It Ain't Either/Or

I sometimes feel like I just blend into the crowd, not that I'm totally invisible but just not easy to be seen. I sometimes feel that while I am liked, I'm not quite loved. But if it is either/or world, it's much better to love than to be loved.

But then I rebel against these thoughts. I tell myself there's only one of me, just like there's only one of you. We are both to celebrate and be celebrated. 

I tell myself that if I feel invisible, maybe I ought to question those feelings rather than my ability to be seen.  I tell myself that it's not an either/or world and that I am both loved and one who loves. Throughout my life. Since birth. Right now. Today and tomorrow. Just like the sun comes up. It's there. You just gotta see it.

And sometimes this kind of thinking leads me to write stuff like this: You can improve. You can move forward. You are improving. You are moving forward. You can seek and find. You can be sought and found. Who you are, what you do, what you say, who you love--it all matters. Don't worry about keeping score. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy the journey. 

"Sometimes in my tears I drown but I never let it get me down."

-Matisyahu

Some Saturday Wishes for You

May you seek and find accomplishment, beauty and creativity this day. May that quest yield delight and enthusiasm. May you move and think freely and gratefully and with health and healing in your mind and heart. May your intuition and sense of fair play and justice kindle increased love of yourself and others. May movement and music nurture your moments and your opportunities. May you find renewed purpose in your quest and your questions. May you savor the creation that is a part of recreation. May you feel blessed as you see your talents unfold. May all of this revitalize your sense of wonder and excitement and may your yearnings fill your soul with zip and zeal.

A Fresh Letter to "The One"

Hi RIDK (Reader I Don't Know),

I haven't written for more than a year, but I do care. After all I still imagine, I still want to believe that you're the one I'm going to run into some day and we're both going to be astonished that after years of a few fine friendships and yearning, we've both finally found someone, perhaps the one and only one, who is willing to reciprocate, to give and take, to find and be found, to be loved and to love.

Where and when do you think this meeting will occur? Tomorrow at the grocery store? Next week when we both get on the bus? Next month on one of those perfect April days? Later in Spring when it's even warmer?

Perhaps in the dog days of summer when we're both hot and tired and hungry, but then rather miraculously there will be a sense of calm and relaxation and a hunger that's been there for years will morph into a giddy sense of expectation.

Maybe it will be even later in the year when we're hiking and enjoying the blazing colors of fall. Perhaps then we'll both be cold only to discover a welcome warmth. That might also happen in winter. We'll be in the snow, but there will also be an undeniable glow.

More likely it won't happen this year or next year or even the year after. But then, when we've both given up all hope, our meeting will be that much more unexpected and unforgettable.

And what if there is no meeting at all? What if you and I never meet? What if I reach the end of my life and the myth that is you never materializes? Will that still be OK? I hope so, because that my friend may be the most likely scenario.

Or maybe we'll be in the last moments of our mortal lives and like Steve Jobs saying "Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow" or Brigham Young saying "Joseph" the last word on your lips will be "Ned" and the last word on my lips will be "Ridk"?  No, no, no that's just your placeholder name.

You'll be Abe or Adam, Ben or Bart, Christian or Caleb, Dan or David, Elli or Ethan, Frank or Fred, Gabe or Glen, Harry or Henry, Ike or Ian, John or Jake, Keith or Kyle, Marlon or Mike, Nate or what if we were both named Ned?, Otis or Ozzie, Peter or Patrick, Quinn or Quentin, Robert or Richard, Seth or Stephen, Tim or Trevor, Urban or Uri, Vincent or Vlad, Wes or Woody, Xan or Xorn, Yogi or York, Zach or Zeke.

The truth is your name won't matter. Neither will the color of your eyes or hair, your height or weight. Or the sound of your voice or how much hair you have. I won't care if it's curly or straight or non-existent.

Because in that moment, whether it is real or imagined, you'll be the one for me and I'll be the one for you. That's when the ancient and the infinite will somehow join the dawn and the dusk, the heat and the cold, the sweat and the tears, the savory and the sweet and we'll both take a deep breath and awake to the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.

If Abe Lincoln stood beside us

When our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation conceived in liberty what, if any, were their concerns about the variety of people that citizens of such a nation might choose to love?

We are now engaged in an epic debate testing whether this nation will strive and succeed in providing equal protection under the law to all of its citizens.

What can we learn from the brave men and women, living and dead, who have struggled toward this ideal? How can we now dedicate ourselves to the unfinished work which they thus far have so nobly advanced?

The Beauty of October

Cold but not too cold. Colorful. A time of transition. Fewer thoughts about lawn mowing. More thoughts about snow shoveling. And of course the nearly constant desire to hold and be held, to love and be loved.

He Will Yet Reveal

Is the main purpose of The Family: A Proclamation to the World to define marriage as between a man and a woman? Why would the church knowingly exclude tens of thousands of good men and women who fall outside that ideal? If only 1% of LDS church members are gay, that's still 144,413 gay Mormons based on the church's 2011 stats.  That would fill to overflowing two facilities the size of LaVell Edwards Stadium.

Yes, the proclamation supports strong families, but not just one kind of strong family. Yes, it says "marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God..." but it does not say that other unions are invalid. 

For example we've been taught that some marriages between one man and multiple women are also viable on the other side of the veil. The proclamation does not appear to invalidate polygamous marriages made prior to 1890 or the present-day serial polygamist who is sealed to one wife, and then upon her death is sealed to a second, resulting an eternal polygamist marriage.

The Proclamation on the Family speaks of many ideals. Yes, it certainly is ideal for straight men and women to marry and rear children. No argument there. But it clearly and directly acknowledges that this ideal is not always attained because of a variety of reasons:

"Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation."

This sentence, which is 510 words into the 605 word document, doesn't say that other circumstances may cause problems but there's nothing that can be done. It says other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. That powerful, inclusive sentence can be seen as a loving acknowlegement that the ideals set forth in the proclamation are sometimes unavoidably unavailable to real people in real life.

In 1922 when my grandmother was widowed as a young mother, her parents forbid her to date after the death of my grandfather. They may have believed that dating would violate her Temple covenants with her eternal companion. Today she would not be so tightly constrained. Today she would be encouraged to marry a second worthy husband in the Temple, but for time and not eternity. The doctrine hasn't changed, but the intrepretation of it has. It didn't even require a revelation, just a change in attitude and, perhaps, church policy.

After the 1978 revelation opening the priesthood to worthy black members of the church, Bruce R. McConkie was questioned about his many strident statements against "the Negro." In a speech entitled All Are Alike unto God he said, "Forget everything that I have said, or what President Brigham Young or President George Q. Cannon or whomsoever has said in days past that is contrary to the present revelation. We spoke with a limited understanding and without the light and knowledge that now has come into the world. We get our truth and our light line upon line and precept upon precept. We have now had added a new flood of intelligence and light on this particular subject, and it erases all the darkness and all the views and all the thoughts of the past. They don’t matter any more."

Elder McConkie thus affirmed the Ninth Article of Faith: "We believe all that God has revealed, all that He does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God."

Fortunately we won't have to forget or set aside anything in the Proclamation on the Family if and when it is revealed that in addition to traditional marriage being ordained of God, "other circumstances" require individual and church-wide adaptation, and should be handled with as much love, accomodation and support as death or disability.

Could it be that one day future church leaders will also acknowledge that some of the disintegration of gay Mormon families was based on limited understanding and that those who abused their fellow saints are also accountable for their action or inaction? 

I hope that one day we will all sing with great fervor and thanksgiving Carol Lynn Pearson and Reid N. Nibley's prophetic Primary song I'll Walk with You:

If you don't walk as most people do, 

Some people walk away from you,

But I won't! I won't!

If you don't talk as most people do

Some people talk and laugh at you,

But I won't! I won't!

I'll walk with you,

I'll talk with you.

That's how I'll show my love for you.

Jesus walked away from none.

He gave his love to ev'ryone.

So I will! I will!

Jesus blessed all he could see,

Then turned and said,

"Come, follow me."

And I will! I will! I will! I will!

I'll walk with you,

I'll talk with you.

That's how I'll show my love for you.

(This is an updated version on an earlier blog I published in 2010.

The first edition is here.)

Wonderful Dogs

I need to get out of the inversion. Follow the good example of those who have escaped even for a few minutes to higher ground. Meanwhile I've found that by combining ascending and descending alphabets, I can generate a somewhat nonsensical but nonetheless personally meaningful list of things I'm seeking or am thankful for or merely find to be a notion of interest.

-

azure zings

brothers younger

colorful extrapolations

dark winters

enthusiastic vacationing

fortunate understandings

good times

high spirits

inspirational recordings

jealous questions

kitchen patrol

loving opportunities

musically nurturing

natural men

opportunistic moves

provident knowledge

quiet justice

reinforcing intuition

sophisticated humility

telling generalities

understated freedom

virtual energy

wonderful dogs

ecstatic cats

young bloods

zippy ancestors

Another note to RIDK, the Reader I Don't Know

Wow, it's been more than a year since I've written to you, RIDK (Reader I Don't Know).

The last time was way back in December of 2011. (RIDK, by the way is pronounced like ridiculous without the you-less part.)

I know a bit more about you now than I did then. How could that be? How could I know more about someone I don't know? We'll it's really quite simple. Since you are, at this point, an imaginary person, I know more about your potentially endearing qualities. If we should ever meet and you actually have these qualities, well then I'll just be that much closer to knowing you're the one.

So what are these qualities?

Fit is one of them. Fit. Yes as in physically fit. You'll have a certain buff quality. Not that you'll necessarily have a six pack, but you'll feel great to hug. And there are other qualities of fit. Somehow my hands and your hands will fit together. And when we're walking, there will be something about your stride and my stride that fits together.

Another is your scent. You'll smell good to me whether you're freshly showered or in desperate need of a shower. There will be a certain quality in your breath that is both familiar and alluring. I guess what I'm saying here is that there will be a certain chemistry between us. Without even touching, I'll know and you'll know that we're a good match.

Your eyes could be sky blue, or steel gray, coffee brown or sage green or any of dozens of variations in color. It won't be the color of your eyes. It will be the kindness I feel when we're talking, or not talking. Somehow, even if there is a great conversation we're engaged in, I'll also feel another connection looking into your eyes, and you will feel it too.

Then, of course, there's your voice. I'm fairly certain you will be soft spoken. I suppose it's possible you'll have a naturally booming voice that you've learned to moderate into an almost whispering quality, but its more likely you'll have a clear but rather quiet approach to all your speaking. Of course you'll sometimes need to speak loudly to be heard in a crowded room. You'll have no trouble doing that. But for the most part your voice will be soothing.

Could it be that you will have none of these qualities? Yes. It's possible we won't fit, that you'll stink, that your eyes will be nothing special and your voice will remind me of fingernails on a chalkboard. But if so and yet there's some sure connection we both feel, then none of those things will matter.

If you somehow remind me of a young Marlon Brando from Streetcar Named Desire, well that will be nice. But it's possible you'll be more like Brando in The Godfather or Last Tango in Paris. Or entirely different from anything I've described or imagined and still be as close to a perfect match as anyone could find in this imperfect world full of imperfect but sometimes entirely lovable human beings.

So, RIDK, those are some of the possibilities I see in our possible bromance. What about you? Do my specifics bring to mind any of the qualities you're seeking in a friend you haven't yet met?

Torn and Tattered

As a bisexual man, married to a woman, and fairly active in the Mormon church, I certainly have mixed feelings about the church and its approach to sexuality.

Last Sunday one of our Sacrament meeting speakers talked of those among us who may be suffering in silence. He mentioned those who feel they can not be their authentic selves because others would not understand.

He noted that one-size-fits-all platitudes may not bring relief to those who suffer. He mentioned torn and tattered packages with content that just spills out. I don’t know if he was talking about worn out platitudes, worn out faith or worn out individuals. Maybe all of the above.

Then he asked, “What about our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters who are seeking loving relationships?” His voice caught a bit when he asked that question. It was the spoken equivalent of shedding a tear.

After the meeting, many of my fellow ward members approached the stand to talk to this man who spoke truths not usually heard in church. I also wanted to thank him, but didn’t want to stand in line.

So later, after Sunday school class and before Priesthood I simply told him that I appreciated his talk and that when he wanted to cry, I wanted to cry, too. He kindly said thanks and I thought perhaps someday we’ll talk again.

Meanwhile I continue to be a man in a mixed-orientation marriage with mixed feelings about faith and doubt, transparency and tradition, change and the lack of it.

My 2012 Christmas Eve Alphabet

Awareness of
Blessings and
Challenges.
Delicious and sometimes
Extravagent
Foods.
Generally good
Health, mentally and physically.
Intimate conversations.
Joy to the World
Kindness, kin and time in the kitchen
Love
Music, speaking of which:
Nutcracker and Messiah.
Opportunities to give and receive.
Pine
Questions and quests
Reading stories
Seeing changed hearts
Telling it on a mountain
Understanding
Vitality and a sense of
Wonder
Xcitement and creative spelling
Youthful
Zeal even when you are no longer young

The Earth's Tilt and Mine

Friday morning at 4:12 a.m. Mountain Time the earth will be tilting as far from the sun as it ever does here in the north hemisphere. So we get the shortest amount of daylight and the longest amount of darkness and then we slowly start edging back to longer and eventually warmer weather. Of course for summer lovers the solstice could be celebrated in the southern hemisphere where they're getting the longest day.

The earth tilts and our seasons change dramatically as we get farther north or south of the equator. Is there a spiritual or social similarity. If I stay close to my values, traditions and supportive relationships will I fare better than being north or south of such nurturing? Or is change a reality to accept and embrace.

I like to think my friends and family will always standby my side. Some have. I've rarely been let down even though I have let down others. But life has bumps in the road and winter solstices. I hope I can remember to keep that in perspective. I hope I can remember that when I've heard just one too many continuous playing of Carpenter's Christmas music, that I will wisely retreat to a more private space to listen to Debussy or jazz. Or to simply sit at a keyboard and know that these thoughts can be shared at the push of a button.

Do you have winter solstice thoughts? How do you make the most of the promises of the holidays and minimize the darkness. It's one of the reasons I hang Christmas lights. I like making the world just a little be brighter. What do you? What works for you? And what do you try to avoid?

the poem that doesn't rhyme

Bernie Taupin said it so well
"I am the poem that doesn't rhyme"
Yet I am alive
And sometimes I thrive
Such pays the way for my non-rhymes

-

That was fun to try to write a quasi limerick. 

Who is is Bernie Taupin? Some younger readers may ask. And what do you mean you're a poem that doesn't rhyme. I will perhaps answer these questions at some point. But here's more of a hint about Bernie. He wrote this for a fellow name Elton John.

And now that it's all over
The birds can nest again
I'll only snow when the sun comes out
I'll shine only when it starts to rain

And if you want a drink
Just squeeze my hand 
And wine will flow into the land
And feed my lambs

For I am a mirror
I can reflect the moon
I will write songs for you
I'll be your silver spoon

I'm sorry I took your time
I am the poem that doesn't rhyme
Just turn back a page
I'll waste away, I'll waste away
I'll waste away, I'll waste away
I'll waste away, I'll waste away

Trust Limerick

Loving others requires some trust

You don't want to be left in the dust

I want to embrace

The beauty I face

So accepting myself is a must

It's been such a beautiful day, I wish I could cap it off with a beautiful, or at least a whimsical limerick, and there is a tiny bit of whimsy in the above. A pinch perhaps. I think I do better writing first thing in the morning rather than deep into the evening. Nonetheless, I'm glad for this first official day of fall. 

bi author's limerick

I love my sisters and my brothers
'Cuz I've got choices, I've got druthers
Both loves helps me fly
And somehow get by
I'll credit both on my book covers

A previous comment mentioned the catch 22 of bisexuality, that no matter which gender you're loving, there's always angst for the other. I don't deny that reality, but the upside is that there are more people to love and be loved by, if not in fact then at least in possibility.

Now about the author stuff. What's the difference between an unpublished author and a published one? I don't think it's quite as stark as the difference between on and off. I think it's more like the difference between caterpillar and butterfly. (Thank you, Carol Lynn Pearson!) It's a matter of progression. Easy for me to say as I go to work at my day job. Ok, enough of all this positive Friday morning thinking.

A man crush limerick

When I feel his touch I love it much
But is it a crutch to crave this such?
I tell myself no
I will not let go
And thank God so much for my man crush

So here's a good reason to get up and get going on my day even though I dread some of the obstacles I'll face. Get up, get going, I tell myself, because you never know what small wonders any given day might bring. One of those small miracles came my way just yesterday. I was with my good friend and there was conversation, laughter, warmth, trust and even a bit of physical touch. It doesn't happen everyday, but when it does it is still magical to me, even after all these years.

limerick of lonliness

I'm fully awake but feel quite slow
If I let myself the tears would flow
I'm not feeling grand
Please give me a hand
With your touch I'll recover I know

I wrote that this morning and writing it somehow helped me buck up a bit. I'd say my day started as a D+ and ended at a B+. Going to church helped. Having one of my high priest buddies put his arm around me helped. It was the touch I needed. And being with the grandkids helped, too.

How do you cope with the challenges of being gay or bi in a straight world? Of not being straight in the culture of Mormonism?

to love or to be loved

If you could either be loved or love someone, but not both, which would you choose?

I related to this post because I tend to have crushes on straight guys who will never love me the way I love them. But in my case that's a blessing since I am a bisexual man married to a woman. 

Sometimes life seems like Send in the Clowns. My wife loved me in a way I couldn't fully love her in return. I have loved some straight men who can't fully love me. But I tell myself I am blessed to have love in my life. I am blessed to be able to love both men and women. And sometimes I believe it.

Send in the Clowns
by Stephen Sondheim

Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.

Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

Just when I'd stopped
Opening doors,
Finally knowing
The one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again
With my usual flair,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.

Don't you love farce?
My fault, I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want -
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Quick, send in the clowns.

What a surprise.
Who could foresee
I'd come to feel about you
What you'd felt about me?
Why only now when i see
That you'd drifted away?
What a surprise.
What a cliché.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother - they're here.

from seriously depressed to feeling good

Over at  http://mohofosho.blogspot.com/  Gay Sacramento Mormon Guy is unhappy enough to have tried to end his life. I remember feeling about that a decade ago. Here's what I wrote to him. I hope it gives him some perspective. I hope it gives you some perspective...

When I was suicidal I found a helpful book. It was so helpful I wrote this review of it on Amazon. I hope it can help you, too.

This review is from: Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy (Mass Market Paperback)

I'd seen this book before. I'd browsed through it back in 1991 and didn't find anything profound, but I wasn't seriously depressed at the time either. In June 2001 it was a different story. I'd been feeling suicidal since April. I was away from home on business and considered ending it all in a Minneapolis hotel room, but didn't want my wife have the hassle of shipping my body 1,000 miles back home.
I forced myself to take a walk and saw "Feeling Good" in a nearby bookstore. "What the hell," I thought, "for less than $10 this is worth a try." Back in my hotel room I took the depression test and scored 64 - severe depression. I read much of the book that night, took the self-test again the next day and scored in the 40s. With a 20 point drop in less than 24 hours, I again had hope. I got home, got counseling, got medication.

Although I was still depressed, it was less severe and I wasn't as suicidal. In July of 2001 I bought "Ten Days to Self Esteem" and went from a depression score of 25 to 17 in ten days of doing the written exercises everyday. It took about 9 months but with exercise, meds, counseling, support from friends and family, and the perspective offered by the events of that September 11, I started getting scores showing very little depression, much less anxiety and better relationships. Burns' approach has been an important part of that process for me.

(The book is still in print and is probably also available in your public library. Heck, I'll mail you my beat up copy I like.)

Shaving: Chore or Affirmation?

I quite like the idea of writing daily again. Actually daily pages as suggested in the book The Artist’s Way. The idea is to just do a mind dump first thing in the morning. I liked the idea when I read it yesterday, but I didn’t really prepare for it. I should get my laptop all set up on a clean desk with it opened to a word processing program and just be ready to ease out of bed, open the cover and go. But today I at least thought about it. I got up to pee and then while I was downstairs decided to shave, but didn’t shower. Came back up and cleaned off my desk and opened this document and here we go.

Which brings me to the question of shaving. Do you enjoy it? Why or why not? How often do you shave? How do you shave? Razor? Electric? Where and when? Before showering, after showering. In the car on the way to work? What do you think about when you shave? Do you ever look in the mirror and tell yourself, "Man I'm lucky to be alive. Lucky to have whiskers and a razor and hot water. Lucky that I don't live in the age of straight razors where I could do some major damage to this handsome mug." Do you talk to yourself and enjoy the moment in the mirror, or is a more of a chore. Sure, you're using the mirror but only to see to shave, none of this introspective, self-talk, affirmation bs. 

Oh, and to go along with the amazing Steve Walker painting, have you ever been shaved someone else or been shaved by someone else? I'll confess it's happened to me three times. Once by a nursing student who had an assignment to shave a man. I was that lucky man. And twice in a barber's chair. I did it to do it, but unless I really like the barber, probably won't do it again. 

Ok and one last thing for you, Duck. I realize I've written this from a man's point of view, but I'm also interested in the female shaving or non-shaving experience. Every once in a while I'll find a razor in the shower and know that a daughter has decided to get rid of her stubble. If you'd care to weigh in on these questions, please do. 

David Rakoff, my radio buddy

David Rakoff died last Thursday. I didn’t realize until then how much I liked him. But now, I’m searching for online appreciations, for YouTube videos, and looking forward, much more than I think I ever have before, to listening to This American Life this weekend which will feature a full hour with a man, I realize now, was my friend and an advocate of my writing, my coming out, my being myself.

Why couldn’t I realize that while he was alive, so I could have at least written him some fan mail? And said, “Thank you for speaking the truth in such a humorous way. Thank you for being out, but not being out and proud so much as being out and just your genuine neurotic self. Thank you for sharing that talented, caring and cynical self with the world. You made my world better because you were here.”

If I’d have known it would have been my only chance to actually meet him, I’d have probably hung around trying to get an autograph when he appeared at Kingsbury Hall a few years ago. But I didn’t know he was going to die, and I didn’t know how much really liked him until last Thursday, until it was too late.

Or is it? I haven’t read his books. They’re no different now than they were when he was alive. And if I really believe my religion, I’ll see David again. Who knows maybe he’s already met my mom and dad and stepdad and grandparents. Maybe they’ve told him what I could not, “Our bisexual son and grandson, really appreciated you. Your voice on the radio kept him company on a lot of weekends.”

And maybe it’s not too late to learn once again to value people here and now. And, maybe, just maybe, if you love someone, to tell them. Face-to-face.

If you don’t know of David, here’s his Wikipedia bio. And here's a vid of him talking about the difficult process of writing. If you’re interested in hearing more, catch This American Life this weekend.

As I think of David, I find myself hearing an old Bob Dylan song:

While riding on a train goin’ west


I fell asleep for to take my rest


I dreamed a dream that made me sad


Concerning myself and the first few friends I had

With half-damp eyes I stared to the room


Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon


Where we together weathered many a storm


Laughin’ and singin’ till the early hours of the morn

By the old wooden stove where our hats was hung


Our words were told, our songs were sung


Where we longed for nothin’ and were quite satisfied


Talkin’ and a-jokin’ about the world outside

With haunted hearts through the heat and cold


We never thought we could ever get old


We thought we could sit forever in fun


But our chances really was a million to one

As easy it was to tell black from white


It was all that easy to tell wrong from right


And our choices were few and the thought never hit


That the one road we traveled would ever shatter and split

How many a year has passed and gone


And many a gamble has been lost and won


And many a road taken by many a friend


And each one I’ve never seen again

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain


That we could sit simply in that room again


Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat


I’d give it all gladly if our lives could be like that