Holy Week at Christmas

Even though it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, I'm feeling more like Holy Week.

This is my last Christmas with my family. It seems that living separately may come very soon after the first of the year. Possibility of "job transfer" is looking good. It would be close enough, yet separate.

I am mourning the loss of my family and things the way they "have been." And yet, I do not fear the future as much as I might. Yes, there is fear there. There will be a lot of unknowns. But there is hope.

It is like living through Holy Week: the week before Easter Day. The week that leads up to Good Friday and being placed in the tomb. People thing that Holy Week ends with Easter and resurrection. Actually, Holy Week simply ends with death and the tomb.

Yes, we "know" Easter will come. We believe that resurrection will happen. But first we must make last journeys, east last meals, and then die.

Life as I have known it, the closet as I have furnished it is dying. While there is rejoicing in leaving the closet, there is fear of the unknown to come, and sadness of leaving the Known behind.

Mixed feelings. Sadness and Hope. Endings that await a new beginning.

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards
Bethlehem to be born

Wm. Butler Yeats

Help me out here

I have had lots of comments on my last post. Some supportive, some instructive, some directive.

Michael (of Someone is Rocking My Dreamboat), though our ages are the same, you have had far more years of experience being out than I have. And from your comments, perhaps you've shown far more courage than I have yet to show. So, you have garnered more experience and more wisdom that I have. Our journeys are not the same.

When I generalize my personal experience, assuming it should be the same as everyone else's, it becomes easier to dismiss others. Judgment is easier than kindness.

Cheers, Joe.

Prayerfully pissed

Over a month ago, Presbyterian Pastor Brent Dugan committed suicide. I didn't know him at all. Never heard of him. Till now. But I am praying for the repose of his soul.

Apparently a television station was going to air some "expose'" on him. Somehow, they had information (maybe some footage?) of him in an "adult bookstore." It seems that maybe he was, as am I, gay, and in the closet. And they were going to expose him. I guess he felt all was lost, no where to turn. Nothing to do. Would the whole of his ministry be down the drain?

He killed himself. Sadly, that may be the thing for which he will be remembered. SO many of us know what that darkness feels like. No way out. Only abject humiliation and ruin. And we cannot bear to see all we have worked for, done, achieved, prayed, and wept over going down in ruin with our "reputations." It is a lonely place. No light, at all.

I am so angry right now I could spit. I am angry at the religious abuse that the Church puts on so many. And I am angry at those who sit by and let it pass. Too many good men and women, and youth have found no way to face into a darkness created by others, not by God.

This all tests my faith in the Church, that's fer damn sure. But it does not really shake my faith in God, who is so far beyond "the Church." Maybe farther and further than ever, these days. Not distant from us, but just from the damn institutions that presume to speak in God's name.

I am pissed, but not at Brent Dugan. I weep and pray for him. Requiescat in pace, dear brother. Rest in the arms of the One who loves you.

The Twilight Zone

Time marches on. And so do the events of my life, leading toward the closet door -- opening outward, that is. It seems that the opportunity of a job transfer to a nearby town is a real possibility. Nothing definite, but things are looking gracefully good. I'm not counting any chickens, yet, but I am doing what I can to help it happen.

My part in this opportunity is to update resume' and the "industry deployment form" that is used for my "company." It is, of course, a rather outdated version of computer dating. A real booger of a program that is NOT user friendly. Ah, the wonders of the not-for-profit world.

My wife is being more supportive and helpful than I could ever have hoped or imagined. She did career counseling for a time, and she's quite good with resume' writing. So, here she is, helping me prepare the tools so I can leave her. And, she is doing it with such grace and kindness. What a woman! I am so thankful for her, really.

This is all so much like life in the Twilight Zone! [Cue eerie music - enter Rod Serling]. It is hard for me to fathom that all this is really happening. Even though there is a big part of me that rejoices in the prospect of being able to live the truth of who I am, there is still a huge draw to returning to the "normalcy" of what was. It sure looked good, even though it was killing me on the inside.

Of course, even when the move comes (sooner or later) I will have to remain a bit "closeted." I cannot come out in the open completely because of the job. So what if someone flat-out asks me, "Well, are you gay?" I'm not sure how I will dodge the question. God knows, I don't want to. But I will probably have to find some innocuous enough answer that will hearken back to "don't ask, don't tell." You know, it wasn't the Clinton administration that thought that up, it was the Church - centuries ago!

Now we plunge toward Christmas. Happy Holidays, everyone! Arrrggghhh. Christmas has always been a difficult holiday for me; last year was better than most. And, this year feels rather good, so far. Except for the fact that I know it will be my last one with my family in its present configuration.

What will the future be like? Sticking to the present seems a better tack, right now. Preparing as I can, but living as I am.

Cheers, dears.

Weird Thanks

Ah, we move toward the holiday season! Time with family and friends . . . . . . well, with family, anyway. This will be a truly weird year for me.

My wife and I have resigned ourselves to my moving out after the first of the year. No time-table has been set, and there is the possibility of my being able to engineer a job transfer to a nearby town. That would leave me close enough to stay in touch but living on my own. With a high school sophomore in the house, I want to be very close and involved.

For the last ten years, my family (wife, kids) have gathered with my wife's family for the holiday. It has been an important family time and a wonderful experience. I trust this year will be no different. But this will, most likely, be my last year with them. My last year in my present "role", anyway.

This is all so weird. I started this post before the holiday, and now it is the day after. More than ever, I have that feeling of "not fitting in."

From a few posts back: In an earlier post, I wrote about wanting to be out and to be with other gay men. Comments from several folk gave gentle admonishment about segregating myself from the straight world. They were so right. Now, with all of this newness and the glow of a familiarity that seems so unfamiliar, I want to "immerse" myself in "gay". When I come to my senses a bit more, I know in my soul that gathering with a whole, diverse, welcoming, caring, challenging community of folk is what I long for most.

I am very thankful for so many things. Particularly, I want to thank so many of you who have supported me in this journey. The alone-ness isn't so lonely. Thank you!

Cheers, dears, Joe.

New looks

Well, I have made the conversion to the new Blogger. Or is it still Blogger Beta? Have we alpha-ed yet? Whatever.

Big changes, happenings, events for me, or at least the beginnings of some. More later.

Cheers. Joe.

Dreams

The revelations of the sordid lives of the Rev. Ted Haggard and Rep. Foley are sad to me. Even though they show up the hypocrisy of some asshole conservatives, they certainly don't show the gay world in the best light. A pedophile and involvement with a prostitute. Not things I want folk to point to in the gay community. Yes, they are in all communities, but it just makes finger pointing all the easier.

And, I hate to see anyone humiliated (well, almost anyone). Foley's humiliation ain't such a big deal to me, but the thing with Ted Haggard will backfire. People will say he was lured into it. And, the way he has described himself since admitting "wrong" is soooo full of self-hate. I know that feeling, and am sooooo glad to be ridding myself of it. I pray that he will be able to come out, but don't hold out much hope.

Why is the Church such a place of hatred, sometimes. What part is it of "love your neighbor as yourself" or "love your enemies, and bless those who curse you," that folk don't get? On occasion, I want to chunk Church, just give it up.

And yet, it draws me back. I've never confused God with the institution. But it is the institution that carries on the worship that nurtures my soul. I've tried to get God to chunk me, but God never has. God persists in loving me. Lost as I may feel, I don't want to turn anywhere else.

I dream of someday, somehow, someway, a place and ability to minister and be ministered to within the gay community, as a gay man. I wonder what God has in mind for me as I try to discern next steps. I want to offer love, and hope, and (especially) a sense of community and welcome to those who are so disenfranchised from the Church, from God, from society.

I'm dreaming of the future. That's a good thing.

Cheers, dears, Joe 

Unhurried pace, Deliberate speed

I've always liked roller coasters. Riding the real kind is so much fun. Riding the emotional ones is the pits. It's been like that, emotionally. My energy level and such are up today, feeling good, feeling hopeful. But a few days ago, it was another story.

It seems I always pull out of it, and that good. I wish I didn't have to pull out of so much.

I'm sure whoever may read this thing may have noted my picture on the last post and that I have removed it. Mainly, I deleted it for "security." I long to be very open, out, and about; but that ain't the case yet. I want to be in control of the outing process, as much as I can. I don't want it to control me, because so much damage could be done to ones I love.

And, I had a bit of a smirk on my face that didn't jive with the intent of that posting. I have nothing to smirk about in the changing of my relationship with my wife. While I am relieved that she has made this shift in her thinking, I can't say I'm "happy" about it all. There is still that part of me that wants to wake up and have it all be a bad dream.

And then there is the other part that wants to wake up and have the whole outing process over with. I can't pretend to go back in the closet. And I could really out myself in a big way. But that would be just as damaging and false as pretending it wasn't there.

Slowly, surely, onward we journey

But with unhurrying chase
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy . . .

(from "The Hound of Heaven" by Francis Thompson)

Not If, but When

My week away had several benefits, one of which was some time apart for my wife and me. We do love each other, and that makes it all the more painful trying to figure this out. But, there are some things we simply cannot think our way through. Certain things just cannot be “figured out.” On occasion they must be “lived into.”

So it is with our relationship, I think. I so wish that all of me could love her the way most of me already does. If our marriage were disastrous, coming to terms with separation would be (somehow) “easier.” (Or would it? I can deal with my own pain; it’s the pain of others that drives me to my knees).

But our time apart helped my wife, particularly. She told me the other night that a shift has happened for her. Simply put, I believe that she understands (as best she can) that I am different. I am gay, and there is no getting around that, no getting over it, no working through it, and no living with it together. She realizes that we are talking separation/divorce. It is no longer of question of if, but when.

Truth sets free. Maybe the only thing that sets us free. And the realization of this truth, for both of us, liberated us to talk, to express affection for one another, and to begin thinking about what next.

Still, there is far to go. Much to be done. Issues/concerns/challenges to be faced. But now I have hope. Hope. The journey continues.

Well, Blogger doesn't seem to want me to add pictures using Blogger, but it seems to work through Picasa, so here is the picture that was supposed to go with the last post. Cheers, dears.