So I have this problem…I can’t follow my own orders…I’m stubborn even with myself. June is Pride month and so I want to write about it but I haven’t yet…because other things have been on my mind. Apparently I can only write about the most pressing thing on my mind at the time…it can make it hard to finish my writing because my mind has a lot pressing on it.

I’ve been told that I am too sensitive throughout my life…and so I decided to look it up. The dictionary defines sensitivity as “an awareness or understanding of the feelings of other people.” Now I wonder can anyone ever be too sensitive? Our world is definitely not suffering from people being too aware of or too understanding of the feelings of others. Perhaps this is especially true for members of the LGBTQ+ community. Hate crimes are at an all time high in the LGBTQ+ community, especially the trans community. Hate crimes are disproportionately high in this community…people are seeking us out to harm or kill us. Seriously? I cannot believe I am writing that sentence in this country in 2022! I feel sick and I feel hunted. Remember Pulse nightclub in Orlando? A man sought out members of the LGBTQ+ community to kill at a gay nightclub. Just last week a large group of white supremacists (Patriot Front) were arrested before they could create a riot at a gay pride event in Idaho. These men were dressed in riot gear with shields and had a smoke grenade. We don’t even know the full extent of what they were planning…and fortunately we didn’t have to find out…this time.

The problem with being hunted is that the hunt is always on and nowhere feels safe. Hunters hunt to dominate, control, and have authority over whatever is hunted. That attitude is at the core of so much of the hatred in our country right now. White supremacist’s possess that attitude and they advocate for their belief of the supremacy of a particular group, the white race. Their message is that the white race is supreme and all other races or any marginalized people, such as the LGBTQ+ community, are less than them…subhuman in a word.

Probably 20 years ago I was on the board of the Interfaith Alliance in Denver. At one of the meetings we had broken up into groups and the pastor of the church I attended was with me. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about but I shared that in every situation, and with every person I meet, I have to decide whether I will let them know that I’m gay. He asked me if that was really true and it was…it still is. I hoped after marriage equality that I wouldn’t feel that way anymore, but I do, especially now. Our country is in a crazy return to the past…the homophonic, racist, misogynistic past.

It’s a lot of pressure and stress to guard who you are until you decide you’re safe to be out…and pray you aren’t wrong. My wife and I just moved to Florida, the capital of openness and equality…right? Meeting new people and being in an unfamiliar place adds to the stress, trying to guage the safety of every situation. I am not a closeted person but I am careful. I am aware that there are people in this country who think I should not be allowed to live. There are countries where I could be executed just for being gay and ours, it has been suggested, should be one of them. That is unfucking-believable! Now I would love to just say “fuck it, I give up” but I love my wife, my family, our friends and don’t want any of them in danger…and I remember Pulse nightclub all the time…so “fuck it” doesn’t work for me.

All of that being said, I am very proud to be gay. I am proud of my wife and the life we have built together. I am proud of my family. I think sometimes people think that gay people would choose not to be gay if they could. I would not. I am proud to be gay and I am happy to be gay. I would not change my gayness for anything. I am a super happy gay! So Pride month is a real thing and a important time to remind myself how happy I am being gay and to let others know I am proud…and there’s the rub…to be out and proud and safe too…or at least not reckless. To be who I am but to follow my gut and my intuition when something doesn’t feel right or someone doesn’t feel safe. The danger in remaining unseen is that no one’s mind gets expanded, no one’s views are challenged, no one learns, no one changes…and then I am hunted forever…out of fear…ignorance…rigidity…fear.

When I first came out I had a best friend and we had been close friends for about 8 years. We were out to dinner for my birthday when she told me that she was angry with me for “choosing” to be gay. I asked her when she had chosen to be straight. She didn’t answer and we weren’t friends anymore. I think she absolutely knew she didn’t make that choice and neither did I. I think the real issue started a couple weeks before our dinner. At the time, I was 33, divorced, with 3 small children and I was wondering if there would be a woman out there who would want to share her life with me. She said I would find someone because “it would be easy to fall in love with you.” I think that was the beginning of the end of our relationship. The moment she acknowledged she could love a woman, me anyway, it was that vulnerability that she couldn’t tolerate. People who fight against the LGBTQ+ community the fiercest are the people who have been with someone of the same sex or they know they could be…or they want to be or they wish they felt like they could be in a same sex relationship. Her fear was of herself, not of me. People’s real fear is of who they are, not who I am.

Let’s be real…sometimes I want to say “fuck it” to the sense of responsibility I feel to be seen and heard and understood. To help people expand their thinking and grow in acceptance…I’m 62 and it’s easy to think “fuck it” let the young lesbians deal with all this…but aren’t we all needed? The sensitive ones, the outspoken, the hopeful, the angry, the frightened, the young and the old. Don’t we all have so much to teach each other? People just need a willingness to listen…and that means we have to speak up, and keep talking. Keep working…keep trying. Keep believing that things can change…people can change.

So happy Pride! Be out, be proud…be safe. And let’s all try and be overly sensitive…it could only help.

A pre-blog message….I know we all feel pressed for time depending on the circumstances of our life or our day. Sometimes I think about listening to a podcast or reading blogs but I don’t have an hour…so that led me to create “Under 10.” Sometimes we need advice, some insight, understanding, to feel heard….we don’t want to be alone…and we want to know others share our struggles and concerns. We need a pack, a tribe…a belonging.

What if you could get that in Under 10 minutes? I don’t have an hour but I have 10 minutes….on the way to the doctor or grocery store or picking up kids from school. My blog and podcast are designed to connect with you for 10 minutes or longer, but 10 is all the time you need…10 minutes to feel…whatever you need to feel…and know that you are heard and understood. I know you’re hurting, maybe confused…you’re sad, angry, hopeless, feeling lost, or maybe found. That’s the new format and I know we can do a lot in Under 10…let’s start with this blog I entitled…

“Some Messy Ass World”

I’ve been working on a blog about Ash Wednesday, which I started almost three weeks ago when Lent started….clearly I’m on the struggle bus with it.. I generally have lots of ideas to write about..lists of ideas…the problem comes when it’s time to write and there’s big news in the world that draws my attention away. Such as…Ukraine. Russia. WTF! What is happening in the world and what is Russia thinking? Maybe no one knows. The news from Ukraine is devastating and the images of bombed buildings and people lying dead on the street are unpalatable. The world seems completely out of control. I find that I can only watch or listen to small bits of news before I sink into a dark abyss. I can’t NOT watch or listen because it’s too important…too devastating. What kind of member of the human race am I if I turn my back to, and my mind off from, the acts of war committed by Russia against Ukraine? I would not be a human being that I could live with…thats for sure.

Glennon Doyle has said, (this is my version of what she said), that she’s not too sensitive…she’s a deeply feeling person in a messy world…me too. I watch the news and can’t eat because I’m sick to my stomach. What kind of person bombs apartment buildings and a children’s hospital and maternity ward? I won’t easily forget the very pregnant mother I saw being carried out on a stretcher…learning later that she had died. She and her baby…when she found out her baby was dying she died too. There are mass graves because so many have died, and are dying, as the bombing continues. There are dead bodies on the street…men, women, and children. Who bombs children? As I ask that question I realize that we have done that…the United States has done that…has bombed areas where there were innocent woman and children. We say it was “collateral damage”…the unintended consequences of war. But bombs are not unintended or accidental…they are very intentional acts of war.

What is happening to make one nation think they can take the land of another nation? Why does any one nation or people decide they know best how another country should be run? We’ve helped remove people from office in other parts of the world….we decided that would be best, like Saddam Hussein. Now, before anyone blows a gasket, I understand that there are people who have done horrific, unspeakable things to their own people throughout history.

When people who had been enslaved in this country were freed they were given land so they could make a living and feed their families…it wasn’t much, but it was something acknowledging their brutal mistreatment. Then we took it back…took all of it back, why?…because we wanted it…so we took it. We took this land from Native Americans. We slaughtered men, women, and children. Women and children were stolen and made the property of white people. Now the have reservations…I’m sure they feel whole from that. Why would I think that my beliefs should be the standard for what everyone else should think? Why are we so afraid of differences? We say we celebrate diversity but really I think we crush it and avoid it…we try and think it out of existence.

I think Einstein said that doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result is the definition of insanity….well we’re super crazy! WWI, WWII, Hitler, concentration camps, Jewish people killed by the hundreds of thousands, gay people rounded up and murdered, Japanese internment camps, Idi Amin, Vietnam, Korea, Desert Storm, Afghanistan, Iraq, famine, starvation, malnutrition, school shootings, police shootings, murders, sexual assaults, poverty, homelessness…the list goes on and on…and not just us, it’s all over the world. The world has lost its collective mind.

Two of my teenage grandchildren asked me when I became so “peaceful” and said I was like Buddha…not even gonna touch the flaws in that comparison. I told them that I used to have a really quick and horrible temper…sometimes I still do. I told them about a “fight” I had in high school. (I use quotation marks with “fight” because that’s what they do…bunch of smart asses). A girl, who was mad at me from calling a foul on her in PE class, walked by me at my locker and kicked me. I told her not to do it again, so of course she immediately did. I grabbed the neck of her shirt and pushed her into an open locker…now I had no plan past that. As I was holding her against the locker, she punched me in the jaw. Now for the big climax…what did I do? I walked away and went to class…Spanish as I recall. My grandchildren laughed at my “fight” and told me, “Nana that’s not a fight. You left!” Of course I did, I’m not stupid. Although I will say that girl, Ann Vogel, did not come back to her locker the rest of the day and she was never mean to me again. Maybe she scared herself as much as she scared me.

How can the world not be crazy when WE are crazy? We do crazy shit like fighting, shooting, arming ourselves for conflict just to walk down the street. When did we decide to shoot people instead of walking away…or talking to them? When did we decide that if we don’t like you we’ll just kill you? To go into a nightclub and execute members of the LGBTQ+ community? To go into a high school, middle school, an elementary school and slaughter people? To run over or brutally beat people for peacefully protesting?

When did we decide that “our way” was right and everyone else was wrong? How do churches decide they have the authority to dispense “the” truth, which is just what they believe…instructing us about what God thinks and wants? Seems pretty clear from all sources and traditions that God wants us to love and care for each other…Shouldn’t it be simple?

So many have come before us to show us another way…a better way. A way not based on any one religion or ideology but on love…love, kindness, compassion…seeing the basic goodness in people. How far from your own basic goodness do you need to be to bomb people’s homes…hospitals…to bomb pregnant women and children? How could we be that far away…losing touch completely…with our own basic goodness? How do we rationalize that?

All these questions and not one damn answer….I just don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows.
But then…there’s Gandhi…”an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.” HH the Dalai Lama…”where ignorance is our master, there is no possibility of peace” and “The way to change others’ minds is with affection, and not anger.” Jesus…”a new commandment I give you: Love one another.” Buddha…”with our thoughts we create the world”…”in this world hate never dispelled hate, only love can dispel hate.” Muhammad…”none of you truly believes until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself.” Martin Luther King…”I have decided to to stick to love…hate is too great a burden to bear.”

Tomorrow is the 1 year anniversary of the shooting at our King Soopers here in Boulder. A man just walked into the store at 2:30 pm and randomly began shooting people. Ten people were murdered that day. The store was closed for a year and reopened last month. It will close tomorrow in remembrance of those victims. When I heard what was happening last year, I remember hoping and praying that none of my grandchildren were there…that was my first thought…well, first after “what the fuck?!” It felt surreal. Once I knew my grandkids were okay, I set about making sure that all the people that I care about were safe….so many other people did that same search only the results for them were tragic. Who gets shot at the grocery store? Who gets bombed in a children’s and maternity hospital?

So many questions with no clear answers. I heard a Ukrainian journalist, Igor Novikov, on Deadline: White House the other day. He was talking about the war, his concerns for the safety of his family and how overwhelming the entire situation is. Then he said “you can only look at so many pictures of dead children before you realize you can’t do anything about it.” That statement made me want to scream, cry, and throw up. I want to do something about it…I need to because this is intolerable.

The helplessness we feel is hard to stomach…it’s not a feeling that we are comfortable feeling or sitting with. We want it to go away. That desire to be comfortable again can lead us to many misguided and sometimes tragic decisions….those choices may end our suffering for a moment but in the end make everything worse…we get angry in traffic, cut someone off, cause an accident…can’t tolerate a relationship ending so we destroy property or physically harm the person we blame for our pain…cheat at school, at sports, in a relationship and end up with devastating, life altering consequences for yourself and others…we don’t like a particular group of people…we don’t like how they look, what they believe, who they love…we don’t like the way they are “different” than us and so we take violent action against them and destroy many lives, including our own.

This pain, this helplessness and lack of control, that we feel we can’t bear, is the very thing that transforms us…makes us kinder, more compassionate, more accepting and loving…softer. Being softer feels horrible right now…it feels dangerous.

Now to be real…it will never be okay, in any world, to have children dying in war zones or in buildings targeted for bombs. That will never feel okay because it isn’t ok and never can be. I have questions…we have questions that may never be answered…there is no adequate explanation that can reassure us about what is happening right now…there is no reassurance.

That’s a lot in Under 10….a lot of questions…discomfort…fear…guilt…sadness…uncertainty…and the only thing we can do, the only healthy thing we can do is feel all the feelings and allow them to change, soften, and expand us…so we can be more and do better…so we can become the change we want to see in the world…become the kindness, compassion, and love we want to see and feel.

So let’s be real…all I can say is, I don’t know…I can’t explain what’s happening in the world or in this country. I don’t know if anyone can…not really. I do know one thing, what doesn’t kill us can transform us and make us kinder…more compassionate…softer, in all the ways we need…if we let it.

Sit with that.

Celebrating the new year has always been a funny thing to me…stay up till midnight, yell, “Happy New Year!” and go to bed…seems anticlimactic…perhaps it’s me that’s anticlimactic.  Last year, at midnight, we yelled “Jumanji!” so that we could get out of this horrible game that we seem to be in…with so much death and loss.  That didn’t work…2021 was not my favorite year.  There were some real high points, points of reconnection and healing, but some real low ones too.  So this year we decided to eat 12 grapes at midnight, in the first minute, and to say a wish for each month of the year.  Apparently this is done in Spain or South America or somewhere I can’t remember.  My sister had mentioned it to me and I thought she was ringing in the year with grapes and wishes…I think we should have used champagne instead of grapes…we would have been happier.  So I prepared. I got all my wishes written down and we each had a bag with 12 grapes…12 of the biggest grapes I’ve ever seen.  It’s also important to note that the stuff we read about this said that you have to do this all in the first minute of the new year or you won’t have good luck you’ll have misfortune…that’s a lot of pressure.

We counted down and started shoving grapes in our mouths.  I’d glance at my wish and eat a grape…glance and eat…barely glance and eat…what list? and eat.  As the minute was coming to an end my wife told me she still had grapes…she had 5 grapes…what had she been doing for 60 seconds?  Jesus!  So I reached over and grabbed 4 more grapes and shoved them in my mouth.  When the minute ended I casually walked back to the bathroom sure I was going to vomit all of my good fortune into the toilet.  

So it turns out you cannot eat a grape every 5 seconds, at least not the jumbo ones we had, without feeling very sick.  It also turns out that my sister was not telling me something she was going to do, she was just sharing interesting information…crap…no bonding over grapes for us.  And after the fact, of course, we read that you actually get 5 minutes to eat the grapes…that would have been leisurely, relaxed and without vomit. So now we know what we won’t be doing next year.  If I eat grapes in the future it’ll be in the form of champagne.

We’ve been having some crazy wind here in Boulder…gusts generally are 80-90 miles per hour but in the last few weeks gusts have been at 115 mph.  That’s the strength of a category 3 hurricane.  So Thursday, the 30th, we had these out of control winds.  Wind that pulled our wooden pergola apart and ripped the tree out of our front yard…pretty dramatic.  And with this out of control wind came grass fires.  Crazy, out of control, scare the shit out of you wildfires.  Fires that were started by downed power lines…they think.  These fires spread like crazy….you know that saying, “it spread like a wildfire” well that shit is true.  The wildfires were out of control and there was nothing the fire fighters could do.  There was no help from planes or helicopters dropping fire retardant or water…because nothing could fly.  Firefighters couldn’t use the hoses because of the wind and they were racing to get people out of danger because the fires were spreading so fast.  The fire jumped roads and spread randomly at incredible speeds. It felt like the wind and the fire were swirling in circles.  People had to be evacuated and some of them had only seconds to leave before the fire was on them.  We were in a pre-evacuation zone.  We could see the smoke from our backyard and watched it nervously all day…and went through all the states of contemplation…we don’t need to go, it’s still far away, maybe we should just get some things together, that looks worse, let’s just put all the stuff in the car so we’re ready, we need to go now!, ok I see it’s blowing away from us now…that’s exhausting.  I was nervous going to bed, although we left the car loaded.  The next morning I woke up early and thought the fire was right at our house…turns out it was the orange of a beautiful sunrise, not a catastrophic fire…that’ll wake you up fast.

So here we are…we had about a foot of snow on New Years Eve, high winds again the next day, and 7” of snow a couple days later….1000 homes destroyed…three people killed…businesses destroyed…and lifetimes of irreplaceable memories gone for good.

So let’s be real…this is not how I wanted 2021 to end and 2022 to begin…I’m not a big believer in the grapes…but I am a big believer in people…the basic goodness of people.  Everyone I know, from everywhere, checked in to see that we were ok.  People immediately donated money, clothes, food, places to stay.  Our neighbors lost power because of a downed power line.  Friday was the coldest temperatures we’ve had….6 degree low and 14 degree high…balmy for sure.  They stayed with us one night and we helped each other deal with the pain, fear, and loss. They were invited to stay longer but I understand wanting your own space and to make sure your house is safe when so many were not.  Now we didn’t do this because we’re extra special people…we did it because that’s what a community does…takes care of the other members of the community…we’re here for each other…we care for each other and we share the burden our neighbor bears.

Sometimes we lose sight of that…the community we all live in…multiple communities really; family, friends, neighbors, Boulder, Colorado, the United States, North America, earth…you get my point.  We tend to think of ourselves as individual planets orbiting by ourselves, caring only for ourselves and those closest to us…sometimes even that’s a struggle for us.  Look at masks…initially we wore them, not too much complaining, and now we have lawsuits over mask mandates…no one can tell us what to do right?!  My body, my choice…that argument is ironic huh?  You have a choice when we say so…whoever “we” is at the moment…otherwise you get no choice.  If you’re a woman, you have no right to control your own body…unless you don’t want to wear a mask or get vaccinated, and then no one can tell you what to do…and if you’re a man then no one ever gets to tell you what to do…that’s confusing to say the least.

A community takes care of its members, even if there is a personal cost for us, because it’s what is best for ALL of us.  I don’t wear a mask because of a mandate.  I wear one because of you.  I had Covid and never want to experience that again.  I am vaccinated and boosted.  I got vaccinated for you and I wear a mask for you too.  I wear it so you won’t experience what I did.  I’m vaccinated so you won’t get sick.  I wear a mask so your children won’t get sick or your elderly parents, or anyone you know with health issues.  I wear a mask and was vaccinated for you.  It’s time to show some gratitude by getting vaccinated and wearing a fucking mask!  The steps to get us out of this ongoing health crisis are so simple…get vaccinated, wash your hands, and wear a mask for fucks sake!  

So let’s be real…we are all part of a global community…a community threatened with extinction.  How do we care for one another?  Recycle everything you can, compost everything you can…make a goal of producing zero waste.  Buy less and waste less.  Don’t litter.  Don’t start fires.  Don’t hurt someone just because you can.  Be kind…even when it’s hard.  Practice the golden rule…treat others and the planet the way you want to be treated.  Give generously and anonymously…give for giving sake.  Believe the best about people and expect the best.  Remind yourself that the glass is half full.  Breathe. Smile more.  Laugh a lot…even at yourself.  Care about more than your own backyard.  Fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.  Stand up for what is right.  Protect children, animals, the earth…anyone you can.  Take care of children, animals, the earth, and anyone you can.  As Mr Rodgers would have said, be a good neighbor.

We are all interconnected.  What happens to one person happens to us all.  My actions or inactions affect more than me…they affect everyone.  So this year we have to decide what kind of people we want to be…the kind that take care of each other, or the kind who just do what’s best for themselves.  That should be a no brainer…so obvious…maybe not.  Let’s rethink our positions on issues and take a bigger view…bigger than me or my circle of people…a new, expanded, inclusive perspective.

Now wash your hands…get vaccinated…wear a damn mask…let’s take care of each other and rock 2022!

Happy New Year!

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Church is a funny thing…funny strange I think.  It can bring people together or divide them like nothing else…except maybe politics.  I was raised Catholic and then in my late teens and 20’s I ended up going to an evangelical free church.  Unfortunately it was pretty far right and I was taught a lot of misinformation…maybe just lies…I’m not sure.  I ended up getting kicked out of the church, that I had been part of for 8 years because I’m gay.  I was on the staff of the church as a counselor and when I told the pastors, both of whom were my friends, that I was gay they took the key to my office, told me they couldn’t recommend that anyone come to me for counseling anymore and told me I’d have to make an appointment to get my things out of my office.  I lost my job and all of my friends.  It was a difficult time for me.  I couldn’t go near a church for years and even the topic made me crazy angry.  I felt rejected like I never have before…rejected by my friends, well they were supposed to be my friends…and rejected by God because they told me I was rejected by God…an abomination.  That’s nice from friends..makes you feel all warm and fuzzy…such a mind fuck.

After much therapy, I moved past the church stuff and turned my attention to Buddhism.  When you aren’t sure what to do about God, a religion without one is very appealing…and Buddhism has always made sense to me…be compassionate, be mindful, get to know your own mind and how it works…simple…maybe not simple but clear.  

Recently I felt like I wanted to be back in touch with some of the traditions and rituals of Catholicism and I decided to go and talk to a priest.  I read that the Pope has said that people are born gay, it’s not a choice, and so gay people should be treated with love and kindness…hmmmm?  So armed with that information I met with a priest here in Boulder.  I was nervous so I was more blunt than normal…I usually take sort of a serpentine approach to things that hard for me to talk about, and this topic is a loaded one for me…but no serpentine here, not that day.  I pretty much said…in a run on, one breath sentence, “I was raised Catholic but went to a different church in my 20’s.  I was on staff and when I told them I was gay they kicked me out is the Catholic Church going to kick me out?” And breathe.

What followed was the priest trying to convince me that the church would not kick me out even though I would not be able to have communion or any sacrament, unless I ended my marriage and was never in a relationship again…hmmm?  I have a hard time understanding how my leaving my wife and destroying our family would be a positive thing in any church. So “the tendency” to be gay isn’t a sin but my marriage is.  He said I cannot experience any forgiveness because I’m married to a woman.  He said I’m a sinner just like he is but that’s not really true…I’m like a “super sinner” or something.  Being gay is part of who I am not a casual choice for this month.  The priest said it’s a sin for people who have a civil union too.  But that isn’t the same at all.  People can choose a civil union because they don’t want to get married in a church, but they aren’t going to marry someone of the same sex.  You don’t get to tell me that who I am is wrong or that I’m a sinner because of who I am…if God made me then I am not made wrong.  None of that is loving or kind and not at all accepting.  He kept saying I would not be kicked out but everything he said made it clear that I might as well be.  That would be more honest anyway…so hmmm…I can attend church but I can’t be forgiven because I am legally married to a woman.  I could be forgiven if I destroy the lives of my wife and my family…that seems super fucked up. 

I love Glennon Doyle and have read all of her books, and a few of them, more than once.  In Love Warrior she says, speaking to her Sunday School class, “I explain that my idea of heaven is the completion of the scattered puzzle – but I ask them not to wait for some other-worldly reunion.  I ask them to bring heaven to earth here and now – to invite the Kingdom of God today – by treating every last one of God’s people like kin.  I tell each of them, Be brave because you are a child of God.  Be kind because everyone else is too.  We belong to each other.”

Continuing, she says, “I teach them that they are loved by God – wildly, fiercely, gently, completely, without reservation.  I promise that there is nothing inside of them that they need to be ashamed of.  I become a megaphone for the still, small voice that was drowned out so early for me – the voice that says to each of us You! You are my beloved!  I made you and everything you have ever been or are or will become is already approved.  Nothing you can ever do will make me love you more, and nothing you can ever do will make me love you less.  That’s finished.  So stop hiding, stop waiting, and come now!  Every time I look into a ten-year-old’s eyes and promise her that she is good and loved so she never needs to go underneath to breathe, I know I am speaking to my ten-year-old self.  Don’t hide.  You are safe here.  You belong, precious one, after all.  Do not be afraid.  Remember” (p. 232).

Glennon Doyle is talking to her Sunday School class but I don’t hear it as a ten-year-old.  I hear it for my 30 year old self being kicked out of the church and being told that I was unacceptable to God…unlovable because I’m gay.  I remember the first time I read this passage thinking, “I want that.”  I wanted what she was talking about but I didn’t know how to get it.  Now I see it’s always been there I just let other people convince me it wasn’t for me…it belonged to them but not me…God belonged to them not me.

So let’s be real…The priest and the Catholic church say I am a sinner, supposedly just like everyone…except sin is something other people do but it’s who I am.  You commit a sin…I am a sin…hmmm?  We can disagree on things like politics, the weather, sports but no one gets to disagree with who I am…with my identity.  I don’t get to disagree with straight people being heterosexual and tell them we just have to “agree to disagree…but I still love you.”  I don’t think so…that’s not any form of love or any form of a relationship that I want, ever.  None of that even makes sense…how come people can’t see how ridiculous that argument is?  People can be mean when they feel threatened…I’m not sure why I’m a threat to anyone…maybe I don’t need to understand why.

But let’s be real…I made the mistake once of believing I was condemned because “Christian’s” said I was. I let them judge me and I believed them when they said I was unacceptable to God.  I can’t go back there.  I will not allow myself to be in that tortured place again…I am worth more than that…and I worked too hard, and spent too much on therapy, to allow myself to be treated as less than others.  All you LGBTQ people out there are also worth more than that…anyone who has ever been on the “outside” of whatever, is worth more than that.  No one gets to define who I am or quantify my value based on their beliefs and opinions.  That is NOT love!  And it doesn’t matter how many times you tell me you love me, I know you don’t.  You can deceive yourself but not me…not anymore.

In October I went to the Mayo Clinic for thetop expert opinion about my elbow and why it continues to hurt so much. I went at the recommendation of my PT and another orthopedic surgeon. I was nervous and torn between wanting to go and get help and being terrified of what they might say. The short version here is that there’s nothing to do. The words hit me like a punch in the gut. After the appointment I couldn’t talk about it and I didn’t want to. I was going to talk about it on a podcast but I couldn’t. I couldn’t talk without sobbing…that’s more vulnerable than I wanted to be. So I thought I’d write about it but no words came. I just felt broken. Finally the words of this poem came to me and I am finally ready to share what my Mayo Clinic visit was for me…how it impacted me…how I felt…how I feel. Although it may seem like a criticism of the doctor I met with it really isn’t meant to be. He was just giving his expert opinion…an opinion I asked for…although I hate when a doctor says, ”If you were my mom…” Seriously,. You are not young enough and i am definitely not old enough…just needed to clear that up. I call this poem “Anyone.”

Can you see me? 

Can anyone really see anyone?

Not the “should” of me

Not the “ought” of me

Just me

The scared, vulnerable 

Emotionally raw

Hurts to be touched

Skin feels painfully new…me

To be loved we have to be known

And to be known we have to be seen

Can I bear being known?

Being seen…exposed at all the most raw places

You enter quietly

Your smile is warm

Your eyes soft and kind

But you don’t see me

You look past me

Perhaps gazing at what comes next on your schedule

As the door closes I feel trapped

Trapped by inertia 

You causally deliver the news

There is nothing to be done

Any questions?

Just one…what the fuck!?

You don’t see me

Not really

You don’t see that you just broke my heart

Or the tears I struggle to contain

You don’t see the impact your words have

The distance traveled

My last hope packed with my suitcase

For 10 minutes of your time

Tests not even reviewed 

Why not save me the long trip

And the broken heart?

You deliver the same news

Multiple times a day…nothing can be done

This is routine for you

You’ve heard it all

Seen it all

Matter of fact

Next….please

This is nothing to you

Another day at the office

But for me

This is everything 

A last hope

A frantic prayer

A desperate plea

You don’t see me…

You just broke my heart

And you don’t even know

Do you see anything beyond

My “complex history”

Me….

The person behind the narrative and tests

Because I am here

I feel insignificant 

Dismissed

Is it too complex or irrelevant…to everyone but me

I want to feel good

You just assured me I won’t…

It’s not going to happen

Can anyone help me?

Can anyone see me?

Does anyone care?

You say I’ll get used to it

I’ll manage…really?

For all practical purposes 

I’ve lost my arm

Is that understood?

Why can’t anyone see me?

Is there anyone?

Please I need help…someone

Anyone

The shock has worn off

And my emotions want to breathe

To feel it all…let it surface

Probably erupt 

Even though I don’t like to feel it all

I want it all numb

My body

My mind

My spirit

Mostly my spirit…because it’s crushed

If I don’t feel anything

I’ll miss everything…pain…and joy

Everything 

I still struggle

Still not an obvious choice

But I dip my toe in and try…I feel 

Stuck

Stranded

Alone

Trapped

No one to rescue me

To fix this…fix me

Anyone?

Send me someone

Anyone

Anyone at all?

Nope…no one

The Olympics are one of my favorite things, especially in summer.  When I was a pre-teen, I wanted to be a professional basketball player and an Olympic swimmer…there was no WNBA back then and no women’s basketball in the Olympics so my options were limited. My 12 year old self had a crush on Shirley Babashoff, a hot, young, US swimmer , in 1972.  I’m going to quickly acknowledge that I was not good enough at either sport to be a pro or an Olympian but I sure did dream…a lot.  If just dreaming was enough I would have been an Olympic gold medalist and a Milwaukee Buck. 

Aside from Tokyo having record numbers of COVID cases and no spectators allowed, the biggest news has been Simone Biles…although Katie Ledecky is now the most decorated female Olympic swimmer of all time.  Simone Biles is 24 and already the greatest gymnast of all time…24!  And then she struggled…and struggled some more…and pulled out…and then the backlash.  The cries that she let her team and her country down, that she just quit, didn’t really try…all because she was worried about her mental health and her safety.  Naomi Osaka dropped out of a grand slam tennis tournament for the same reason and she was criticized as well.  Why aren’t they stronger?  Why can’t they set their own needs aside for the good of the team?  Muscling through will be the best thing for her…..whoever “her” is at that moment.

Do we really see women as weak?  We can’t possibly be that ignorant or arrogant, can we?   The gender that produces human beings while at the same time participating at the highest level of sports?  I’d like to see a man do that, and not bitch about it.  Are we really that blind and unaware?  The lack of support for female athletes (and really for women) makes me think they’re lucky they aren’t forced to compete in their sport with a baby strapped to their back.  

A few years ago I read an interview with Jason Garrett, the then coach of the Dallas Cowboys.  He was being asked questions about an injured player who continued to play despite a broken bone.  After I read that I wrote a Poem called,  The Strongest Person I Know.  

Playing football with a broken bone

Elicits the response…

“He’s the strongest person I know”

I want to be the strongest person you know

Doesn’t complain

Copes with anything

Plays through the pain

Always finds the positive

Pushes forward no matter what

No sign of weakness

No pain no gain…right?

The strongest person

Doesn’t feel

Doesn’t allow

Doesn’t sit with anything…no time

Must keep moving…distracting

Too many unfelt

Unexperienced

Unrecognizable emotions

Can’t be the strongest person

And be present with pain

With disappointment, confusion

With grief, gut wrenching sadness

The strongest person doesn’t get lost

In my mind it’s all or nothing

The strongest…or the weakest

No room for anything in between

This won’t stop him

He’ll be back

She never quits

Nothing will stop her

She will always push, always do, always be a winner….

Is there a different perspective?

A bigger view…

The strongest person I know

Nothing will stop her…from sitting

She’ll never quit…being with her feelings

This won’t stop her…from being present

Even though it’s tremendously painful

The strongest person I know

Is content to be who she is

Fully human and frightened

She’s afraid but she stays

She’s confused but she stays

Feels lost but she stays…no excuses

She’s fearless

She’s the strongest person I know

Why do we have such messed up ideas of strength?  I’m not sure where they come from…well we do value white males more than anyone else…so there’s that.  I think women are judged by what people think a man would do in the same situation…why can’t she be more like a man?  That may not be said out loud but we can hear it in the critiques, in the judgments…but we never say we think a man should be like a woman…that’s so offensive to them.  A man being like a woman would mean that you’re gay, right? Isn’t that what we think and the assumption we make? You play like a girl.  The mere innuendo is an insult.

Where did we get all these biases that we seem to have?  And it’s not just men.  It’s woman as well…there are many women who think that men are superior and that women should defer to them.  Some of those views I blame on religion.  I don’t believe in any way that women are inferior to men…different yes (thank god) but not inferior.  Bible verses that get taken out of context allow men to control women…submission applied generously to women but never men.

Why are we reluctant to talk about our mental health or to ask for help?  I think mental health issues are seen as weakness…as if you’re weak if you’re depressed or anxious…as if COVID isn’t enough of a reason to be depressed and anxious. Mental illness gets linked with homicides and suicides, just think about school and workplace shootings..  Why don’t we see the ability to know ourselves and communicate honestly about our struggles the greatest strength of all…a fucking superpower.  It’s that honesty that allows us to be vulnerable with each other and really love each other, scars and all.

Simone Biles is going to compete again on the beam.  I hope it’s not because she feels pressured.  I hope she’ll be safe…I’ll probably know before I finish this blog…and I do.  One of the announcers said that Simone Biles didn’t look nervous at all yesterday….I disagree. I thought there was a hint of “what if” in her eyes…what if I fall or can’t do this anymore or don’t want to?  Who am then?  Will I still matter?

The US women’s national soccer team will play for a bronze medal…not gold. What is the matter with them?  I can tell you what’s the matter with all of them…they all have the same thing…they are human beings, not robots.  Human beings just doing the best they can on any given day.  And unfortunately it is painful to be human, and to have your humanity exposed to others….or the whole fucking world.

Instead of judging these women, we could show compassion as a first response.  If I’m upset, just imagine what they are feeling and thinking..the loss, disappointment, sadness, uncertainty.  We could give them the love and respect they deserve.  Because as much as we may want to judge them we aren’t them….and although we act like we do, we have no idea what they are going through.  I wanted to be a champion and couldn’t because I wasn’t good enough….they are champions, many times over, and still have struggles.  We all struggle in the same way….it may look different, but we all doubt ourselves all the time…we just don’t have the whole world watching us and telling us we’re right or wrong…based on their own judgment of us.

Some of the pressure women feel is from trying to prove their worth over and over again…endlessly it seems. The world doubts us and we doubt ourselves.  The  American women’s beach volleyball players wear a necklace that says, “I am enough.” Why do we need that reminder?  Maybe because the world questions who we are and our relative value daily…more accurately, many times a day.  Am I enough if I lose?  What if I decide not to participate because I can’t or I don’t want to?  Do men question their value or worry they will be judged for losing or not trying or quitting…or disappointing?  I suppose some do….some of everyone does.  We are subject to doubt because we are subject to being human, with all the emotions and mental health issues that involves.

Let’s Be Real…When we judge ourselves by what other people say and think about us…it’s as if what they say is more true than what we know of ourselves.  The Bible has a well known quote attributed to God… “Be still and know that I am God.”  Be still and know…be still and know.  Knowing comes in our stillness, our silence.  I am…when we are still and know part of what we know is who we are…I am. And I “Be” (with a Capital B) when I act and live in connection to what I know…what I know of me, what I know of you, what I know of the world.  What I know, not what you say I know…or really what you say at all…because you are not me.

We are constantly going through the labor pains of rebirthing ourselves because we are always changing….becoming a truer and more honest version of ourselves.  And there is strength in vulnerability…in honesty..in letting ourselves be seen and known, and ultimately, loved.  In honoring and speaking our needs…courageously showing our humanity…..That’s the real strength…the true superpower.  And we all have it…the ability to be fully human and to embrace it all.  It’s a superpower because it takes superhuman strength to be vulnerable and allow ourselves to be seen, scars and all.

We need to redefine strength, because real strength is fearless…that is, fearless in the, “I face the truth and move forward even if I am afraid” kind of way…not the “I’ll play with a broken bone or mental health issue even if it means I may harm myself permanently” kind of way.  Real strength is the ability to stay with whatever arises….even when it hurts and we hate it…we stay…even when it feels overwhelming…we stay.  Even when we aren’t sure we’ll survive the pain…but in staying we Become…Because…

The strongest person I know

Nothing will stop her…from sitting

She’ll never quit….being with her feelings

This won’t stop her…from being present

Even though it’s tremendously painful

The strongest person I know 

Is content to be who she is

Fully human and frightened

She’s afraid but she stays

She’s confused but she stays 

Feels lost but she stays…no excuses

She’s the strongest person I know

She’s fearless

And then she emerges and places that hard earned bronze medal around her neck…proud she stayed and displayed her full humanity for the world. Let’s learn from all these women what it means to be a true champion.