a man and amen

I was just re-reading a blog post I made two Decembers ago. I'm going to repost it here and add in my current thoughts:


Dear Heavenly Parents,


Thank you for sending me the man of my dreams. I loved him when I first saw him and I still love him today more than a decade later. This summer it will be 12 years, wow! Sometimes I feel frustrated that he doesn't love me the way I love him, but in my saner moments I realize there is wisdom in pairing me, a bisexual man who is a married father, with another married father who is straight. He is also kind and his kindness shines through in so many ways the longer I know him.

Yes, I sometimes wonder what our lives would be like if both of our wives died or divorced us, but I strongly suspect that my man would soon find himself dating women and would soon find himself in love with one and remarried. The same could happen with me I suppose, although maybe you've got another man of my dreams in store for me somewhere in the future and maybe this one is gay, or at least bisexual. As time passes though, I think I've become more realistic. It is a blessing to be married, and it is a blessing to have a such a good married friend. When he says, "I'd like to do that, but I can't this time because I promised my wife I'd..." we both understand we have other priorities, which also makes the time we are together memorable. 

But maybe this is as good as it gets and if that's the case, that's OK. Not just OK but great, really. I waited more than 40 years for you to place this jewel along my path and I realize that this may be it. Thank you for our many days and years together. He is so much more than an amethyst remembrance. He is real. He is alive. I stood by his side and enjoyed his laughter this very day and the day I'm writing the addendum as well. You've also given me the opportunity to be married to a wonderful woman and for us to be parents of wonderful children. She is alive. She is real. She is only a few yards away, resting her mind and her bones after a busy Monday at work. She's been out of town for a few days as I add these thoughts and I'm so glad to be with her again, so glad she's returned safely to our home. She is my friend, confidant, wife, mother of our children. I would not be the man I am, if she were not in my life. I love her as much as a man in my situation could love his wife and I know she loves me to the best of her ability given our circumstances.

You've blessed me so abundantly with the ability to love both men and women, to find some of my brothers and sisters here intriguing, mysterious and beautiful. You've blessed me with so much more, with wonderful teachers, neighbors, friends and extended family. I'm also grateful for the ability to find beauty in small things, like a smile, a "thank you", a "please", a Facebook "like", and the comments on this blog. 

You've blessed me with good health, with strength, with the ability to endure uncertainty. You've blessed me with a love of music, nature, art, food, sunshine and snow, darkness and light, fireworks, fireflies and fire itself. You blessed me to be able to notice and appreciate nature and human nature, the cold and the warmth, the extremes of summer and winter and the perfect days of transition in spring and fall. 

I've had a good life full of challenges and rewards. Certainly there is more good ahead, but sometimes on a cold winter night like tonight, I'd be just fine if I didn't wake up. Isn't that crazy? I know it is. It's irrational but understandable. I think I've grown a little more patient with myself since I wrote this. A little more tolerant of my changing moods. A little more aware that if I'm discouraged, encouragement is just around the corner, and vice versa. 
I have more to do. Children to be married. Grandchildren to be spoiled, to read with, to laugh with, to sing with, to color with, two swing with, to put on my shoulders, to run through the sprinklers in the summer, and zip into a winter coat when it's snowing, to lift in and out of high chairs, to buckle into a car seat and kiss on the forehead. To realize how much capacity I have to love and how I must have been loved as child and grandchild. I have a tender, strong, dear, intelligent, kind, loving, independent, talented, giving, patient wife to grow old with. 

And a married friend who I miss when I haven't seen him for three days. Someone who makes me smile just by thinking about him. Someone I probably stand too close to sometimes. Someone I bump into when we're walking together and when our hands touch just for a fraction of second, I know and wonder if he does too. Someone who is married to a woman he loves. But someone who enjoys his brothers, his buddies, his independence. Someone who is so comfortable in his own skin, that when I'm with him I'm somehow comfortable in mine. All just as true now as it was when I first wrote it. 

Why should I need someone else to feel this way? Because I'm human. We are social animals. Or as Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote (and Neal Maxwell quoted) "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience but spiritual beings having a human experience." I shouldn't. And I don't always. But when I'm with my man, this magic just happens. It's as natural as sunshine. The magic remains as does the warmth. It's human, it's spiritual, it's almost as tangible as a warm shower or a favorite sweat shirt just out of the dryer, and I know I'm alive when I feel it.

I'm glad that somehow we crossed paths (probably part of some great plan you two cooked up, eh?) and that our friendship has endured. I'm glad I came across that great quote from Albert Camus, "In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer." I'm glad I still know that, and that I know it even more deeply now. Thank you for all these blessings and others I can't even imagine. 

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. 

Tiger in the Tank

This happened a few weeks ago. I was nearly out of gas, so on my way to do some Saturday errands, I pulled into one of my local gas stations. Immediately this young man caught my eye. Not this photo is not of him. He was maybe about the same age, but much easier on the eyes. Much more relaxed. I fellow who seemed to be calm and happy enough that he might even have been humming to himself.

I swiped my credit card, and took a glance. I started filling up my tank and caught a glance. I began washing my windows and caught so more glances. He was in his early twenties. Had a ring on his ring finger, just like I do. Looked like maybe he was filling up his wife's car. It looked a little too soft for him. Strangely, he seemed to be in no more of a hurry that I was. I kept glancing and he kept washing his windows.

Finally after I'd washed all my windows, I just walked over and started a conversation with him. That's when I saw his eye up close. Big blue eyes. Nice smile. Three or four days of beard. Started talking about the weather, then asked if he was a student. Score! Not only a student, but a student at my alma mater. So we talked about his major, his graduate school plans, his wife. Nice five minute talk about a variety of topics. When it felt like we'd reached an end, I said, "Well, nice to talk with you. Have a good one."

To which he replied, "Thanks" and as I walked away he said, "Can I get you name?" I will repeat that for emphasis. He says to me, "Can I get your name?" I'm sure I had a big smile on my face as I turned around and told him my name and asked his. Oh my gosh, I not only met him, talked with him, enjoyed the easy conversation, but he asked me for my name. I gave it to him. I asked for his. Yes, now have found him on Facebook. More pictures. Same handsome man with the big smile, the blue eyes and the few days of whiskers.

Later that day my wife asked me how the morning had good. Great, I told her. "Got a tank full of gas in the car. I was running on empty. That made me feel a lot better about things." What I didn't tell her was, "Yeah and while I was at the gas station there was this handsome young married fellow and I just couldn't take my eyes off him. So I walked over and stuck up a conversation with him. He's a student of blah blab and he's maybe going to go for a masters in blah blah. I know his name, so maybe I'll find him on Facebook and we'll go to lunch sometime.

OK, Moho friends, tell me what you think of my actions, thoughts, and limited disclosure to my wife.

Blessings of Brotherhood

A couple of weeks ago I had a wonderful experience that I wanted to share with you. I was buying some stuff at a store and noticed that the cashier who was about to ring up my purchases looked like a friend of mine, which gave me warm feelings toward him even though we'd never met. But I decided to treat him as a friend and not a stranger. Our eyes locked as I walked up to the counter and said "How are you?" as if we were old friends.

We both smiled. His facial expression matched my hopes. He looked back into my eyes as if we did know each other.  Debit or credit, he asked. I said debit and, as if I had seen him in a variety of different shirts and ties over the years, I said, "You know that shirt and tie really look great on you. You ought to wear that combination more often." Our eyes again locked and he said, "Well thanks, bud, I will." He handed me my stuff and I said "Have a good one" and he said "You, too." It was probably over in less than a minute, but it was one of those sweet moments I hope I'll always remember.

Today when I saw the real friend that this guy reminded me of, I wanted to give him a big hug and say, "I love you so much." But he doesn't like hugs and I don't usually tell straight guys I love them, so we just talked about our weekends.

Later today I saw another friend. This time he was the one who kept making eye contact. As we talked I noticed his white teeth, his full lips, his neatly trimmed beard, the way his shirt hung on his shoulders, and then right in the middle of the conversation a kind of miracle happened. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.  I've always felt affection toward this man--another happily married fellow--but today he was the one who physically touched me. What a blessing.

I'm curious about the experiences you, my moho friends, have with your straight friends. Do you also restrain yourself? Do you also find that sometimes a friend's touch is like a gift from God himself?

A great time to come out?

It's a great time to come out, right? After all, church members are being urged like never before to be kind and loving to gays and lesbians. How can my fellow brothers and sisters know that I need their love and support as I deal with SGA while sustaining my MOM relationship--oops--if I'm going to come out, I guess I'll also have to try to stop talking in code. I'll have to say I'm dealing with same gender attraction while sustaining my mixed-orientation marriage, but even then, I'll probably get unknowing stares as people ask themselves "What on earth is he talking about? Is this more of this gay lingo? It used to be out in the world, not it's right here in our neighborhood."

What will coming out do to my affectionate relationships with the guys in my High Priests Group? I like the idea that they're talking with me and even occasionally putting a hand on my shoulder or squeezing my knee just because we're brothers and we feel comfortable touching each other. Would I want them to touch me and talk with me to show me increased love and acceptance because I'm struggling with this "terrible burden of being gay" and Mormon? Hmmm, maybe not so much.

How would I feel if I knew that in Ward Council the Relief Society president was saying, "We've got to reach out to Ned and his wife, especially his wife. Think of what she's be going through all those years being married to a gay man, uh, a SSA man, oh no, SGA, that's what we call it right? We need to be sure she gets visiting taught every month, and what are you High Priests going to do with Ned?"

To which the HP group leader confesses, "Well, I'm sorry to say this but some of our older High Priests feel that Ned's really betrayed them. He's always been so kind and sometimes openly affectionate, but now they think he's been coming on to them all these years. When we thought of Ned as straight, of course we accepted him as one of the group, but now that we know that he's turned gay, uh, or he now thinks that he's SSA or SGA, whatever you want to call it, these guys feel like he's been lying to them about who he really is. They don't trust him. To be honest, I don't think we can keep him as an instructor."

To which the Bishop says, "Well maybe we could lovingly call him to coordinate the Saturday morning cleaning of the building. No, that's not going to work, people aren't going to want to be alone in the church with him. We can put him on the prayer rolls of the Temple and we'll pray about calling another instructor so we can release him. He's a great teacher, but this whole gay thing is really making people uncomfortable. If only Ned had kept this to himself, we wouldn't have to be dealing with all this contention."

What do you think? Am I being too cynical? Or am I just facing the reality that older members of the church, and those who have become leaders because of their orthodox views, aren't really going to be on board with really loving and accepting gays and lesbians?

A Tale of Three Friendships

Actually two of them aren't friendships, but each has blessed my life in certain ways, in fact I don't know if #3 would have been possible without #1 and #2 to give me perspective. I wrote these three in response to David over at In the Dark and Dreary Wilderness. Thanks, David, for prompting me to think and write.

1. To my old friend who recently surprised me:

Dear _______, Can you believe that after all these years I finally found you again? When I friended you on Facebook, I didn't really expect you to friend me back. After all it's been more than a decade since we've talked. I eventually got the message that you weren't interested. It took me a long time not to think of you daily, but eventually I slowly let go, and you made it easy because you never followed up. When I was able to become more objective about our one-sided friendship, I realized I was the one who was interested in you and at first you were polite, but eventually your lack of doing anything to reach out to me helped me understand that I was wasting my time. But then you friended me back on Facebook. Wow, I've got to tell you that made my day, but I'm really glad we now live hours away from each other. I've gotten in the habit of not thinking about you, but when I saw David's post, it reminded me of you. Thanks for friending me, wow I got one, two maybe three mouse clicks from you. ;D I realize now that it is as close as I will ever get to any kind of a authentic friendship with you, and after all these years, I'm OK with that. (Moral of the story: Probably not such a good idea to friend certain old friends on Facebook?)

2. To someone who didn't become a friend, but I could have handled it better.

Dear __________, I hope you are doing well and sometimes I feel guilty that I didn't follow up with you when you made it so obvious that you wanted some kind of relationship with me. I should have just told you, sorry I'm not interested. But I took the easy way out, the wrong way out, I just basically ignored you until you went away. I wish I had been able to handle that better. I wish I could have said, "You've called several time and I always make some excuse, but the truth is, I'm not interested in a friendship. It's really nothing personal at all, just one of those cases where there isn't a good match." But I didn't say that. I wasn't very mature, but you weren't very perceptive when you just kept calling and I just kept saying no. Oh well, maybe we both have learned something. (Moral of the story: Candor is possible, at least in retrospect?)

3. To my true friends:

Dear __________, So many times you've brightened my day with a message or a phone call or a visit. I'm so glad that we've built a solid friendship that has weathered the years. I'm glad that our friendship isn't a one-way deal. I reach out to you, you reach out to me. Sometimes we have to say no but most of the time we find a way to say yes. Thanks for being there through thick and thin, through years of summers, winters, falls and springs. I had to wait a long time to cross paths with such a good match, such a good friend, but it was worth the wait. I'm smiling as I write this because it seems to me that the best part of our friendship is yet to come. I could be wrong, of course, but I don't think so. (Moral of the story: Storms eventually give way to clear skies?)

What do you think?

First Kiss

Actually I should title this "First Kisses" because there are several memorable first kisses as I look back on a long and mostly happy life.

1. My first teenage kiss with a girl.
2. The first time my wife-to-be and I kissed.
3. The first time a gay man kissed me.
4. The first time I really wanted to taste the kiss of another man.
5. Other kisses and expressions of affection.

So jumping toward the end of the list, let's focus on #4, the first time I really wanted to taste the kiss of another man.

It was on a mountainside. A straight friend and I were jogging. We both stopped to catch our breath and because we were both breathing heavily and standing close to each other and trying to talk while gasping for air, I inadvertantly captured one of his large exhalations in one of my deep inhalations. It was warm and wonderful. There was no hint of anything artificial. No trace of mouthwash or toothpaste, but nothing unappealing either. That breathing in of his breath was neither sweet nor offensive in any way, but I loved it. It was just his breath: warm, pure and affirming. But it had the power to forever freeze that moment in time. I wanted more of that taste, and I suppose a kiss would have been a natural next step for me if he had not been a straight man. It was probably as close to a kiss as I will ever enjoy with him. And you know what? That's OK. As his friend and as a married man that's as it should be.

And what about #5? These are stories of kisses and hugs between friends and family that are to be savored and held sacred.

One Hand One Heart

(photo from Beck's blog)

Make of our hands one hand,
Make of our hearts one heart,
Make of our vows one last vow:
Only death will part us now.

Make of our lives one life,
Day after day, one life.
Now it begins, now we start
One hand, one heart;
Even death won't part us now.

Interesting, isn't it how Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein captured the essence of both mortal and eternal marriages in this classic from West Side Story. It's a beautiful, emotional song and yet I wonder, based on my own experience, how many MOMs (Mixed Orientation Marriages) achieve this ideal.

My dear wife and I are of one heart on many issues, particularly concerning our children and our pride in the way they treat others and their varied accomplishments. However our lives are not one, but multiple lives. We have different views so many things, different approaches, varying tastes, divergent opinions. Most of the hours of our days are not spent together but apart. Even much of our leisure time is spent in proximity to one another, but not in close physical or emotional contact.

Much of this is healthy. I agree with Kahlil Gibran: "...let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls." Nonetheless I am bound. I have chosen to be. I am bound by commitments and covenants, days which have stretched into years, months which have morphed into decades.

The spaces in our togetherness allow for friendships. Married women usually have their intimate girl friends. They may greet with hugs and kisses. Their supportive touching may include handholding. Some married men have their trusted business associates, their fishing buddies*, their racketball partners, those whose company they enjoy as they train together for a marathon or serve together in the neighborhood, church and community. While these relationships vary in the level of their intimacy, they tend to be platonic--even so the men may testify of the love for each other and kid each other about their bromance.

The dynamics are more complicated when one of the two buddies is gay or bisexual, but there remains a safety net. In a MOM male friendship, the straight man's orientation provides a natural barrier to convenant-breaking. The friends may be physically and emotionally close in many ways. They may share doubts, concerns and joys. They make greet and depart with the embrace of whiskered bear hugs. They may inhale each other's unique scent of sweat not entirely overpowered by deodorant. Hundreds even thousands of times over a long term freindship they may dress and undress together. They may stand naked, talking, laughing, shaving in the all-male bastion of the locker room and its showers. Sexual contact does not occur. It is not desired by one or even both of the men.

But when the males in a friendship are married men who are both SGA or SSA or bi-sexual or gay, and when the friendship includes playful, brotherly touch and mutual desire for more, what barriers protect that friendship from escalating into convenant-breaking? Is the covenant the safety net? What can they do to create appropriate spaces in their togetherness? How can their relationship help rather than hinder the vows they have made to their wives, the commitments they have made to their children, the chaste friendship they wish to sustain?

*usually, not, I presume of the Brokeback Mountain genre. ;)