Where the Lines Between Reality and Fantasy are Blurred

It has been 13 years since I returned to my life in TN after having lived in Dallas, TX for a mere 11 months.  A week ago tomorrow, I made a return trip back to Dallas for the first time since I moved away, visiting for a week.

What is most surprising to me to me is that nothing is as I remember it.  Sure, a lot can change in 13 years but I think it is more than that …

My move to Dallas represents only the second most important decision I have ever made thinking solely of my path, the first being my decision to attend college.

Since being back in TN over the past 13 years, I have often wondered if I made the right decision at the right time to move back. Sure, given Ma’s deteriorating health conditions, I would have moved back eventually but did I move back too soon?  This wondering, and perhaps regret, eventually developed into endearing memories of what my life in Dallas was like.  Granted, my time there was enjoyable but as I re-explored the sites this week and revisited some points with fond memories attached, I realize that nothing is as I remember it.

There are a few explanations for this I suppose ..

Granted, a lot can admittedly change in 13 years especially in an urban environment.  I didn’t even recognize my old office building given the new buildings that have risen around it so yeah, a lot has changed … but that’s not it …

Then, there is the phenomenon of false memories.  I recently had a conversation with a very dear friend of mine about general life events – a where were you when sort of conversation.  We began to speak of the Challenger explosion.  My memories tell me that I was in Ms. Palladino’s high school art class when we watched the news on the TV mounted in the front of the classroom.  I remember we got those TVs as part of a grant to support the viewing of the Channel 1 News station for current events framed for adolescents.  I also remembering sitting in the front row nearly in front of the TV as we watched the footage of the explosion.  She recounted similar memories but while she is only a couple of years my senior, her memories seemed to coincide with a much earlier age than mine.  So, we googled the event.  The Challenger exploded on January 18th, 1986 … given that I was born in ’78, that would have made me 8 years old – certainly not a high school student.  This is a perfect example of how our memories can distort a past reality.  How we can force ourselves to believe very specific and detailed events that never happened.  So I have to wonder, have my feelings of regret around Dallas somehow shaped my memories of my time there?

Finally, our cumulative experience defines our current experience … not only am I 13 years older, I have also acquired 2 master degrees, advanced in a new career, supported 2 teenage boys through high school … you get the picture.  Basically, most of what I experienced in 2002/03 were new experiences for me then and so left an impression that I carried with me all these years.  The impression was based more on the excitement surrounding a new experience and less about the experience itself.  Fast forward to 2016 – lots of other experiences now define the things/events/places I attempted to re-experience while in Dallas but it just wasn’t the same – because I am not the same and I no longer see/experience things the way I did when I was 24.

I guess I think through all of this to convince myself that no matter what, life is what you make of it and never what you remember of it.

To be a parent

A few weeks ago, my partner’s nephew came to stay with us for the summer (at this point anyway). He comes from a home where he is shown little support. He is here so that my partner and I can be positive influences on him (more positive than his home environment without a doubt). An additional role of mine is to tutor him in mathematics so that he can complete the state mandated curriculum for 9th grade. If he does not, he will again be in 9th grade next year. This is a contingency that I have become involved in as I am a licensed educator and that is one of the requirements for fulfillment.

What I am realizing is that I am not in a place to be responsible for a child. I am, for all intents and purposes, too selfish. I am not letting this get in the way of John’s (name substitution for anonymity) success, I am just recognizing that I am in a position to choose to be a parent and I choose right now not to be.

Part of me is envious of heterosexual relationships in that often times they become parents on accident, without any real planning, and so must step up their game immediately – no excuses. My situation/relationship is different.

A significant positive to my lifestyle is that no additional children will be biologically created to walk the our Earthly realm. I mean hell, there are already too many children not getting the love and support they need to thrive as it is – I see this daily as an educator. So then, I am in a unique place to love and care for a child that otherwise would not receive that love and support (that is, once the world recognizes that gay men can appropriately rear a child and NOT turn him/her gay). [A second, slightly less significant positive is that I can completely bypass the diaper stage!]

A significant negative to my lifestyle as I see it is that I get to choose when I want to grow up instead of having life circumstances (conceiving a child) dictate that timeline. As it stands, I don’t want to grow up anytime soon!

I have heard family and friends talk about waiting to have children until a time when they are ready – financially and responsibly speaking. Being in that place now myself I can understand easily why some would choose to never have children because they are never ready. I guess then that that is one of the miracles that coincide conception, the fact that the parent is immediately thrust into a state of adulthood (mentally, physically, and spiritually). I mourn the idea that no such event will occur for me.

I look at the positive previously stated and recognize that in terms of loving a child, not breeding is the best route to go in but when will I ever decide that I am ready?

My sister became pregnant some 17 years ago without planning the conception. I hesitate in saying it was an accident as I don’t believe it was. The pure angel that was conceived at that time was, I believe, conceived out of love and has today become a beautiful young woman who will undoubtedly influence our Earthly future in the most positive of ways. The conception then was one of divine intervention and not mere accident. I also see how much her parents have matured as a result of the conception. I see it most in terms of her father. He has surprised me beyond my wildest dreams. He has proven himself to be a remarkable father and citizen. I believe that he loves my sister and their two children unconditionally. So I am well aware then of the power of life circumstances to affect and refine personality, especially when it comes to giving of one’s self and providing for another.

I guess I am saying all of this as I contemplate my being a father, or DAD. I know without a doubt that I would be a great dad it’s just a matter of when.

I recall my feelings of urgency surrounding this topic shortly after my own father separated from the family. I was intent on having a boy of my own and proving to myself, my father, and everyone else, what a GREAT DAD was like. I was convinced that my own father was less than perfect and so had a desire to prove that it could be done. I even had my son’s name picked out – I would call him Jacob after a very dear friend of mine that showed me so much about life, even if she doesn’t realize it.

Some day, I suppose, I will take on this challenge – when I am ready …

Father’s Day

It’s interesting how a single resilient sperm can make any male a father. Many times, that sperm released in the heat of the moment (whether it be love, lust, anger, or fear) bestows upon someone completely unsuspecting and often times unwilling, the title of FATHER.

This title can be given to anyone with a functioning penis. Now days, heterosexual intercourse is not even required, just so long as that one sperm can be paired with one ovum under precisely the perfect conditions. When you think about it, conception (in or out of a womb) is quite miraculous. That’s a tangent I don’t intend to go down today.

My focus at this moment is to explore my own feelings surrounding Father’s Day.

I take issue first off with it being called Father’s Day. I mean, why would we choose to celebrate any Tom, Dick, or Harry whose penis was capable of functioning at the exact moment all other conditions were in place to bring about conception? Did this man really do anything so great? No!

Instead, I think it should be called Dad’s Day. I say this as it truly takes a special person to be a DAD. Someone who does more than just simply accept the responsibility given to him by his functioning penis. It takes a real man to be a Dad.

Now on to the real purpose of my writing tonight.

The past few days have been riddled with angst for me as this day approached. I didn’t quite know how to behave or what to do. You see, the fact that my Father’s penis functioned appropriately some 31 years ago when the stars were appropriately aligned to bring about the miracle that is myself, angers me. Don’t get me wrong, I am truly grateful for being here and having the opportunity to continue on my spiritual journey in the body that was created in that moment. My frustration comes as I waffle back and forth between what is expected of me and what is my truth.

I am EXPECTED to send my Father a card and some gift to show my appreciation for being the man that he is/was. My TRUTH though says that he and are so categorically different beings and on such extraordinarily different spiritual paths that I don’t owe him anything.

Again, don’t get me wrong here. I have an immense amount of respect for my Father and who he is. I know without a shaddow of a doubt that the circumstances surrounding his and my relationship over the years has defined who I am in so many ways. For example, I credit him for my utter distrust in religion. I credit him for the defintion of family I hold today (it has nothing to do with biology). I credit him for proving to me that all relationships are fluid and that it is impractical to expect a relationship truly based on love to last until someone dies. I credit him for teaching/showing me that communication has no value (though it is actually invaluable). I credit him for teaching me that real men should not show emotion or share their feelings. I credit him more than anyone for who I am today and who I will be tomorrow.

So now the question is, Do I like who I am? Well, I am angry so the answer is no, BUT, I am also growing and seeking out my own path so the answer is yes.

So, where do I find a card that expresses those feelings? I don’t think Hallmark makes it …

This angst I have been dealing with over the past few days is the same angst I face on October 24 (his birthday), December 23 (when he has the family over for Christmas), and February 12 (my birthday, when I have to decide how to thank him for the wonderfully loving card he sent me). I am tired of dealing with this angst yet the emotions built up behind it are so great that I AM AFRAID TO LET THEM OUT. I want so badly to just talk with him. I don’t mean about the weather or whatever happens to be on TV at the time, I’m tired of doing that. I want to talk to him about who I am and let him know that I do love him and that I do forgive him for walking out on me and ma all those years ago. I want to talk to him and find out who HE is. I want us to be in a different place than we are now. I am no longer okay with the same ole interactions. I want to have a connection with him. I just don’t know how to intiate it and I am afraid to try, afraid that he won’t reciprocate.

Today was Father’s Day. I didn’t even call him because I didn’t know what to say. Happy Father’s Day is not enough for me. I have to feel safe to say so much more.

America Has Grown Up!

It is truly a historic moment in the US tonight. We, as a country, have finally grown up and will finally deserve much of the respect the world already offers us.

We are on the verge of closing very dark chapter in our Nation’s history and bringing light to the American way of life. We still have years to go (namely the dying off of the baby boomers) but a new, more progressive way of thinking is on the horizon.

Family?

If I were to surmise the meaning of family in the biological sense, it would be simply to know and love those closest to you in the genetic pool but have little if anything to do with the meaning of life that I believe to be spiritual connections.

We define who we are according to our encounters with other human beings. That being said, I believe that we are placed within the universe among those we are most closely related (genetically speaking) so that we can define ourselves and form some level of separation or divide within the genetic pool on a more spiritual level. There are times when this separation does not occur usually because of fear and attachment. This phenomenon is referred to often as the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

I believe that it is important for us to find that path that diverges away from the path taken by the biological family. These varying paths then create a fabric or ripple within the universe so great and complex that human experience thrives. When this ripple is lacking, then there becomes nowhere to go really except in circles.

I say this as it has been 3 months now since I have seen or spoken with my sister. Actually, I am not sure we have ever spoken in the 30 years my body has existed. We have merely talked but never shared. Our previous interaction was the vacation over the summer that I previously wrote about. Most recently, we acknowledged each other’s presence inside a Walgreen’s.

I have released the bond between my sister and myself that I once so eagerly sought. I have released it so that we can each find our ripple and carry on with our lives. Sure, our ripples still have some level of interaction as the physics of ripples tell us, though the spatial friction separating us weakens the level of interaction day by day.

I am saddened though as my niece and nephew may somehow be caught in the undertow. I do love my niece and nephew immensely and wish that we could share some intimate time together, but I feel that I let my own fears prevent that. If I were to speculate, I would also say that they have their own fears that prevent it.

My fears are based on an idea of rejection but also a consideration of my place in their lives. Out of respect, I wonder if it is my place to share openly with my niece and nephew about my life paths and if so, at what age should they/I be? Perhaps, as I have previously conceded, it is my sister’s place to share with them. My fear then is to what extent she will be open and open-minded about my path and how much of a role her own conservative christian values and beliefs will weigh in and pass judgement.

I am also willing to admit that I may be making a mountain out of a mole hill but it is so very important to me that my niece and nephew take the nearest tangent to the circle they seem to be in and find their own ripple.

I can only have faith that my ripple will support that of my niece and nephew as they discover who they are and find their life meaning.

When Someone Else Says What You Are Thinking [part 2]

At the age of 15, my parents separated. Being that I was raised very fundamentally (religiously speaking), I had a very difficult time with their separation for it completely went against everything I had been taught – by them.

Thus began my hell.

For 5 years I remained in a darkness surrounded by hate and resentment for my father, for my religion, and for everything I had been taught was right. It was not until I moved away from the small town I was raised in and small minded people I was raised around that I found myself and my truth. I owe considerable debt to Katrine and Heidi (two angels) who showed me that life existed outside the boundaries of this village.

Thus begins my heaven.

I realize now that where I came from (both literally and metaphorically speaking) are key components in who I am today. Granted, I consider myself to be very different, but had I not experienced the darkness, I would not be able to experience the light I enjoy now. I am happy to say that I have forgiven everyone surrounding this time, most importantly my father, and have healed immensely.

I have found a path/journey that more closely aligns with what I believe spiritually and continue on it daily – constantly refining my truth and broadening my understanding of a universe I am part of.

I feel that I am finally on my way to the other side.

I would once again like to reference Brendan James and share the lyrics of track number 5 from his recent album titled The Day Is Brave. The song title is The Other Side. I again give full credit to the artist and hope that anyone who reads these ponderings will seek out the album and appreciate it as much as I do.

I feel I must also say that the resemblance of these words to my own life is uncanny. It is emotional for me to think of my own life/growth in this piece of remarkable writing.

When Someone Else Says What You Are Thinking [part 1]

Music can be a very powerful medium. Not only can it speak to you, it often times speaks through you and has the ability to be quite healing. Having said this, there are a number of songwriters that I appreciate immensly – James Taylor, Bonnie Raitt, and without a doubt Tracy Chapman. I have recently come across a newer singer/songwriter that I feel just as passionately about – Brendan James. His most recent album, The Day Is Brave, is incredibly emotional and heartfelt; at least for me.

Given the current political climate in the country in which I live and our role in the Middle East, there is one song on his album that speaks volumes. I have never been able to fully articulate my feelings about the war only knowing I do not support the ethnocentric motives my country has used to justify the war as it stands currently (noting that our initial attack has been proven to be based on lies and the ego of a leader I do not support).

Brendan James so beautifully places the war in perspective with track number 3, Hero’s Song. I would like to include the lyrics here and hope that you will seek out the album to hear the emotion in it. Full credit and admiration is given to the artist for this song.

Impossible Relationship?

I recently went on vacation with my family to Panama City Beach. I was looking forward to the trip for a couple of reasons, namely sharing intimately with my sister, niece and nephew.

My sister and I had recently had a discussion about opening up with each other and making attempts at having an actual dialog with one another. As a family, we have never spoke intimately with one another; conversations have always been very superficial. As a result, I don’t feel my sister knows who I am and I am sure I don’t know who she is. I feel as though she makes assumptions about and judgements of my life and the path I am taking.

I was looking forward to this trip so that she and I could dialog and I always wanted to spend some quality time with my niece and nephew for I fear that my sister’s assumptions/judgements may be clouding their own perception of me.

I believe on the second day I was sitting by the pool with my sister when she lays out a book and a couple of magazines. I love to read and really enjoy expanding my own life through self-awareness so I was naturally interested in the topic of her current read. The book was titled Bringing Up Boys and is written by Dr. James Dobson. This happens to be another topic of great interest to me as I believe that femininity and masculinity are social constructions born primarily out of fear and ignorance – so I picked it up and began reading the cover.

It turns out that Dr. James Dobson is the founder/president of Focus on the Family. This imediately sent chills over me. I continued to read the first couple of pages and then went back to the table of contents for a broader perspective of the information therein. Chapter 9 really caught my eye – The Origins of Homosexuality. Again, chills. I skipped ahead to the beginning of this chapter and noticed that various sentences had been underlined so I focused my reading on those. (I questioned who had underlined portions of the book and my sister indicated that it was a borrowed book and has been passed around her church among various mothers.)

What was alarming was not only the claim that homosexuality was indeed a disorder but the suggestion that parents should seek psychological counseling for their adolescent boys should they exhibit efiminate qualities.

The chills turned to anger and frustration quickly. It became clear that my sister was not interested in knowing me. Granted, this was only one of seventeen chapters in the book and perhaps not even a topic of focus for her reading. It hurt nonetheless. Does my sister believe that I am suffering from some disorder that requires psychological help? I feel certain that she believes my lifestyle to be one that is sinful so she must believe then that I am choosing it …

I only want for my sister and I to have the type of relationship I fear is impossible. I want us to talk openly and candidly, free from judgement of one another. I want her to understand me …

Perhaps the superficial conversations are her way of accepting me and avoiding placing judgement on me.

I guess when I search my own soul it is I who judges her. I want her to believe as I do.