Sunday, December 23, 2012

"I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas..."

"I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas, only a hippopotamus will do..."

What am I talking about? Many of you may be familiar with this old Christmas song. Honestly I was quite old before I first heard it.

This song has a deeper meaning for me as an adult, it's a dream for Christmas. A large, seemingly, unattainable Christmas gift. A gift that can neither fit under the tree nor be wrapped. It cannot be bought at a store. It's an intangible.

This year I have many intangibles for Christmas, not for myself but for so many others in my life. They need a Christmas miracle. They need Santa to deliver a hippopotamus through the front door. Health, financial security, a home...beyond the esoteric wishes for world peace, there are so many in my life who need inner peace. A peace that comes from being secure in where you are, of not having to question at every turn what tomorrow may bring. From where will we get the next meal? Will we have a place to call home? How will I provide for those I love...for myself?

Yes, I too need a hippopotamus but I want so much for the others in my life to get their hippopotamuses. If they received this gift I would benefit in my not feeling the need to worry so about each of them.

Christmas is going to be meager around these parts but there's always someone worse off than yourself. The problem is I know so many worse off to whom I am closely tied.

I wish for each of you your own hippopotamus, whatever that may be.

Merry Christmas and may we all have a prosperous, and healthy, new year.

I love this video of the song, Enjoy!


Monday, December 17, 2012

the voices in my head

No-one else can hear 

the voices in my head.

No-one else hears 

the things that they have said.

No-one else hears them wish that I were dead.

Until it all comes exploding, raging from my head

Rolling, boiling, tempest storm...

Crashing, destroying, consuming flood of hatred and scorn.

How do I silence them?

Is this truly my desire?

Or do I just wish no-one else heard them...EVER

How do I protect others from that which is within me?

Every day the fire builds and threatens to consume me...

I want it to consume me
But without others in the way.

I'd rather that they have no clue

The darkness deep within

Ever rising to the surface 

Threatening kith and kin
With the knowledge of my sins

It's true no day passes
I desire to stay alive

But I'd rather shelter others
From the knowledge of this desire

I fear realisation of this longing's the only way
These voices will ever cease
And I'll have a "normal" day

Embrace the dark stranger

Who comes to steal your breathe

For death's the only answer

To these voices in my head

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Swords into plowshares...

The elections are over and, whether or not you agree, the people have spoken.

I don't claim to completely understand or agree with the electoral college process especially as it seems counterintuitive to the "popular vote," but it is how it's done and as far as what I've seen so far tonight seems to reflect the popular vote.

I have in light of tonight's events seen poor sportsmanship on the part of members of both parties. Disparaging remarks made about and toward the "losing" party, and the wailing and bemoaning of said party. The gnashing of teeth and rending of clothes, as it were, as die hard Romney supporters bemoan Obama's re-election.

Like him or not, he is our President for another 4 years. I would respect the office regardless of its inhabitant but will concede it's easier to respect the President when he is your choice and you are able to agree with more of his policies. Nonetheless, I offer my support to whomever takes office in whatever way possible.

That being said, I wholeheartedly believe if we have any hope of repairing what is wrong in this country we must set aside our political differences, get behind the President, and do what we can to advance progress, and improvement. We don't have to agree with all his policies, decisions, or actions, but we don't have to disagree and fight him at every turn either, just because he may not have been our personal choice.

A friend said it best as polls were just closing and numbers were only beginning to come in, I hope they won't mind my quoting them: "Who is this "them" and "us".....no matter who the winner is we are all Americans. It is no one's business but my own who I voted for, but one thing for sure is that if you didn't vote for who I did I don't consider you to be "them"....sad."

There is no "them" and "us," only "we the people" all the people, the citizens of this great country in which ALL men are created equal and all bear a responsibility to uphold that which we hold sacred, without influence of our political or religious beliefs or any other personal bias.

So now that the elections are over and the victor has been declared let us beat our swords into plowshares, roll up our sleeves, band together and press onward!


Thursday, October 25, 2012

An exercise in futility...

I began this blog, as previously mentioned, by the impetus of friends with the intention of using it as therapy, to keep from bottling it all up, to express myself.

It was hoped that it would have both positive and negative posts, hopefully with more on the positive side. It has had more negative I fear.

Perhaps a heated election year was not the time for one with high aspirations of equal rights for all, even gays and women, to begin a new blog. Perhaps it was especially egregious as the bulk of my facebook friends are right wing, christians, who feel the bible should override decency, compassion, and the legal rights of ALL citizens.

So here I sit more than 3 months after my last post, having dwindled my facebook friends down to a pittance of where it was, writing again...

An exercise in futility? A waste of an attempt? Have I learned anything in this last year?

A great deal has happened in my life since I began this venture, most of it not good, but I have learned. I've failed to care for myself, I've gained weight, I've taken care of others, I've internalized, but I have learned.

I've learned no matter how old we may be, or how mature we believe ourselves to be, we all have moments where our juvenile tendencies prevail.

I've learned there is a reason we were all taught to avoid certain topics when speaking with others and that this needs to include online interactions.

I've learned that while I've long thought I was secure, and even comfortable, in my identity that one word or action from another can send me into a whirlwind of doubt and self-loathing. I've learned that no amount of scientific data is going to change some peoples minds on the "choices" some of us have made in advancing "the gay agenda."

Most frighteningly, I have learned that I am probably homophobic. Not in general, I don't have any dislike or hate for the community as a whole, I just have a long-held, deeply ingrained hatred of self that stems from my upbringing and is called out at the slightest little inference from one of those with whom I spent my youth.

So, as a result, I've also learned that facebook was the mistake I had always feared it would be and I cannot have contact with most of those people because while I have no questions regarding who I am and why that's alright in this world they can certainly make me question my self worth.

I have also learned that I don't need to internalize all of this and that these feelings are okay provided I'm willing to work through them and continue a voyage of self discovery that will eventually lead to my realizing I'm worth more than I think.

Narcissistic? Egomaniacal?  I don't believe so. Just finally giving myself what's long overdue. A little self adulation, a little love, and a little acceptance for those things I can't change and a little understanding as I work on those that I can.

I'll end with this quote which I find rather humourous, not because of what it says, but because of its author and the idea that he may find my use "unworthy":

"Sometimes the hardest part of the journey is believing you're worthy of the trip."
~Glenn Beck, The Christmas Sweater

Thursday, July 5, 2012

"God Bless America"

The last week has been quite interesting for me from a political standpoint. First let me point out that I never really thought of myself as being very political at all, that was before I joined Facebook and saw the type of content I was posting.


We have all heard the old adage regarding the 3 topics that should never be part of polite conversation, money, religion, and politics. Well it seems that's no longer true and no-one is willing to hold their tongues on any of them.


The week began with a rather heated discussion regarding a political topic in which, in my opinion, a friend irresponsibly claimed the topic made us a socialist nation. That discussion deteriorated into a difference in religious perspective and my choosing to be gay, or more pointedly why do I identify as gay if I'm not "living the gay lifestyle." Man up and accept god kind of thing.

More troubling for me was yesterday's occurrence. I understand we all have varying political, and religious, views truth be told I believe that's part of what makes this country so great that we CAN have those opinions. In as much I have kept it no secret as to my struggle in believing in the christian's version of god, but I believe there may be a time and place  where those opinions may, or may not, be more appropriately expressed.

Case in point, an Independence Day tribute posted to a Facebook wall. I saw it happen repeatedly yesterday and it happened on my own wall.

There are very few great songs regarding this country that do not have some reference to a higher being. I read somewhere the other day a comment regarding one's belief that this referenced a  more universal god, an idea of some great benevolence and protector that was part of the human experience and enveloped this country. I rather like that idea especially in light of this country's foundation of "Freedom of religion." We can NOT in any way be a theocracy and still recognise that great tenet of the founding fathers. But I digress...

I posted the words to God Bless America  as part of my Independence Day tribute to both this country and to those who have sacrificed for our freedoms and a friend took that platform as an opportunity to comment on their opinion that this is no longer a free country. An opportunity to once again slam a President of whom they don't approve.

If I can overlook the use of god in a song that I feel is a tribute to this land why can't you overlook your politics for just a few moments and be grateful for what we do have?

I have always tried to give each President the benefit of the doubt, and support them as much as I can. I may not always approve of everything he does, nor am I likely to approve of his politics at every turn, but he is OUR President and deserves our respect and support.

So let us at least occasionally put down our swords and pick up the banner of freedom and proudly declare what a great country this REALLY is showing our support for not only our country but for all those who have given so much that we are afforded these freedoms, however minor you may feel they be...indeed "God Bless America!"

"While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer. "

...
God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.

~ Irving Berlin


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zF7a0wB-Lg

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Happy Father's Day

What is Father's Day to a man with no children? To a man who has never had a REAL relationship with his own Father, or Dad?

I never, of a conscious age, knew my biological father and, for reasons I'll not go in to, never will. Truth be told I had no desire to meet the man or learn more about him. I now know I have at least one other sibling via this man but I am lead to believe he doesn't know that my sister and I exist. This is all inconsequential to Father's Day.

There is a man I am happy to call Dad. While he is no longer married to my Mother and I have some personal issues with his way of parenting, as do my siblings, he is Dad. We have something of a "Cat's in the Cradle" relationship, he didn't seem to have much time for me as a child and, unfortunately, I won't give him much now. He did however take on an instant family when he married my Mom so I have to give him a certain amount of respect for being willing to at least try. In my opinion, he missed the mark in many ways but he was willing to try.

I, probably, knew early on that we wouldn't have a relationship when I became an adult and their divorce put an even larger wedge between us. I grew up and moved away, he left the house, so now when I visit it's too easy to avoid him, much like I felt he avoided me in earlier years. There really is no positive spin I can put on this, I am failing him as a son, now consciously as opposed to the failure I was subconsciously for being who I am to begin with, and he, in my warped mind, has failed in some ways as a Dad. I will always love him but I will never feel like I was truly his son or that he will ever accept me for who, and what, I am. That, therefore, may always keep us from a REAL relationship. We all fail, we're human, we just need to learn from our failures and try to make the best of the time we have left, especially with those we love. No matter how they may have hurt us, or seemingly continue to hurt us, we must learn to put that aside in hopes of developing the relationship we'd like to nurture.

I have always had issues with men I suppose that's why I've always been single. I don't trust them, they make me uncomfortable, they by their very presence can make me feel inadequate, stupid, and like a little kid again, and personal history has taught me they will always abandon you. There is always something in their lives they'd rather have than you, or rather be doing than being with you.Trust issues? Maybe a little...

Someday I hope to find a man who will prove me wrong on all those counts. Someday I hope my Dad and I can forge a real relationship based on mutual love, respect, and acceptance. I don't see that happening any time soon but I hope we have enough time left to see it occur.

Happy Father's Day!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUwjNBjqR-c



Saturday, April 7, 2012

What's in a name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." 
                                                                            ~William Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet

There are words, names, and phrases, all of which have the ability to conjure certain feelings, images, or emotions within each of us. Some evoke luxury, think Cartier or Rolls Royce, Tiffany, or Fabergé. Some make us think of our childhood, our families, friends, and "home." Others instill fear, loathing, and anger, perhaps by no fault of their own, but by the subconscious bridge our thought patterns pursue upon hearing them.

The same can often be said of aromas, or other sensory perceptions. I have a series of childhood memories that flood my senses every time I smell a particular brand of dishwashing liquid. The scent of certain food stuffs automatically sends me into the warmth of my Grandmother's kitchen and her loving arms, but I digress.

A name, the simple moniker by which most are known their entire lives, bestowed upon them at birth by, presumably, loving parents. What we make of that name as we grow into our own person is an entirely different matter. Part of this is, of course, influenced by our parents and family, some by our encounters with the outside world, and yet other aspects by our closest friendships, especially as we reach our teen years and seek to be a part of our peer group and be accepted by the crowd.

I encountered a name this evening that I have not heard in YEARS. A name which occasionally crosses the scope of my memory and, along with a few others with which it will always be associated in my mind, makes my heart skip a beat. Not the kind of skip a beat that comes with a secret crush, or longing, nor that of joy or rapture, no, this is the kind of skip from abject terror, fear, and, perceived, inferiority.

Deep down I knew this name still held that sway, despite having not encountered this individual in over twenty-five years, but I was ill prepared for just what it did to me seeing his name.

I was made part of a Facebook group, a group with which I am logically to be associated, and yet my knee-jerk reaction at seeing his post at the top of the group page was to remove myself from said group.

This man, a mere teen at last encounter, his brother, and one other young man, were all amongst those I most feared in my junior high and high school years, they were my bullies. They were the big men on campus, the jocks, the hyper-masculine, make the girls swoon, crush the competition, heroes of the halls. I was their target!

Now in hind-sight, I was just discussing with a friend that in grade school I was probably a bully. There are many things I recall having done to others in those years that, while I'm not proud of, would qualify as bully behaviours. Yet, by the fifth grade, I had reformed. I became a model student and the target of the bullies. I had hobbies and even ways of dress that set me apart, and apparently I was also a bit nelly. Prime fodder for getting your butt kicked figuratively, and physically.

Moving on to a private, Christian school only exacerbated the problem. Throw in these guys who, seemingly, ran the place and I was toast.

Mentally I know these names should no longer hold such sway, for all I know these men have grown into open-minded individuals willing to embrace the diversity that our world offers, but subconsciously, they will always be the closed-minded, bigoted, neanderthals that scared the hell out of me every time I had to be anywhere near them.

Even today I think of things I may say to others and wonder could that have hurt more deeply than I perceived? Have I been a bully? Did they see, in what I intended as a joke, some mean spirit hell bent on crushing them? I must, daily and in every encounter, more carefully choose my words and measure my actions that my name not instill in others the dread and fear that these names hold for me.

"The mouth is a powerful weapon and words can never be taken back. So remember that while you think you're being helpful, or are indeed just joking, the most powerful weapon in the world has the ability to destroy someone inside and out."   ~Unknown


Monday, April 2, 2012

Cleanliness is next to godliness...

I have heard people, erroneously, espouse countless things from the pulpit, implying that countless issues could prevent you from reaching the pearly gates.

I've heard one state that if you have been divorced you cannot be a Christian. Another occasion afforded me the opportunity to learn that you could not be overweight and a Christian. Of course we've all heard that "God hates fags," so apparently being gay also prevents you from calling yourself a Christian. I'm sure there are countless other preventions from calling yourself Christian, some of which I've heard and some I haven't.

All these reasons you cannot enter a relationship with God or indeed call yourself Christian. So I've decided to add to these misnomers and begin my own campaign for why you may not call yourself a Christian or in fact a member of any monotheism.

If "cleanliness is next to godliness" it stands to reason that you shouldn't call yourself a Christian if you are not organised and an exceptional housekeeper.

From a scriptural standpoint we are encouraged to be good stewards. How can you call yourself a good steward if you are failing to keep things clean? Why should you be imparted with anything more, or better, if you fail to take care of those things, however meager, you already have?

Alright, I'll admit, I'm an obsessive housekeeper. My standards may be a bit higher than most but I firmly believe that every item I own or with which I am entrusted deserves the utmost care. It is my responsibility to keep things in the best condition possible.

So what about the organisationally challenged, those with chronic disorganisation? What about those with psychological reasons for their lack of cleanliness, hoarders or people of that ilk? Is it the responsibility of those of us gifted with organisation and the "clean gene" to pick up the slack? Perhaps. There are those who pick up the slack in so many areas of the Church or life in general, each has his, or her, "gifts," perhaps it it yours to keep the world clean and organised.

I just wish, sometimes, that those who are cleanliness challenged would realise the work involved in cleaning and keeping clean their environments and perhaps try a little harder to keep from making more work for you just moments after you finished an area.

"Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely." P.J. O'Rourke

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

At what price "freedom?"

Do we as individuals have a tendency to allow others to deny us those things we know we need? Does our attempt at pleasing others keep us from attaining things we know we would enjoy, or even need? Do we, even as adults, give in to peer pressure thus denying ourselves for the sake of the group?

How do we decide what to deny ourselves simply because it may not be popular opinion?

Have you ever given up a large portion of yourself to keep from making waves or offending someone?

These are questions that lay a groundwork for a confession with which I have long fought. A confession about my spiritual well being.

Can I allow man to dictate my ability to have a relationship with God because they perceive my very existence as a sin? Is it not easier to choose not to believe in God rather than deal with the idea that some believe God hates fags? How does one who grew up in a Christian environment believe in two such different views that he was born gay and that God does indeed love him as He created him?

One must choose God. One cannot choose to be gay or straight.

I was once part of a very dynamic, Spirit filled, ministerial team. I loved my position and my relationship with both God and the church. In many ways I felt that the things I was doing as part of this ministry made me complete. Then I began to come to terms with who I knew myself to be, based on all I had been taught, the two could not coexist.

I left the ministry in order that I not be seen as a hypocrite. I wanted to be able to both "talk the talk and walk the walk" and being gay, presumably, kept me from that accomplishment. I so wanted to still be a part of the ministry not so much for what it may be doing in the lives of others, but for what it did for me and my life.

I have never at any other point in my life felt happier, more fulfilled, or more complete, than I did in my years of ministry. Part of me firmly believes that is where I still belong.

There is a line in one of my favorite films wherein Papa is going to teach his daughter, Yentl, while it is forbidden he is going to teach her Talmud yet insists she close the curtains. "Why Papa? I trust God will understand the neighbors I'm not so sure about." Even in my youth, long before I came out, this movie spoke volumes to me. She had such a thirst for knowledge, such a desire to know God, and yet because of who she was, she was denied that opportunity. I, being gay, was also meant to be denied the opportunity to reach the throne, at least that is what "the neighbors" believed.

My current spiritual stance is that of an Agnostic, not necessarily because I question the existence of God but because I do not believe in a God who fits within the parameters, and limitations, in which Christendom has tried to confine Him. I believe a benevolent God would accept me and use me as He created me. That I am exactly as He designed and that, somehow, that works within a framework of ministry and spiritual development for both myself and others. Somehow He wants me to be able to minister to others and still be myself. But where? Who, besides God, will accept me as I am and allow me to be part of a ministry?

It has recently come to my attention that there are those whom I did touch during my years of ministry and who have gone on to be fine, upstanding members of ministry teams themselves and have touched many and continue to minister as God sees fit. Therefore my ministry was not without fruit, God was able to use this gay guy to do His work, despite what man may have felt.

Some day I will be able to change my beliefs from Agnostic to Man of God. I will find a place wherein I can be accepted as well as ministered to and allowed to be ministered through.

So what did I give up for the "freedom" of coming out? I haven't REALLY given up that part of me, it just lays smoldering within awaiting His bellows to regain consumption. Until then, I trust God will understand, the neighbors I'm not so sure about.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wDqd7Sn9lE

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Gay for pay...

Admittedly there's not much I care to watch on television. With the yelling, backstabbing, and obvious editing for drama, reality shows have never held any merit. I very rarely make it beyond the first season no matter how much I like a show, in fact, I can  name only 2 shows I have ever watched beyond one season, although I have a couple shows this season which will probably make it to my 2 season viewing scope.

So that probably means I really have no place complaining about the current trend in programming.

I'm sorry but I'm getting REALLY tired of every show feeling the need to suddenly have a gay character or storyline. I hate to admit it but I realise that gay is the 'flavour of the month' if you will, but having a gay character or plot line that isn't in keeping with the show overall is just asinine.

Don't get me wrong I think it's great that they're more willing to have a gay character in a series, or that they're occasionally willing to cover the hardships of being gay in a thought provoking and fact based manner, I just don't think EVERY show needs a gay character or plot line. At the current rate of 'coming out' story lines, it's painfully obvious they're bucking for the 'gay dollar.' Do they really believe that gays are going to flock to their advertisers simply due to a poorly wrought, unbelievable, gay character or plot line?

Does this current trend amount to any more than "gay for pay?"  Is there really any difference between adding a never before seen character to your line up and having him come out, never to be seen again, touting this coming out story to every media outlet in hopes of raising revenue and the idea of someone like Cody Cummings going only so far in the fantasy keeping gay boys hoping while garnering thousands of dollars in profits from his being a total tool? Granted a good looking tool but still he's a money whore. Are these shows any different?

There are shows where it makes sense. There are shows where the character development leaves you wondering and it seems only natural that the character eventually reveals they're gay. Yet there are others where no amount of creative genius will make you believe that this was the natural progression of this character or story.

While we're on the subject, gays come in every shape and size with varying interests and talents, they should also quit pigeonholing their characters into the stereotypes that the straight community will recognise as 'gay.' They don't all do it but many do and someone, apparently, needs to explain to them that they're not only doing their character a disservice but the LGBT community as a whole.

Now back to your regularly scheduled program...

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The truth about cats and dogs...

I have a baby whom I absolutely adore. He is nearly fifteen years old and was adopted at the age of two. He had personality issues when we adopted him but we have embraced him flaws and all. A pet is a lifetime commitment. While their lives may not be as long as ours they are a part of us forever. Specifically, he will hold a large and special place in my heart far beyond his mortal years. I fear and dread the day I no longer wake to his love and companionship, no matter how he may at times annoy me. Much like a toddler he can get the best of me but he is my baby and I will ALWAYS love him. He is a spoiled rotten, mini dachshund.

That being said, I wish pet parents would adopt their animal children and give them all the love, attention, and care that they need and deserve. If you choose to adopt don't make your pet the neighbor's problem, keep tabs on your babies and keep them from interfering with the neighbors.

We have neighbors behind us who have taken to throwing their dogs business over our fence. Yes, I have a dog and you may assume that I'll not notice a little extra to clean up but you'd be wrong. My baby won't go in the grass and his mess is cleaned up after each occurrence. This, however, is not the worst offence.

We have neighbors with multiple cats who are allowed to roam the neighborhood. I have only recently learned to whom these cats belong. They have long terrorised our property, killing rodents, lizards, and birds, and leaving their parts about the yard. Terrorising the birdfeeders and, I'll admit with much grace and agility, stalking, hunting, and killing the birds. In one fluid movement they can jump into the air and land with a poor, defenseless bird in their teeth, sending countless others crashing into the sliding glass doors.

But today is the ultimate in aggravation! Having spent several hours, and dollars, planting new florals in a large section of the garden I went out to discover that the cats have dug large holes in the bed and uprooted several of the new plants.

As a rule I'm an animal lover but thoughts of murder crossed my mind as I viewed the many beheaded flowers and bare roots laying about the garden.

So do us all a favour, if you have cats keep them indoors. If you take your pet for a walk, clean up after them. If your pet should escape your yard do your utmost to rapidly retrieve them. And for the sake of your babies have their vaccines current and have them microchipped so that you can quickly be reunited with your baby and he/she will not have to suffer an extended stay, or worse, in some cold, cruel, shelter.

They love us unconditionally. Don't they deserve the best we can give them!

Friday, March 9, 2012

Are you worth more than you think? A study in self loathing.


I have been unemployed for a rather extended period of time and it's not the first time in the last 25 years. I worked for an organisation that is not required to pay unemployment taxes, not that I would have filed anyway and the benefits would have expired long ago. So my contribution to our lives dissipated long ago.



Add to that pay cuts for my Dearest One, and increased medical expenses, and you have the makings of a man who feels far less than adequate.



Then there's the real topper we lost our home! Granted it was just an apartment but it was ours and HOME. We have now been reduced to living in someone else's home without any of our things and apparently there are those who believe we did this by choice and like this arrangement. It seems to me anyone who knows me, even vaguely, would know I wouldn't choose to live amongst someone else's disconnected junque over my own mass of dust collectors and junque.


Don't get me wrong I'm grateful, I just wish we didn't have to live with someone else. Especially someone whose views on life, faith, and what makes a good home vary so greatly from my own.



So as I get a little testy when things are not put back where they belong, or someone fails to clean up after themselves or to do something the way I believe is common sense, I am reminded how futile I am and that I have no say in this house. I need to learn to not care because It's none of my business. While I think I'm doing things to better the lives of those living here, I'm really just aggravating them and, at times, frightening them.



In a society where the man is supposed to be the bread winner and supposed to be the support system and pillar of the household, how does an unemployed, worthless being, only good at being a housewife, find any self worth? Especially when he's already thought of as less than a man, by much of society, for being gay. Yes I know that whole mentality is sexist but it's the indoctrination of my generation.



I am at a loss. I wish I didn't have to rely on anyone else. I wish I could just leave and let them go on without me. Honestly, I wish I didn't exist. I have really never been anything in this life but a burden. There are those who might argue but they're too vested to see the truth.

I try daily to improve myself, to avoid the depression and mania that are so much a part of me, but I too often fail. I try to be positive to look at all the good in life but I'll be honest, other than my Dearest One, I don't see any positives in my life. It has continued to go from bad to worse and I don't see any hope of it getting better. I'm not a 'glass half full' or 'glass half empty' kind of guy. I'm a 'the glass is broken and no-one is going to pick up the pieces' kind of guy.



So, yes I feel worthless and no there isn't anything that can be said or done to change that. I know there are those who love me despite the worthless monster I think I am, but that doesn't change my core.

Perhaps tomorrow will be different. Maybe I'll find a ray of hope. But for today I'm wallowing in my low self-esteem and complete lack of hope.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Just a sexual identity or something more?

Sexual orientation? Sexual identity? Nature or nurture?

It has long been argued that if you want proof that being gay is genetic you need only look to my Mother's side of the family. Through multiple generations there is evidence that would lead one to conclude that there is some genetic code at play.

But is being gay merely about sex? And if it goes beyond a sexual identity then how can refraining from sexual activity with the same sex make you any less gay?

I have for years implied that there is more to being gay than sex because if not I'm not gay. I have been celibate nearly my entire adult life. Initially out of sheer terror. I came of age at the height of the AIDS scare and the idea of engaging in the behaviors they were claiming to be the greatest dangers for contracting the illness truly terrified me.

Later my abstinence was more about low self-esteem and poor body image but whatever the reason I've been gay in name only if sex is the qualifier.

I submit that I am still very much a gay man. I don't think a straight man could ever appreciate the male form as I do. There are also so many other things that, in my mind, make me gay.

One of my favorite YouTube channels is hosting the topic this week of "What Would You be Like if You Were Straight?" several in answering have alluded to the idea that there are characteristics in themselves as gays that they feel pretty strongly would not exist had they been straight. A love for dance in high school rather than contact sports. A fondness for fashion or certain hair colours. Drama, the friends they have or had in school, so many factors. One even noted that he was the only male in his family, for generations, to graduate high school and not have a child before 18.

I am gay! I know this. I know nothing can change the fact, no matter how hard I may try or how much someone else may wish it to be different. I know I didn't choose this anomaly of life.

I think perhaps I would be less creative if I were straight. I'm fairly certain I would be less compassionate if I were straight. Some days I even believe I'd be happier if I were straight. Yet I also know I would have less psychological strength and less moral fiber if I were straight. Being gay and knowing it at an early age teaches you, or forces you into, a certain strength of character.

No being gay is not merely a sexual identity. It is a multitude of wonderful characteristics and attributes all wrapped up in a myriad of different shells. We're not all flamboyant. We're not all artistic. We're not all neat freaks. No one image can describe us. Yet we are all wonderful individuals who make great friends, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers or fathers, and lovers.

The LGBT community is just as diverse as the straight community and the one thing we all have in common is we're only human trying to do the best that we can in the time we're allotted on this planet.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Security and other illusions

I have a friend who writes a blog with a vast following and nothing seems off limits. The most personal and embarrassing of things are shared. At times I find myself cringing at the idea of being so transparent but these stories of personal horror are always well received and often leave others sharing similar tales in the comments section.

This leaves me to query regarding our attempt at hiding those things we find most unsavory, unflattering, or downright embarrassing in our lives. Is there really anything we've experienced that hasn't been experienced by another?


I'm working my way well into my forties and still suck my thumb. It's embarrassing at this age, or really any age beyond 2, to still indulge in this habit. My Mother tried everything to get me to stop as a child and I have tried countless methods as an adult. So there was a certain horror involved when on a recent visit to my Mother's she shared that her friend's son, a year older than I, also sucks his thumb. The horror? That our Mothers were discussing the fact.

There was a brief time frame where I didn't suck my thumb. A few short months in which I thought I was in love and was sexually active. Does this mean sucking my thumb really is an oral fixation? Is it actually a substitute for the security of a loving, and fulfilling, relationship?

My Mother has told me I didn't start sucking my thumb until I was about 2, this would time it to about the time the sperm-donor (biological father) left. Could that abandonment have triggered the habit.


I know many with their little security thing, be it a blankie, a teddy bear, or some other object that others wouldn't necessarily see as a form of security. I have a piece of fabric which goes along with my thumb sucking, yet I don't carry it EVERYWHERE. However, at times, no matter how public, my thumb will find its way into my mouth. This is most often subconscious brought about because I'm particularly tired or in a very uncomfortable situation. Any situation involving large numbers of people or, worse yet, my having to be social.

My baby, read dog, has his own security devices and you know it's time for bed when he trots out into the living room carrying his stuffed bone. I may be biased, but it's adorable, a forty-something sucking his thumb IS NOT adorable!

The only positive to my thumb sucking is apparently if I don't I grind my teeth. I'd like to quit but as I said I've tried. I guess there are worse things I could be doing but I'm not sure about more embarrassing.


There are other things I have long held as a certain part of my security, most of them are gone now, at least figuratively. I know there is security in my friends and family without them I would be lost and yet I still suck my thumb. I'm sure a therapist would have a field day but it isn't hurting anyone it's just embarrassing so until I find a way to stop...



"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature,nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing."~Helen Keller

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

My Favorite Hymn...

I love this time of year, it's not yet so hot that I fear the outdoors and things are beginning to really come to life. Our Japanese Magnolia has been in full bloom and is now sprouting a full head of leaves.

The bougainvillea has an abundance of beautiful, showy blooms. And our first Calla Lilies have bloomed.



It's time to feel the rich, cool, soil between my fingers and begin to coax some life from the land. Yes this includes the backbreaking and thankless task of HEAVY weeding, but it's such a pleasure to play in the garden.

This year my intention is to do far more than previous years. More veggies, more flowers, and hopefully even a new fruit tree or two.


There is no way I can do this without thinking of my grandmother, she always had what, as a child, seemed like a huge garden. She tended it with great love and always seemed so happy amongst the furrows and was very adept at using the fruits, and vegetables, of her labours.


This time of year, and playing in the garden, can't help but make me sing what has always been my favorite hymn. A song that for years after my grandmother's death I couldn't even think of without tears for it was used in her memorial. Yet even after years of being away from church and trying to distance myself from all of christendom I still frequently find myself singing and with great relish...

I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.
Refrain

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice,
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.

Refrain

I’d stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

Refrain


Words: Charles Austin Miles (1912)


So today, with the help of my nephew, I enter The Garden, to endure hard labour and to reminisce of my dear grandmother whom I still love and miss every day.


"One is nearer G-d's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth."
~ Dorothy Frances Gurney

Monday, March 5, 2012

I'm no Mary Poppins (practicly perfect in every way)

I've just finished reading an article about why you may still be unmarried. The things I read when bored.

This article was full of suggestions, to young ladies, to improve their being marriageable. These were not appearance, or personality changes, but life changes that would send out subliminal messages via your daily activities and mentality that you are indeed marriage material.

I can't discount the article at all in fact I see most of the ideas set forth as viable for every one looking for love or just trying to get through life.

One in particular got my attention, especially as a self-professed perfectionist who wishes the little things didn't so aggravate him and that he could just let it go. "Practice imperfection." The author goes on to say 'don't even attempt to be perfect. Choose some areas in which to just be adequate.'

Her suggestions for things in which to strive for adequate were along the lines of gift wrapping, and thank you notes, but she has a point. As one who is, all too frequently, guilty of expecting perfection from not only myself but others, life would be so much more pleasant if we could just let a few things go now and then.


This, however, is easier said than done. I have been preaching this to myself for years. I try not to be as hard on others as I am on myself but at times I know I fail.

I have always felt that being a perfectionist or control freak hides some deeper issue. We're obsessive about the minutiae because somewhere in our lives we feel we have some large issue over which we have no control.

My deepest perceived issue is undoubtedly that I'm gay. I have spent years fighting or hiding the fact. While I like to think that most days I now accept myself for who I am, there is always still this gnawing at the back of my mind concerning my being wrong. I KNOW I didn't choose to be gay, yet I was raised in a Christian atmosphere. That being said, it can really mess with your head.


I knew fairly young that I was gay. I also knew that my mother would be accepting and supportive when and if I ever came out. I was right. Yet I have long said that had she not married her last husband I would probably have a healthier self image. He and his family were(are) the ultimate in right wing, fundamentalist, hate mongering. I know that's a terrible thing to say but my Dad was what most frightened me about coming out, and while I love him dearly being in his presence still makes me very uncomfortable because I have never felt as though he can love and accept me with this 'flaw.'

So I strive for perfection in EVERYTHING else. Perhaps in an attempt to please my dad. Perhaps in an effort to cover my 'sin.' I really don't think there's any way I'll ever please my dad and I don't see how being who you were born as can be a 'sin.' I know I was 'Born this way,' I just can't help internalising the fact that so much of the world either believes I wasn't or wishes I hadn't been.

I will therefore continue to strive for 'adequate,' to allow others to live their best while also expecting a little less from myself. Yet I can't help thinking I never want it said of me that he has the 'good enough for government work' mentality. I want, always, to strive for better but I need not always strive for perfect as I know I will never attain perfection.


"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realise they were the big things."                                                                                                                          ~Robert Braut

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Everyone loves...

Alright I'll admit there are many little things in life which drive me crazy. Some say I have OCD as I can't stand the smallest thing out of place, never mind the little idiosyncrasies like counting the number of times I stir my beverage when adding sweetener. Many have noticed my grammatical pet peeves. There are many 'pet peeves' which clog up my daily life and can admittedly oft times impact my tenuous grasp on sanity.

Let's begin, for illustrative purpose, with grammar horrors. I don't actually expect every individual to consistently use proper grammar. No one is perfect but there are little things which we all learn early on that I think should stick. Examples include the differences between to, too, and two, our and are, or there, their, and they're, or even, though rare, seen and saw. One I have only recently become aware of, many don't seem to know there's a difference between then and than.

Admittedly, these are errors you will only find when one is writing. It would seem I become particularly incensed when the error is spoken in radio or television. Enough so that someone who I never really thought paid much attention once asked if I had seen my 'favorite' Easter commercial that season.

For years Cadbury ran a commercial at the end of which they used the tag line "nobody knows Easter better than him." Really? How many people had the opportunity to correct that copy before the commercial was made? Does no one proof read these things? How many years did they have to correct the error before they quit using that commercial all together? This type of mistake seems rampant in advertising, and journalism.

It seems to me by the time you've reached a stage that you're writing ad copy, or a journalism piece, you should have had more opportunity to learn the intricacies of the language and by example should be encouraging young people to use those skills themselves. If they constantly hear misuse from every media outlet why should they try themselves to speak or write properly?

But I digress, the issue that set me to writing today is the blatant overuse and misuse of the phrase 'everyone loves,' or 'everybody loves,' alternately, 'who doesn't love.'
While I understand the user feels strongly about whatever it is they're touting I can generally find at least one who would disagree. I do not love burgers, ice cream, chocolate, or pizza, nor have I ever even so much as liked Raymond, in fact the few times I saw the show I thought it was horrible and Raymond was probably the biggest reason.

The problem with speaking in generalities is much like the problem with stereotypes, while there may be a reason in the minds of some for their use, they are all too frequently inaccurate.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Things which bring me happiness...

My Dearest One and I have been together for over 23 tumultuous, but wonderful, years. While ours is anything but a traditional relationship in many ways we are everything that a happily married couple could be. She is so much more than a BFF, she is friend, mentor, confidante, true love, and soul mate, so she is my Dearest One.

As we continue on this blog journey you may find our relationship incongruent with who you perceive me being but I assure you there is NOTHING more in keeping with the real me. She will always come first in any life decision I make be it love, friends, housing, or just what to have for dinner. She has come to be my first thought, my very reason for living.

She makes me happy! She makes me complete! And today she celebrates her birthday, we celebrate together...this makes me happy.

Friends and family make me happy in general. I consider myself truly blessed to be able to name only a few true, close, friends but to know that each of them are TRUE friends. They have endured much over the years, and most have been friends for YEARS, yet nothing strains our beautiful relationship. I thank each of you.

Music, art, beauty, education, and diversity make me happy. To that end today we're off for some artistic education and diversity that will also, undoubtedly, hold a certain beauty. I love museums and today we are off to see the terra cotta warriors, something we have long wanted to experience.

This is just a short list of a few of the things which can bring me true joy. I am looking forward to a day with friends, art, and learning. To do it while also celebrating my Dearest One's birthday fills me with immense joy.

Happy Birthday!

Friday, March 2, 2012

Dr. Jekyll and I refuse to hide. ( a series of digressions on internal machinations)

I'll admit, my personality has it's extremes. Unfortunately they can, at times, be seen in rather short succession. I'm not proud of this fact it is what it is, a chemical imbalance that has left me trying to prevent others from seeing the monster I am capable of being.

There are some triggers I can, and try to, control. There are others with which I have a bit more difficulty. There are chemicals offered that can 'balance' my insanity. For reasons I'll not go into at this time, I generally avoid those options.

So I gained a great deal of weight, shut myself off from the world, and delved into a greater depression than I had ever before experienced.

I have, more than once, been accused of agoraphobia and I've really never been much in social circles, without much 'psyching up.' Yet this was something greater, deeper, darker. I no longer derived pleasure from ANYTHING. I even allowed the house to go untended and began to just stack things on the dining table rather than obsessively putting them away as is my 'norm.' What was this? Who was this?


That was several years ago. I've lost a fair bit of the weight. I, rather freely, join in social activities upon occasion. I'm a much healthier, happier me. Or so I thought.

A great deal has changed in my world over the last couple of years, as is true in the lives of many, with the downturn in the economy and medical issues for my Dearest One. I have felt compelled, under the circumstances, to once again pretend to be someone I'm not.

I spent a great many years trying to please everyone else and keep them from knowing my darkest secrets. I was so happy to give up those masks. While I felt I lost some dear friends along the way, and hurt some others who certainly deserved better, I was free. (Perhaps someday I'll go into what I feel I lost when I finally came out. In some ways I guess this constitutes coming out again, to the Blogosphere.)

Now I'm back to people pleasing and hiding...

I had a 'tried and true' escape from it all. When I knew I was reaching my breaking point I would escape... into beads.

Suddenly, the other day, it dawned on me that I haven't done any SERIOUS beadwork in over a year. Nothing major in 2 years.

So my conclusion? I'm going to spend more time doing what I love, beading, and less time hiding who I am  from myself and others.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Beginning...

I've long contemplated the idea of a blog. A place to air my meanderings, perhaps completely anonymously. So here it begins. Yes, it begins anonymously...for now.

This is both an experiment and a construction site.

An experiment because I've set out to begin writing on a more regular basis. Primarily because it's cathartic but also because I have been encouraged of late by some dear friends to reacquaint myself with what was, at one time, a precious resource for 'letting off steam.'

There was a day when writing was the only place I could release, and examine, my true self. Writing was an escape. Not necessarily from reality but from the 'demons' my self deprecation would allow to roam my brain.

I am a, self-professed, hopeless romantic. Not only when it comes to things of the heart, but of life in general and the world in which we live. I envision a place where equal rights are no longer a question in ANYONE's life but are indeed rights with no queries or provisos. Yet on a smaller scale I still dream of one day being swept off my feet.

I hope to explore many aspects of my life here. Not just the heavy topics or the 'political.' (I have found of late I'm far more political than I ever imagined) Art, music, interests beyond my 'therapy.' In hopes that not only I, but you the reader, can leave here refreshed and renewed, and maybe a little better educated, about ourselves and those around us. Ready to go on with our days with a positive image of life and where we're going to take it!

A construction site because I'm new at this from both the sharing aspect as well as the idea of setting up such a venture. I still have a lot of kinks to work out. At this point, especially with the page layout and visibility.

So join me on this venture, if you dare.


Incidentally, Kana Sofer is a transliteration of the Hebrew for humble scribe.

I remain your,
Kana Sofer