All

Today is a good day.  They aren't all, but today is.  DG.

I've said it before, and it is difficult to explain or expound upon, but it is so true . . .
Coming Out is the most intense spiritual journey of my life.  All of it.  I could never have imagined.  Still can't.  It is still unfolding, as it always will be.

The Holy One of Being does not demand all.  Except when the Holy One does.  For me, it seems necessary.  To give all.  As my spiritual director said, we must hand all over - in thanksgiving.  The Holy One blesses all; and returns to us that which we need.

I know that I must.  Well, it isn't that I must. It's just that I must.

It is all about 'Letting Go'.

"It is only to empty hands that all may be given."  You must lose your life, to find it.  You must give, to receive. You must die, to live.  Shit.  This I do not like.  Not one bit.  I am screaming and crying and squirming - big time.

And I am laughing, too.  At myself.  I know that it's true.  I know that I must.  I hope that I will.  And there is that part of me that wants to.  Really.

I suppose there is good reason the 12 Steps have always appealed to me - there is such deep spirituality there.

I know.  This seems a bit random.  'Spose it is.  But it is what it is.

On this night of the Third Day of Christmas, as we move toward the Turning of the Year, may there be grace and peace to you and your house.

Cheers.

Oh, I'm on facebook now, too.  Email me if you're interested.

Solstice

I'm waiting for the light.

This season of the year is quite tough for me.  And, things are looking up.
The religious celebrations of a Christian sort help me make it through, though I know many gay brothers and sisters do not countenance stuff that has to do with "Christianity" or the church.  And I deeply understand that. No one need tell me about the church or "Christianity" and what it has meant, done, inflicted upon, etc., our kind.

Being Christian, though, in the very liberal fashion in which I claim that title, ain't so bad.  There is a deeper Truth underneath the religiosity and practice of many who have hurt us, and do hurt us, and will defame and shame and injure and speak ill of us.  Really; there is a deeper Truth there. for me, it is worth it.

And, as I work for a religious non-profit, I'm deeply rooted in the Tradition.  And it's more than you think.  As the appointed leader of said religious non-profit, I came out almost two years ago.  And I'm still here, and we are actually growing and (in small ways) flourishing. The story is beyond amazing and unexpected and grace-filled.  The Truth and the Practice of many is far beyond the idiocy and hypocrisy and hate-filled-practice of some.  It's true.

One odd (quite odd) and blessed thing that comes to me in my 'employment' is the chance for some extended time away.  It's called a sabbatical.  And now it seems I will be graced with one.  February and March.  Time will be spent in meditation and contemplation with some monks (most of whom are gay, I think).  I'll be welcomed and accepted and given time for work and prayer and no one cares that I am gay.  I am hoping it will be a time of further transformation.

In South Africa.  Can you imagine?  I am only just beginning to.

The next few days will be very busy for me.  So,  Cheers, Shalom, and Merry Christmas to all.

PS:  I've got so much Celtic blood in me (it's true) now I understand why I want to paint myself blue and dance naked around a mistletoe-laden oak tree.  Huzzah!

I Lost It

I went to get a prescription refilled this evening, after a meeting at work.  "I'm sorry, this requires pre-authorization."

So, right there, at the counter in the Pharmacy, I called the company that handles prescription coverage for my health insurance.  I won't mention the name, but its initials are Medco.  After talking to their computer for a while, I finally got a live person.  (After talking with me, I hope she did not have to take a personal day, dissolving into tears, running screaming from the building.)

I was furious.  Livid.  Fit-to-be-tied.  Outraged. (What words could you add to this list?)  While civil, I don't think you could say I was polite.  I apologized to the person on the other end of the phone, saying that I knew it was not her fault.  I knew that she was just doing her job, (and being polite about it).  I told her that . . . . . . and then told her how furious/outraged/angry/livid I was about this system.  I was ready to occupy something, and it would not be a pretty sight.

And, you wouldn't believe what a nice, mild-mannered, usually calm person I am.  Most of the time.

So, I have to call the drug lords of insurance-land to be told a telephone number that I must give to the doctor's office, so that the doctor's office may call it to get a form faxed to them (the Doc's office) that must then be completed and returned to the prescription barons.  Then the headless wonders of prescription hell can decide if it's really what I should have, a legitimate drug, a real need, and whether they will pay for it. After all, the doctor's office has so much spare time, and so many extra employees just sitting around.  And, the doc doesn't know her arse from a hole in the ground - how could she possibly know what to prescribe for me.

When you go to your doctor, does she routinely give you random, expensive, useless prescriptions usually prescribed for symptoms and ailments that you do not have?  Perhaps many doctors do.  Do they?

I talked tonight with four different persons at the drug castle.  (I apologized and warned them in advance.)  The third person with whom I spoke was in the pre-authorization department. Then, he transferred me to a pharmacist in the pre-authorization department.  Who only works in the pre-authorization department.  They have pre-authorization pharmacists?!  Who knew?

This is all to save us money.  Pre-authorization departments.  Doctor's offices with staff members who do nothing but make calls and file forms with pre-authorization departments.  To save us money?

The hilarity of it continues: it was an old, generic drug.  Not like the doc is getting pay-offs from the drug company on this one.

Opening a bottle of wine was the best decision of the night.  I'm better now.  A bit.

Cold Front with Sun

There may be a lot to barometric pressure and its effect on one's mood.  Or not.

Maybe it's the rain, the clouds, the lack of sun.  Am I affected by that Seasonal Affective Disorder?  I know not.  But a front was moving through yesterday, and my mood was darker than than clouds.  Today it is cold, but the sun is out.  Deo gratias.  Is it sun or barometric pressure or phases of the moon?

These ups and downs seem rather high and low.  And, without medications stemming the slide, I can get into quite a funk.  But then, today is much better.  I'm really felling it all.  As I've said before (quoting a wise friend from years ago) "If you can't feel it, you can't heal it."  So now comes the work of healing it.

Many thanks for supportive words from folk in the blogosphere.

Fear and Loneliness

With a couple of days off, right now, a rarity for me, and with a tiny bit saved up, I thought of having an adventure.  But I haven't done it.  I got so close to booking a room.  And then closed the browser.  What is my problem?

At first, I feared I was again isolating myself.  I think I'm adjusting to life alone.  And it's been lonely.  I've been lonely.  I am lonely.  Even getting up the nerve to call a friend has been tough.  But talking isn't always what I want to do.

There are some reasons for not traveling too far (or at all); but are they reasons or just lame excuses?  Living into the loneliness, leaning into the fear are things I do not want to do; but that may be exactly what's necessary.  As Annie Dillard said (I think): we have to ride the monsters all the way down.

This is not the ride I'd like to be on, right now.

I am surviving, doing OK, really.  Perhaps I simply need to grow up some.  I've lived out of fear most of my life - so transition ain't so easy.  But not impossible.

There is much that needs doing around the house: cleaning, straightening, sorting, moving; things to make this house feel more like home.  That may be the more responsible thing to do.  And to pray/meditate/contemplate.  And a day trip may be in order.

I'll have another time for a big adventure.  Maybe I'll have someone to go with me.

Here, and not

A rough patch of work has kept me exhausted and weary.  It has been hard to focus and get through it all.  Forgive my absence.  Maybe it's time to end blogging - but then, maybe not.  I'll hang in a bit longer and see how it goes.

I'm in the kind of work that involves a great deal of emotional labor.  Not much heavy lifting or physical stuff, but a lot of emotional work that can be very exhausting.  And, with that, it's not something that one can "leave at the office" very easily; and it involves a schedule that is anything but "9 to 5."

I've taken little time off and certainly not two days together.  Even days off end up having just one little thing with work.  Others do it, I'm not the only one in this line of work.  I just don't seem to handle it very well, sometimes.  I'm looking to take a few days off next week - three.  But what will I do with them?  I can't afford much, but I'm going somewhere.

And there's not much other news about anything - or anyone.  Am I capable of handling a relationship?  Entering in to a relationship?  Maintaining a relationship?  I'm having my doubts . . . . . .  But I'm still hoping.  Cheers, till next time.

Alive, and pissed . . . .

I've not been online to read blogs, let alone post something. 
Won't say I've not been online . . . .  
never mind.

There are times I feel angry.  Just angry. . . . . at the world, myself, who-knows-what.  I'm that way right now.  It's been a good day, but I'm feeling a bit pissed.

Working in the religious non-profit sector, I was (finally) dissed for being (somewhat) Christian AND gay.  Having posted something on a rather free-thinking, free-spirited group, I got somebody really pissed at me about that.  OK.  It's happening.  I'm all right with it, but it's just not happened before.  I've had it so easy in so many ways.

Really.  Of course, I've had my own struggles, but coming out has been easier.  Maybe there are parts that will get more difficult.  We'll see.

More on that later.  Cheers, all

Spo Shirt, Beer City, BLURP

The amazing Spo Shirt Tour visited one of our local breweries.  No, the picture is not about dogs or science, but the Lexington Avenue Brewery (known locally as the Lab).  You see, our fair city is Beer City USA.  Really.  I didn't make that up.

So, even though we didn't stop in for a brew, we stopped by for a picture.  My crappy camera doesn't focus, so forgive the fuzziness of the picture.  I make no apologize about my natural fuzziness.

Tonight, I'm going with friend D for supper and a movie.  This week is the QFest film festival in our fair city.  Should be great fun.

Tomorrow is our local Pride celebration, BLURP.  I'm volunteering at a couple of booths throughout the day.  Too windy to wear my kilt, I fear.  Could get me into trouble.  More trouble.

Life goes on.  And with gratitude, I'm making it, a day at a time.  Today's a good day.

Cheers all.

Spo Shirt Tour

The Famous Spo Shirt arrived and has now paraded around town.  I'm not used to being in such bright, colorful attire!

In our first photo, I'm in from of our famous, art deco City Building.  Though the sun was out, it was a chilly day!

As my computer is acting up and may not be able to handle much today, I'll add some posts with a few other pictures.

And, as my camera is really awful and doesn't seem to focus well, I ask your forgiveness on the pix.  It was not the photographer (friend D.S.).

OH!  The Spo Shirt also made an entry into Sean's Undie Monday.  Check it out.

Septemberance

Remembering the events of ten years ago has been sad.  Really sad.  Forgiveness is a tough thing, sometimes. 

Then again, sometimes, it is the only thing.

Islam is not the enemy.  Religion isn't even the enemy (though it's easy to say so.)Extremism, absolutism, and fanaticism - they are the enemies.  Those who feel so strongly about being right are the ones who think they must punish those who are not like them.

If we do not behave in a very different way, if we do not embrace forgiveness, we become like them.  It is so easy to do.

"They" did not win.  The attacks of the 11th of September, 2001, did not succeed.  There only success will be if we become like them.

Even if we do not feel very forgiving, we must live it on the outside, until we can embrace it on the inward side.  Then . . . . .

Love wins. 

Update

Yes, alive, and OK, if not well.  But, hey, compared to life in Mogadishu, I'm doing great. (Note to self:  stop whining).

The Spo Shirt has arrived, and I shall post pictures of its whereabouts this week.  Now, I just need to get out and about some.

Update:  It's a dark and stormy night as the remnants of Tropical Storm Lee roar through the mountains.  Just got some pictures of the newly arrived Spo Shirt. Thought I'd share some.

Too long away

Sorry to have been away for a bit.  The rough patch I've been in has stretched out longer than I thought.  Isolating and keeping to myself some hasn't been good.  A real blunder at work that sent me reeling.  Still recovering from that one.

Things are getting better, albeit slowly.  I'm going to write a bit more later.  Just wanted to let you know I'm alive and sitting up, taking nourishment (as we say).

Felt the earthquake today.  Ugh.

Busy, better, beach

Busy week.  People keep dying.  Ugh.

Sometimes, in the oddity of the work I do, I deal with the dead.  And there is an added oddity of dealing with a cemetery.  Yes.  I know more about burying the dead than you'd want to know.  'Tis true.  Today, I was helping dress the dead, (in a special outfit peculiar to his office.  New one for me). The deceased was a dear colleague, and it was an honor.  Just never know what the day will bring.

Anyway, this Saturday, after ceremonies involving all of the above, I'm off to the beach.  Some "clients" of mine have a place at the beach they lend us for a time in the summer.  My children and their mom are there now, and I'll go down on Saturday (while mom drives back).  This arrangement has worked well for us.  The profile picture is of me, on said beach, last summer (or maybe two years ago).  I'll see if I can get a new shot this year.

I've noticed:  Blogs with photographic backgrounds load slowly, and do not scroll easily. Is it just my computer?  or what?

Cheers.

More Better

Another doctor visit and two antibiotics have me feeling better.  Support and encouragement from friends have me being better, too.  Thanks.  Diverticulitis ain't no fun, I've come to discover.  I think I've been battling with this for quite some time, actually.  Only recently did it become so acute as to need some remedy.

Any illness can call us to re-evaluate some things.  And, of course (if you've been reading this blog) I'm always in the throes of something.  Up and down, and back and forth.

This week, I'm aiming to settle down a bit.  Calm the tummy, calm the spirit, be in touch with Spirit.  That will be the most calming, healing thing of all.  Why do I run so?  It is so simply and difficult - at the same time.

Things go well.  i am grateful.

Belly ache

marching through my tummy

Ugh.  I've had a belly ache for at least a week.  Gets better, then worse.  I've been home most of the week.  Been to the doctor, had a CT scan - nothing.  I've spent a lot of money, though. A lot.

Money is one of the areas where I have the greatest fear.  I think I've written about all that before.  It seems any time I get a little ahead, I then move two steps back.

And I have fears of being ill.  Something wrong, really wrong.  But I know that probably not the case.  Just weather it, hang in, pray, relax, rest.

I guess I'm glad I'm the boss or someone would have fired me by now.

Clouds and Sun

Moving brings all kinds of stresses, re-assessments, acts of discernment, days of frustration, and opportunities for recycling.  And it can also be very depressing.  I am quite depressed today, anyway.  Be it moving or barometric pressure (and a cloudy, sun-less day), I've had a tough time getting moving.  But I am plodding, nonetheless.

Boxes: emptied, and still full; drawers not recently opened or explored; feeling a bit like a visitor in someone's home.  And yet making myself at home.  I need to focus on making it home.  And what that mans to me.

I've made an electronic connection with someone once in a situation like mine.  he's read back over old blog posts and made comments.  I went back and re-read some old posts.  Wow.  I wrote that stuff?  Could have fooled me.

And in other news, , , , , my last post ended with a "maybe."  It was intended to be a "may be;" not expressing uncertainty of connection, but wonderment about what may yet be.  It was indeed a very real connection.

And, I may have committed a terrible blogger-sin, or had a stroke of genius:  I told him about my blog, and sent him the link.  Hello, D.  are you there?  So now he has the opportunity to get to know me through what I've written.  And, (or but) I can't write all about him on my blog!  Yet, it's seemed the kind of intuitive connection that leads me to want him to know me better.  And there is so much history in this blog.  I really like him, but it's certainly more than a "like" kind of connection.  Who knows.  May be.  May it be.  What yet may be?

On the Journey

My laptop is still out, but I've come up with a desk top for home, for now.  It's good to stay connected.

Check out a new brother on the journey:  http://soultwist.wordpress.com/  Give him support and wisdom.

I attended this weekend a local celebration for two men who were married (yes, married) in DC in April.  It was a wonderful experience.  One of them has been for years involved in theatre and music.  So, it was a sumptuous, musical feast, with a little religious stuff in there, too.

I was quite moved by the event - and I hadn't expected to be.  Yes.  It's possible, it's happening, our world is changing, albeit slower than we'd like.  Also, I was moved to think of possibilities for my own life, too.  One day.  One day . . . .

And, in other news, I met someone at said wedding celebration.  Sadly, he lives far away.  But the connection was quite real.  Maybe.

Electron Death

It seems my computer has died, or (at least) is very ill.  So, I'll be off-line for a time.  Hopefully, it will not be a time, a time, and a half time, but one never knows.  At least my gmail account(s) will work.  But not my work email.  Aw, shucks.

There are many other things I cannot do while computer-less.  But life goes on.  Ugh.

Unpacking . . . . .

before the onslaught of boxes . . .

Living in a home that was home to others is an interesting task.  Some of their stuff.  Some of mine.  Sorting, deciding, re-arranging . . . . it goes on.

What to keep, what to throw, what to move, what to sort: decisions galore.  And it can be overwhelming at times.  Of course, I can be easily overwhelmed.  And, with enough floor space, we can put off decision making till tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow is another day. (Thanks, Scarlett).

I'm getting things sorted, but not me.  I've got some sorting I need to do, too.  But that will come.  I've been living with others for over two years.  This being alone is a new thing.  I don't like changes. And I miss my friends.

In other news . . . .

I have managed a date now and then, even amongst the busy-ness of everything.  There are some really nice guys out there.  I hope one will find me.  And I, him.  If I can find the time.

Moving In

The modern house of 1980, complete with harvest gold and avocado green.  Ah. Lovely.

But there's lots of room and some hidden surprises.  Like the old record-player-tuner hidden in the corner end table.  Open the doors, and it slides out.

My children had never seen such!  Oh yes, they'd seen turn tables, but nothing like this, complete with record changer.  I told them that we may not have had "6 CD changers" in our cars, but we were not without entertainment.

I put several records (LP's) on the changer and showed them how they dropped one record at a time, the arm with the phonograph needle moved into place and slowly lowered itself.  Amazing!

There are some beautiful hydrangeas in the yard, as well.  An ample kitchen, and lots of room.  New adventures.

Moving

Through some interesting turns of fate and providence, I will be moving.  A house has become available through the kind generosity of some of my constituents.  I'm invited to live there, paying only utilities.  My [one-way] commute to work will be 2.2 miles (instead of 18.6 miles).  Instead of a 30 minute drive, it will be 10 minutes, on a busy day.

Enlarged to show texture.

There will be room for my genetic offspring to visit, spend the night, make a meal, watch a movie, and have good daddy time.  Important stuff right now. 

And,  this means I will have lots of room for company, too.  So plan your visit now.  I do love hosting folk.

C&S, my gracious hosts for the last two years (and several months) have been the most wonderfullest folk I could ever imagine living with.  It has been an easy thing.  We've gotten along well, been very compatible, and enjoyable.  They will still be around and always be friends. Thank you, boys, for so much love and kindness, fun and good meals, hugs and understanding.  You're the best!

So, this will be a new chapter, in a way.  I need to add I am adding new disciplines to my life: walking more, cooking, balancing my work and personal life, getting finances organized and under control.  Frightening thought, doing all that.

One day at a time.

telling stories

Stories define us, in many ways, telling us who we are, giving us history and rootedness, helping us know about our people.

Scripture is (broadly speaking) telling our story - reminding us who we are and to Whom we belong.  It is way bad that some folk use scripture as if it were the answers in the back of the algebra text book (do they do that any more?) [Long ago, in a school system far away . . . . the algebra textbooks had, in the back, the answers to the odd numbered problems.]

Stories remind us, recall the great events of life, and the tragedies, as well.  They help us know how to act, give us a frame of reference.  They help us remember and recall the past but also live into the future.

But there may be many stories for each of us.  Which ones we listen to makes a big difference.

I have been struggling with depression and many demons.  All the 'not good enough' tales, the 'just work harder and move faster' sagas, the 'you must earn it - you're not worth it' stories.  Sometimes I listen.  Bad move.

Recently, I was asked to be part of a panel discussion about welcoming and affirming religious non-profits (of the sort for which I work).  (Part of our small-time community effort to stand against the Exodus conference going on nearby.)

My part was to tell the story of the last seven or so years of my life.  Recalling some of the details, the twists and turns, the ups and downs, the sadness, grief, and joy of it all.  Telling my story makes it real again - the grace and the details that remind me how many folk gave support and love, how Love overcame fear, how surrender and trusting were the only avenues that made sense.

I need that trust, grace, surrender, Love, support . . . . . I need it still.  And telling my story helps make them real again.  It really is the Truth that sets us free.

I feel better now.  Which story are you listening to?

Raindbows over 'Exodus'

Those sad folk who call themselves "Christians" and believe that gay folk can be turned from their evil ways will be gathering near my town of residence next week.  Needless to say, some queer folk in our town are setting up some events to counter said gathering.  How this odd city with so many queer folk can exist in the midst of such unbelieving "christianists" never ceases to amaze me.

Reading some of their entries about freedom, grace, compassion, etc., I must admit that I could say many of the same things about my experience of coming out!  Dig deeper blinded ones - the Truth is out there.  The Deeper Reality of Grace is that God loves us as God made us: queer.  Love Wins.

Through forty years of deep struggle, the depth of Grace has accepted and embraced me.  And called me into Love.  Yep.  Love wins, indeed.

If today is the end of the world, it's already tomorrow in Australia

"It's the end of the world as we know it . . . ."

Yes, and I am feeling fine.

I've seen a bit of the news about the end of the world, on Saturday, May 21st, at 6 pm. Daylight or Standard time?  But I'm unsure as to which time zone the prediction was referring.  It's already Sunday in New Zealand, which is (apparently) still there.

I guess the ancients who encoded all this secret stuff in holy writ didn't specify.  I'm not so worried, though I'd like not to have to prepare for work tomorrow.  And, (it's now 4 30 p EDT) there may not be much time left.  Unless your on the West Coast.  Is it still there?  Hello California, we salute you.

Those who see things encoded in scripture have confused their King James Version with Sudoku and the crossword.

I've got to get to work.  I have a Rapture Party to attend tonight.
Cheers, all.

Fair to partly cloudy

Rain has moved on.  The sun  is shining.  Still, my life is partly cloudy.  Folk have been keeping my really busy of late.  Really.  I'm giving up on treading water and hoping to find my snorkel and flippers.  It's deep, but not circling fins have been sighted, yet.

Bears in the garden.

I've been honored to be asked my opinions on some things by a few readers, here and there. 
I am always happy to respond to questions.  Email is on the profile.
Not sure I'm so wise or experienced, but being in an odd sort of work, it interests some others in this odd sort of work.  Too bad none of them live closer by.  I'd like to meet some folk in this odd work who are, well, odd-like-me.

This summer, I hope to have some time away from work, but there are no plans as of yet.  And no money to go with the, as yet, unmade plans.  I'm always happy to stay with friends here and there (and always welcome invitations).  Though space is limited here, always glad to have company.  There's only the sofa, or my bed.  Take you pick.

Right now I'm so tired, I'm wandering.  Best to get back to some emergency assistance at hand.  It's always when I'm off the clock,  except, I never am.

Cheers to all.

Come out! - On having lived in a foreign country

In talking with a friend about my journey (years of living the life I thought I was supposed to have, marriage, children, suburbia, etc.) he said to me, "Oh, so you really know what it's like to live in a foreign country."

Of late, I am living more and more into being Out.  Having sojourned in a different land (in which I convince myself that I am a sorely mixed-up straight boy who just needs to get over this desire to rub up on some hairy men) I have come to discover that I've been speaking a strange dialect that I've never quite mastered.  Now, I am learning to return to my native tongue - and it is coming back to me, so to speak.  {Now look, I know the previous sentence may seem to be full of double entendres.  I didn't mean it that way; or did I?}

The gospel lesson a few Sundays ago was the story of the raising of Lazarus.  It is not lost on me what Jesus says "in a loud voice:"  Lazarus, come out!

Yes, there you have it.  Jesus himself commands us to come out.  Ha!  Tell that one to Fred Phelps.  (Don't bother; he wouldn't get it anyway).

When, in fact, Lazarus does come forth, he is bound up with all the burial clothes.  He is bound up, dressed for death.  But now, Lazarus is given another chance.  Jesus does not remove the wrappings. He gives other instructions: Jesus tells the family and friends gathered (their mourning put on hold for some other occasion) to "unbind him and let him go."  Jesus may raise the dead, but it takes the whole community to unbind him.  It takes a village to help him come out.

It certainly does.

Thank you all.  Chris & Simon, James, Jeffrey & Jeff, Rich, Sean & Jeffrey,  John+ & John, Guy, Jack, Joe, Jane, Mahan-Dan-Liz-Miles, Porter, Bob, Dr. Ur-Spo, Wayne, RG, Benji, Raven~, Troll, Dave, Betty, Birdie, Michael, Bigg, Larry & Greg, Merritt, Paul,  Gregory, Michael, Mark, Austin-Rob-Michael-Mickey-Joel, Richard, Migs, Harry,  . . . . . . . . . . . .and so very many more.  thank you.


It's nearly Easter, but resurrection seems to be lagging a bit, for me. (Maybe I need some res-erection.  Sorry).
I am so looking forward to next week, and some time away!  It won't be far away, and comes only through the gift of a local establishment given for the health and well-being of folk in my weird job rather strange vocation.

Come out!

Hey

It is most inconvenient when life interferes with blogging.  But alas.  Such is the case.

I am alive and well, all things considered.  Work has been consuming much time, energy, and spirit.  I've been dealing with several serious cases, in my work with a certain religious non-profit agency.  Life and death, to be exact.

I hope to get some things written before too long.

I rejoice in the arrival of Spring.  [sniff, sneeze, drip]

Ouch - and - the power of song

I must remember how to tie shoes.  No, it's not the mechanics of handling the laces that eludes me (though, I must admit, it took me quite a while to learn, as a child).  It is the mechanics of bending over to tie them.

I "threw my back out."  Again.  Ugh.

It's not so bad as last time.  I am much better after just a few days.  But still.  This is not the way I wanted to spend "a few days off."  But it has forced the issue of taking some time off (which was sorely needed - no pun intended).

So, lying here in bed, legs supported gently, I've slept, read, watched YouTube videos (and some others), and done some work needed for today.  It was stuff  for which I was responsible for a business meeting.  I did not have to lead the "stuff", just have it prepared.  And so, over the weekend, I got it all done, emailed to appropriate folk.  It was an out-of-town meeting that I don't mind missing.  That wasn't really how I wanted to take time off, either.

And, I've got a big presentation thingy at work on Wednesday night.  So, I'll have time to work on that.

And in other news . . . . .

As mentioned, I watched some things on-line.  Several of the oft-touted It Gets Better videos, once again, moved me to tears.  Why does that always happen?  Some of the most moving ones involved several gay men's choruses.  So I Googled several and watched more youtubes of them.  I cried more.  Good stuff.  The power of song, the wonder of men's voices, the strength of other gay men singing out together.  The Heartland Men's Chorus has a wonderful mission:  "our voices enlighten, inspire, heal, and empower."  They are out and proud and take that mission seriously, I think.  Many other gay men's choruses do that, as well, and I was inspired and healed by hearing stories of others.  And music that sings to my soul.  There are some great It Get's Better videos with both music and interviews from the London Gay Men's Chorus, The Gay Men's Chorus of DC and the Vancouver Men's Chorus.  Worth watching.

Love wins

A friend of mine said he did not believe that God would condemn anyone to "hell" but that all will go to heaven.  It's just that some of them won't like it one damn bit.

There are always some who will complain.  No matter what.

My relationship with God has no need for anybody's condemnation.

I saw recently this video by Rob Bell.  Don't know if I'll buy the book, but his premise is compelling. Impressive.

LOVE WINS. from Rob Bell on Vimeo.

Restless

It is tough going to work.  And ain't it a shame how this work stuff gets in the way of life!  Can't they just send me the check each week?  Oh, yeah, the pay check.  Well, I guess that is a reason to go to work.  OK, if I must.  And, yeah, I guess I must.

Being in such an odd profession, time off to "recharge the batteries" is important.  I know, you wish you could have it too, right?  Well, coming form retreat tome back into work time, right into a board meeting was a big mistake.  I sort-of "grumped out."  Not good.  It wasn't terrible, but I should have taken some more transition time.  (Or, I should have just run away while I had the chance).

Now I'm feeling a bit restless.  Just a shade unsettled.  It's my day off, and I'm in my office.  There were some personal things I needed to get done here.  But I ended up doing a wealth of other work-related things too.  I ain't too bright, I know.

But maybe it's some other condition of restlessness or frustration or something . . . . .

I'll try to behave myself.
Well, probably mostly. And definitely safely, if anything.

Noisy, Public Sex

We are having a veritable heat wave!  Went well into the 60's today.  Glorious!  And, after some rough winter, you know what that brings out . . . .

The damn frogs!  My housemates have a lovely, good-sized pond in the front yard.  Now, at this moment, as I write this, there must be fifty frogs who have shown up, (seemingly out of nowhere) have loud sex.  The water will be clouded with semen before long.  Ugh.

Not that I'm opposed to loud, public displays of semen, but really. . . . .

Odd Bear in Silence

I'm still away from home, spending time in silence.  It's odd that I might enjoy this.  I'm very much gifted (or afflicted) [or both] with the Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.  I've not been too extreme in the hyperactivity part, but there have been evidences of that.  I just don't sit still that long, that well.

Except, or course, when I do.  There is something about contemplation that just gets to me.  Why on earth would this be something I could do:  sit.  In silence.  Still. (somewhat) focused.  For thirty minutes.  Yes.  Me.

Sparse, but comfortable

It is very strange to me.  And it feeds my soul.

On my trip down, a friend invited me to stay over.  It wasn't that far along my way, only about 30 miles, but it was a start, and a chance to visit, have supper, etc.  We had a great time.  Lots of etc., too.  That's another thing about me that seems strange.  I so very enjoyed the etc., and I'm so very much enjoying my time in silence.  I suppose it could be a sign of some sort of a maturity that the sacred and sexual parts of my life seem to blend, to meld, to work together, and not at odds.  It just seems like the most natural thing.

I'm odd that way.  Maybe, not so odd.

Into Silence

OK, so, I'm in this strange kind of job, you know?  Really.  It's just different from what most people do.  Unexpected for a gay man, who's been divorced.  Just not what you'd think.

And, it can be a very draining profession.  Dealing with a many needs, on many levels, in many ways; and there is seldom a dull moment.  Long days; sometimes long nights; always weekends.  So, every now and then, one has to get away.  Way away (sort of).

Having no money, there are some resources upon which I may draw for away time that is work related.  No, it's not a convention in Las Vegas.  It's a retreat.  A real retreat; an old-fashioned retreat. 

Silence.

I'm leaving today for about 3 days of silence with a bunch of folk who live in community, and don't talk.  Meals, prayers, silence.  right now, it sounds like heaven to me!  I am really excited.

On the way, I'll stop over for a night with a friend.  That part of the trip won't be silent.  But there may be parts of it where I will be unable to talk.

A film maker did a documentary on a group of silent folk called Into Great Silence.  I recommend it.  I'll be with Trappists, though, not Carthusians, if you care to know!

I will be writing some but not sure if I'll have Internet connection.  Maybe I'll post something if so inclined.  No TV, no chatting, no noise.  Long walks, some books to read.  Silence.

I am so gonna love this.

Gleeful

I have to admit that I've never watched Glee.  Until Saturday night.  The Oxygen network was having a night of back-to-back episodes of Glee.

Some of it is really over the top, corny, just-too-much.  But as a gay man who loves music, dance, and theater, what can I say.  But, I was so impressed with the wonderful way it addressed being gay, being bullied, being accepted, being supported.  I know; it's television, not real life.

I've just seen part of three episodes.  And I cried. (Don't I always!)  Does it really happen that way?  No.  Television has little relationship to reality, even though we think it should (?) just because it looks like "reality." But maybe it shapes a few people.  Maybe it will make a difference.

In one episode, the bully is (finally) confronted by the gay kid. (I can't remember all the characters names).  The big, mean, football player bully is shocked at being confronted.  He's caught off guard.  His true colors emerge, but only for a second.  The big, beefy football player leans over and kisses the gay kid.  OMG.  It's not just the twinky femme guy, but maybe the beefy footballer, too?

Too simple, too TV? Maybe.  But when we see it as art, as theater, as story, maybe it can tell us something else.  Isn't that why we like plays, and art, and literature?  Stories can tell us the Truth in ways we would not otherwise get it.  As Picasso said, "Art is the lie that tells us the truth."  I hope someone will get some truth from it.

Up to my ears

The last few weeks have been as hectic as I can remember.  And, I'm not firing on all cylinders.  Winter blues and workplace blues have set in, and that's made the demands of the week even tougher.  But, I abide, and we move through it.

The last two weekends have been taken up with work stuff.  And, there have been some emotionally trying, draining moments.  One was losing a colleague whom I wish I'd gotten to know better.  Too late now.

It leads me to think on how I keep myself so distant from folk.  The walls are still there.  And, I'm not sure how to "be" around straight people - mainly straight men.  I've kept myself at a distance from most men, over the years, because I was afraid someone would figure me out.  And I hadn't quite figured me out yet.  Silly.

It will take time, practice, patience, etc.  Ugh.

Of course, I'd like to get to know more gay men, too.  Mr. Right, where are you?

Privacy and Reality: but The Bear Abides

For reasons various and sundry, I've had to change my profile.  The old one is gone (sort of) and there are new "contributors" on my blog.  Well, they are really just me.  I've moved my blog to a new . . . . . .something.

As I am out at work and need to be seen in the electronic community, I've had to do a few things to protect the privacy of my blog and such.  i don't want to stop blogging or delete my blog, or feel restrictive in what I can write.  So, if I've dissapeared as a 'follower' of you blog, know that i just might reappear later.

If this is confusing to you, it is more so for me.  The enduring electronic presence of me (or any of us) is a little scary.  Our words, images, statements, etc., have been captured electronically, and may remain in cyberspace forever and ever, and ever.

While I've done what I can to change some things, The Bear Abides.

This is a test

Really, it is. Don't worry. Just changing some things administrative.

Cheers.

Home again

My housemates are back from foreign travels.  It is good to have them home.  It's been lonely.

Snow is melting.  s l o w l y.  Life moves on.

Working in the non-profit sector has its interesting moments.  One odd thing is the 403b.  You may have a 401k,  but I have a 403b.  And they aren't the same.

For reasons to arcane and enigmatic, I cannot cash out my teeny tiny 403b that was going to pay my offspring's tuition this semester.  I am screwed.  Royally.

Somehow I will make it happen.  But today, I know not how.  Ugh.

On Christmas day (in the midst of a really big snow storm) my children, and their mom, and I went out to eat, as we've done every year for the past couple of decades.  Every Christmas.  Only two places have been so honored to host us on these occasions, one in the small town where we once lived, and the other where I (we all) now live.  Fancy.  Expensive.  Tradition!

The latter establishment has, in its expansive lobby, two huge fireplaces.  Really big.  The picture above tells it all.

Stay warm, friends.  Hope you've someone to stay warm with!  Cheers.

Again!

OK, I've had enough winter.  It is snowing again!  And it is bitter cold tonight.

Some snow-showers, some flurries, all right.  But this is a few more inches.  And not the kind I like!

Ugh.

And in other news . . . .

Well, there ain't much other news, this time.  Stay home, stay well, stay warm.

We Begin Again

Thomas Merton was a great spiritual writer of the 20th century.  Maybe the greatest, at least from a Christian perspective; but his work really crosses a lot of boundaries.  Many saw him as a great spiritual "guru" of a sort.  But  he never saw himself that way.  One of my favorite quotes from him is, "Surely, we are all beginners."

It is comforting, helpful, refreshing, and hopeful for me to hear such words from such a one as Thomas Merton!  There's hope for me yet!  I'm beginning so many things.  I'm beginning to discover "me."

Christmas Day Snowstorm 2010

Coming out, even to myself, at such a late age has given me the advantage of a more supportive environment.  The world has changed so much from my early days of rejecting the possibility that i might be gay.  No.  Not me.  Couldn't be.  And that's be 30+ years ago.  Denial.  Hiding.  I didn't even know what closet I was in.

Now. Now is so different.  And out feels so good.

And in other news . . . . 

My housemates (hosts, really) are gone till mid-January.  So if you want to come visit, there's room amongst the cats.  Not the prettiest time to visit my neck of the woods, but not so bad, either.  A foot of snow has melted already, and there is promise of some warmer temps and sun.  Has been a bit lonely around the house.  I've come to appreciate anew the gracious hospitality I'm offered with C & S.  It's nice to have some folk to come home to.

I've taken a few tests of late.  Tests that have raised my anxiety greatly!  Fear has been rampant.  But I took the bull by the proverbial horns and got it over with.  Thank you God!  The anxiety built up over the "grading process" was more than I'd admit to.  The major test was a quick one, resulting in nothing to write home about.  And that's a very good thing.  You get what i'm talking about (and email me if you don't).  A good way to start the new year.

After it all, I was really emotionally over wrought.  And I did something that is a bit difficult for me:  I called a friend and said, "I need some hugs."  And, God bless him, he was there for me.  Just hugs, and dinner, and talking.  Nothing more.  I didn't need advice or solutions, or sex - just a friend.  I'm learning to make friends.  Up close and in person.  Surely, we are all beginners.

And, I finally made an appointment to have my eyes checked.  It has been a while!  But insurance has changed so that I can afford it!  And my eyes are very healthy, but very different!  I mean the prescription on the lenses will be totally different.  I will be able to see well again!(No, I still won't be able to see straight).  It's really a minor thing in some ways, but it's been driving me batty!

We begin again.  We start over.  It's not back where we were, it's someplace new.  But we begin it again, nonetheless.

And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding, near the end of the poem.  It's one of Eliot's Four Quartets.