of true heartbreak? Logically it becomes a riddle: If you must have your heart broken to ever truly love and you can't have your heart completely broken without truly loving wouldn't logic follow that no one ever truly loves or has their heart completely broken?

It is thoughts like these that keep me up until the wee hours of the morning and keep companies like Advil and Tylenol in business. Still, I'm solidly aware that this is a gross over-complication of an otherwise simple reality. Without test there can be no measurement and without measurement no source of accolade or admonishment.

When my last relationship ended after nearly 2 years of hardship and heartache I felt as though my heart had been dipped in dry ice and then thrown, major league style, against a wall. It wasn't that I'd never experienced disappointments or sorrow, rejection or betrayal before it was just that I had never given of myself so completely and been devastated in quite that way. Like a forensic unit after a homicide, I quarantined my life behind yellow caution tape, drew chalk outlines and took mental photographs of all the pieces scattered about trying to surmise the chain of events that lead to the horrific scene and, ultimately, aprehend a "culprit" to punish. As it turned out though the only person facing lock up was me.

I didn't think I'd recover from that heartache and I figured even if I did manage to normalize my life again I'd never dare take a risk on love. Now though I'm beginning to feel the strength and resilience so many of you spoke up during my darkest hours and I'm beginning to consider that maybe you were right all along. I have seen the days that felt like nightmares and I will never be surprised or crippled by them again, conversely I have also allowed my heart to run free and that is a risk I feel much more likely to repeat as time goes by.

I've been listening to a lot of music lately and finding that many of the songs really reach into my chest and keep my lungs filled with air. One such song is on the new Lady Antebellum cd. It's called "Love this Pain" and as I listened to the lyrics I felt it was a theme song I could have written for the last phase of my life, one which I can sing at the top of my lungs in the car and remember where I was but, more importantly, know, deeply, how far I've come.

Lady Antebellum: Love This Pain

She's no good for me
I know that she's a wild flower
She's got a restlessness
A beautiful mess, a thing about her
But here I am again calling her back
Letting her drive me crazy

It's like I love this pain a little too much
Love my heart all busted up
Something 'bout her, we just don't work
But I can't walk away
It's like I love this pain

It's just an on again
And off again situation
It's just striking a match
A tank of gas combination
But here I am again lighting it up
Knowing that she'll just burn me

It's like I love this pain a little too much
Love my heart all busted up
Something 'bout her, we just don't work
But I can't walk away
It's like I love this pain

It's like I love this life
When nothing's right, unless something's wrong
It's like I'm just not me
If I can't be a sad, sad song

It's like I love this pain a little too much
Love my heart all busted up

Something 'bout her, we just don't work
But I can't walk away
It's like I love this pain
Oh yeah, it's like I love this pain
I can't walk away, oh no
It's like I love this pain

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Sleep...

If there's anybody listening
may you hear my plea
for a little bit of rest tonight
escape from reality
because outside the snow is falling
and tomorrow work will come
and all I really want right now
is a heavy dose of numb
from the stresses of the daytime
and toss and turning of the night
I'm annoyed with all this winter
and the cold is not polite
so I'm simply asking
okay begging if I must
as I close my eyes this evening
fall asleep or bust!