loyalty

When Words Fail…

…what do you say?

When “I wish I could take your hurt away” is inadequate?

When “you’ll be fine” rings hollow?

When silence doesn’t feel like an answer?

I don’t know how to fix things.

I can not undo what happened.

I can promise that the only thing that has changed between us is that, I care more for you because you are taking more of my emotional energy…

…and that is a gift freely given…

I do know that you have been told you are beautiful but, I don’t know if they were talking about what I am, your heart and soul. There is no part of you that is, to me, damaged. You were and always will be beautiful.

This is my hand. Take it for as long as you need.

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Don’t Use Those Words Again, Please

Ok, I’m having one of those moments when I need to say something in public to random strangers…I need to make sure that, by saying in public what I would say in private, that my words are not so easily dismissed.

I have a friend that I’ve written a few blogs for or about. I have no need to lie to her or pander to her whims. There is zero monetary or personal gain for me from telling her things just to make her feel better and, besides, that isn’t me. I have told her things I am SURE she didn’t want to hear. So, when I compliment, it is the absolute truth…well, there is my own bias which could, perhaps, color my subjectivity…

So, let’s begin. Do you do things that concern me? Yes and we’ve talked about them at length so, there’s no need here. Are you perfect?

Are you perfect? Nope, but, not one single human is. Yes, you are able to be opinionated and angry at times…just like every other human on the planet…

Now, for the reason, I’m writing. You say things that I wish you wouldn’t. You describe yourself with words that make me sad. I’m not a sad person by nature so, when I am, there’s a good cause…

Lately, you have used the words “slut”, “whore”, “easy lay”, and “fat” as descriptions of yourself.

*sigh*

I don’t know how to convince you that you are not correct. You are just not correct.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex. Period. That you do doesn’t make you an object. It makes you human. Those first three descriptors are words that make me think that you think of yourself as an object, an item to be used and discarded. You are not. End of story.

You are also not “fat” or any other negative. You do exercise. You swim, run, and row. You are in good physical shape. You might argue that you could be in better shape. So could everyone. I’m thin as a rail because of an accident of genetics, not because of anything I actively do.

Maybe you believe my rebuttals to your words or maybe this will make my point better…

*remember the part about no free compliments, remember those words when you read these*

You know I never had kids and you don’t fill that spot in my world, for two reasons. First, because being called “daughter” has bad connotations to you. Second, because you aren’t in that spot. You are a trusted and loved friend. Having said that, if you were my daughter, I couldn’t be prouder of you.

Do you realize what you’ve done?

You were smart enough and brave enough to leave an abusive relationship at a great cost to yourself. You have realized you made some mistakes and are taking steps to quit them forever. You see and confront your demons every day and push them farther back into their cage. You have not judged ME for what I’ve done, let me share my demons with you, and helped me face mine while dealing with your own. You have become, without intent, one of the people I trust…and you know how rarely I give that.

Those words that you use about yourself, please don’t. Those mistakes you think define you, you aren’t them. You are defined by your triumphs…not your defeats.

When the haters and the voices judge you, remember my words, not theirs…My words will tell you that you do have worth. They will say that the PERSON you are is valuable. That your soul is untarnished. That you are needed for something that isn’t tangible, your mind. That the world is a better place for having you in it. That, just by existing, you make me smile.

My words will tell you that you do have worth. They will say that the PERSON you are is valuable. That your soul is untarnished. That you are needed for something that isn’t tangible, your mind. That the world is a better place for having you in it. That, just by existing, you make me smile.

Like I said up there,those words you said about yourself,  please never use them again. You are not them. Not before, not now, not ever. I may not be objective but, you earned my subjective view.

I may not be objective but, you earned my subjective view. To me, you’re irreplaceable.

 

Grouchy Rainy Morning Musings

  1. Yeah, it’s me again. Not sure why, just here. I was thinking, always dangerous, and found some stuff in my head. I’ll probably forget some of them so, I’ll try to get the things out that need to be and hope for the best…
  2. The line between doing the right thing and over the cliff is this thin *holds up two fingers pressed together*. Don’t cross that line when you see it.
  3. I hate WalMart. I mean, really despise going in there.
  4. Your past doesn’t define you. Only your actions going forward.
  5. People are important. Said it before. Will again. It’s worth repeating. That doesn’t mean everybody is important to everyone but, someone is to every person. Find them but, be careful.
  6. *gratuitous bedroom comment* If you judge people by what they do in THEIR bedroom, when you’re not there and it isn’t your’s, then you open yourself to have your most private space judged…and no one can survive that test. Bluntly, who or how someone f**ks is none of your damn business unless they make it yours and, if they give you that trust, by telling you, don’t be a mistake they made.
  7. If your partner doesn’t make you laugh, you made a mistake because, that means they are either too stupid to make a joke or are too concerned with themselves to spend time on you.
  8. Partner is the operative word in 5. A relationship is a team sport. Both have to have the same goal. If one does and the other doesn’t. the former is a parasite and the latter is a host.
  9. You are what you eat *grins* Do you want to be tasty bacon or compost?
  10. We all have insecurities, failings, and weaknesses. Every human does. Find someone that doesn’t feed your insecurities, point out your failings, and pull you down when you’re weak.
  11. When someone trusts you, you have two choices, return it or run. Don’t be their mistake.
  12. I believe in love at first sight. I also believe in friends at first sight, It doesn’t happen often but, when it does, when someone accidentally “fits” like an old comfortable pair of jeans, cherish them as if you had known them for years and don’t question that it happened.
  13. Don’t wish your life away. It’s gone in an eye blink.
  14. Politicians suck. Yours are no better than mine. They ALL suck.
  15. There are hard words loyalty, duty, honor. They are worth trying to live up to.
  16. Have faith in something greater than yourself that is not human. Yeah, some kind of Divine. Doesn’t have to be mine but, ignoring that there are things we don’t understand and believing that we know everything means we believe we are God. We aren’t. The Universe is big and full of unexplained Infinities…
  17. Help someone. Just that.
  18. It’s ok not to be happy all the time.
  19. There are three words I NEVER use casually “love”, “hate”, and “friend”. If I say one of those words to you or about you, it has depth and meaning far beyond just letters on a page.
  20. Even bad days have moments when you can laugh.
  21. If you tell someone you’re going to do something, do it. If you had no intention of doing it, you shouldn’t have said anything.
  22. Backspace is your friend online. Not everyone needs to know you disagree.
  23. “No” is also an acceptable answer.
  24. Having people for friends  that are different from you is better than having ones that are the same. Sure, there need to be common values but, if they are the same then they are clones. Clones are boring. Life’s too short for boring friends.
  25. It’s ok to make mistakes. Repeating them and expecting them to not be mistakes the third or fourth time around isn’t.
  26. It’s ok to be angry. Some things are worth being angry about. It’s not a bad thing to have a temper, it has uses. Just don’t live there. Sadness is the same way.
  27. Lists get old and I’m forgetting stuff, so this is probably all for now *grins* I’m an old grouch but, that’s fine because I’m also a nice guy that likes to laugh and be sarcastic. You have two options dealing with that, take me as I am or walk away. Either is fine.
  28. Oh yeah, forgot and remembered. Don’t expect people to change for you. If you found them that way, it means they wouldn’t change for someone else, what makes you think you’re going to be any different?
  29. Last, love someone…and yourself…both are needed and both are had.

That’s enough for now. I think this list is for me. It’s also for someone else. It’s also for anyone that happens to read it and finds some musing that fits their need. Steal it at will or ignore the arrogance that thinks there’s something of worth in here. Your call.

Women…

Usually, I write right after I wake up. That’s when my brain remembers what it wants to say and it hasn’t gotten distracted by being engaged with thinking. Today isn’t usually…so, maybe this goes into the Great Draft Pile in the Sky…or I decide to eff it and post the damn thing…*editorial, it’s already going downhill because I’m very rarely profane here. “Not here” my favorite word starts with an eff…*

…I have never been a person that engaged in casual sex. It has, every time, been with a person that I thought I could see the potential for “forever” with. I have encouraged others to “get laid” but, just not me. *I don’t mean to get into my own sexuality other than that bit because it applies to the train of thought*

I wouldn’t cheat on my wife if it was offered. Couldn’t. Having said that, the people I seem to like and talk to most are women. Perhaps, because sex has never been casual, it’s because, unlike most cishet males, women have never been “sex objects” to me. Yes, I am able to, and do, see an attractive woman as an attractive woman but, not as an “it” for me to imagine “between the sheets”. Hope this is making sense.

I suppose the reason I like women as people to talk is because, it seems to me, that there is less pretense in their core thinking. The thought, as I’m pondering, is that like my favorite poet, Kipling, alluded to is that the cost of the continuation of the species to y’all leaves very little room for self-delusion. When the upside is surviving childbirth and the downside is fatal, the cost is far greater than what the male has invested in the process…

Anyway…

Yeah, the train of thought drifted away…

Oh yeah, I think that the reason men treat y’all, women, like objects is that we realize that we are scared and in awe of y’all. Truthfully, I’m not sure I could handle the physical and emotional investment that procreation, not sex, involves for y’all all. It’s easier to demean and diminish what we fear than it is to acknowledge it, the fear I mean…

Why do we, men, fear y’all? Is it that childbirth/pregnancy/motherhood scares us? Is it that we realize that, physically, we have done more wrongs to women than y’all have done to us? Is it, again to paraphrase Kipling, that we realize that y’all HAVE to be fearless and far more ruthless than we do? Is it that, at the bottom of things, we wish to possess that which we have no right to own and realizing our weakness, fear our own weakness?

Look y’all, I have male acquaintances and one guy I think of as a close friend but, when I meet someone and think “this person MIGHT be someone I would like to trust as a friend”, invariably she’s a woman. I expect to be lied to by a guy. I expect that they will be a braggart, shallow, and craven. I expect that they will be little substance and all surface. Most times I’m correct.Sure, women like to dress and maintain their appearance but, women dress for themselves, not for others. Men dress to brag. That, in of itself, speaks volumes…

This was such a well-formed thought when I was thinking it…

Perhaps just to end the thought…

I don’t know why there’s even a human race left. I don’t know why women have let us men survive. We haven’t earned it. Our treatment of the other 49.6% of the world has really proved that our only truly useful function is as sperm donors…guys, we need to get over ourselves…

*****

My attitude isn’t quite as harsh as this comes across. I do, however, believe that we, men, need to change our attitudes toward those that gave birth to us.

*****

One parting thought. This is what I’ve paraphrased throughout this…

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

The Female of the Species

WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
‘Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man’s timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn’t his to give away;
But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other’s tale—
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.

Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.
Mirth obscene diverts his anger—Doubt and Pity oft perplex
Him in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!

But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.

She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.

She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.

She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—
He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.

Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!

So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands
To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.

And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.

Respect and Dignity…

*sigh*
I’ve been writing FOR Pagans lately. My posts seem, to me, to be harshly critical of “my faith”…or could be perceived that way. I need to clarify. I AM Christian. I love Christianity and the “words in red”, meaning HIS words. My disputes and disagreements aren’t with the Faith, it’s with the way SOME, not all, Christians practice and express it…

My own life and path have not been perfect, far from it…

I have been Christian, then atheist and addict, then “Fundie” Christian, and now Heretic Christian. I’ve wandered around trying to figure out where it all went together…and still do. My Faith is a big part of my life and world view. It is something that I spend a large portion of my mental time, when the stuff that involves work, life, and wife, allow me to think. Last thing before I sleep I’m thinking about it and first when I wake up. Quiet moments in my day and driving are filled with thinking about it…and where I fit into it…

*sigh*

Instinctively I seek the middle ground. My life as an addict was not one of “moderation”. Now it is. I am distrustful of strong emotionalism. I am suspicious of faith that is based on ecstasy. I also distrust faith that says, “if you’re not one of us, you MUST be against us”. Again, that does not make me anti-Christian but anti-extremist. I become concerned with harsh judgmentalism and wonder if those that carry that belief are not more self-centered than faithful…and I know that I am guilty of that, too. I AM self-centered, petty, jealous, rude, mean-spirited, and harsh. I am fully capable of all the things I try to write against, no matter how hard I try to keep from being them.

Respect is earned by being given. It is a truth of life that we get what we give. Kindness begets kindness. Respect for someone’s faith gains respect for our own. Treating people with dignity returns that to us…

There HAS to be a middle way. I am not, and will never be, Pagan but, there are parts of that path that I understand. I do not know the rituals and magics. I don’t want to know, not my business. I do know that the traditions of herbalism and lore were also an accepted part of Christianity. I know that we, Christians, also seek insight into the mind of God through prayer. There is no direct Pagan analog but, there is seeking understanding of the supernatural. We claim that their faith is “made up” or “fiction” yet, theirs predates ours.

*sigh*

I know a bunch of Pagans. That was an accident. I didn’t seek to know ANY. They are just people. They are just as imperfect as anyone…Of course, I accidentally know a bunch of Christians and we are an imperfect set, too…

Why do we think, as a general question, that our specific beliefs give an exclusive lock on morality? What makes us so presumptuous as to believe that our way is the ONLY way and every other one is wrong? Again, middle ground, I have been mistaken. I do NOT know everything and have no particular insight into the minds of others and no way of knowing the inner workings of the mind of God…”but, Miller, the Bible says…” Yes, it does, and we don’t speak the language it was written in, some words do not directly translate, and are we sure that the translators did not have their own agenda? Not to mention that I am SURE that Jesus spoke more words than were written down. Who knows what else He said?

I’m looking for a modus vivendi, a way of living that includes rather than excludes. I want faith to be respected. Yes, specifically, Christians and Pagans finding mutual respect and peace are the end goals.

I write these to both Pagans and Christians…

*sigh*

…even though it seems that few Christians read these. I had to learn because I was faced with a human that isn’t Christian and, yet, she  is someone I love and respect. It is my hope that we can find a way to interact that allows both paths to flourish. I want MY beliefs to be treated, by Pagans, the same way I want theirs to be respected by us…

They are not a bunch of “damned heathen Pagans with their silly made-up, comic book, magick, and divinations”. They are Witches. We are Christians. They do practice magic and divination. We pray. They are not “damned” any more than we are. They are merely different…and that adds color to our world.

*****

My reasons ARE selfish. I want respect for my beliefs. I want respect for my best friend’s. More importantly than the respect, I am proud and protective of her. I want for her to not have to hide or be cautious. Just as I am able to say, “I’m Christian” and not expect any repercussions, I want her to be able to say “I’m a Witch” and not worry about her job or safety. I have found that HER community is more accepting of my belief than mine is of hers. I see the wrongness in that because her’s are the older set and we are the upstart.

Changing the World isn’t easy. It happens one person at a time…7 billion times. I do not expect to finish the task in my life…nor do I have any reason to suspect it’ll ever be done…I do have to try, though. I have my words. I have my prayers. I have a friend that walks along side that gave me hope that change could happen, it did in me.

Respect and dignity are not too much to ask…

 

D**n Confusing Woman…or, An Old Comfortable Pair of Jeans…

I have a friend. *grins* I really have several but, this is about one. She easily GIVES praise, when she thinks it’s deserved and will argue you into the ground to make you see it in yourself but, she REFUSES to see it in herself. Allow me to quote her…

“Sometimes I have to step back. I do not see in myself these things you write about me. I am just being me. I live my life the best way I can and do my best to always be kind and caring. I have my human moments but I ground myself and remember that every thing and every person has a purpose. I may not always know what that purpose is, but I am certain that there is one. With me just being me, I am at times taken aback when I realize these words are about me.”

Yes, you are human. I used the phrase, “In truth, she can be a stone b***h and highly opinionated”. You are entirely capable of being petty and spiteful. You are able to “beat me up” over a misphrased idea. Some days all I want to say is, “give me a break”. So what?

This was my reply to her, “… you agreed without any condition or editorial input, to be used as an example. You allow and encourage me to share details of your life, health, and faith. You, although you know me well enough to know they exist, have never set any boundaries on what is permissible to reveal. You want me to show your imperfections and failings. You have given unconditional trust to me. Do you know ANYONE else willing to do that? It’s easy to say things about ourselves. It is a far different thing to trust someone else to do that, even your best friend. See?…”

Think about that for a bit. How many of us are willing to let someone, even a trusted friend, to do that? How many are willing to, no matter the cause or end, are willing to be used as an example and have our lives shown to strangers, look at the warts and all, to show the frailties, comment on the sexuality, point out the chronic illness, use their faith, to be the Hammer?

Part of me wants to say, “okie dokie, here ya go” but…I can’t quite bring myself to…

People are confusing. We mistake being human for being perfect. We see our defects very clearly and our glories not at all. We are blind to what we do and when it is pointed out, automatically dismiss it.

So, what’s all this have to do with writing about how Christians and Pagans interact? Actually, not much…unless you figured out that it’s Aj that I’m talking about. Even then, there’s no direct reference to Paganism or Christianity…and, unless I rewrite this, won’t be…

It’s an odd thing, she likes the posts where I write about her humanity. She enjoys being The Hammer. Those aren’t fun for me. I like the “nice” posts, the ones where I get to talk about the regard I hold her in, the ones with the “hero worship” in them. The truth about her is probably someplace in the middle…

It’s kind of like an old comfortable pair of jeans, her friendship. It fits. It’s soft and comfortable. It has meaning beyond its apparent worth. When it started out it was starchy and stiff…now, even if we talk on text or chat, I hear her voice… I have a memory of a hug on a warm summer day…I know that when I need some thought, she was doing it before I knew I needed it…I didn’t want her as a friend but, as time goes on, I realize she was the friend I NEEDED…and still do.

Broken down into her parts, you might judge a bit and find the whole wanting but, the whole is what matters…and that’s the lesson. If you take people apart, you’ll always find something to dislike. Stop doing that…even to people that confuse you.

The “Other Woman” in My Life…or, A Love Letter to My Best Friend

Ten years ago…I was still a mess. I was 9 days sober…or at least without drugs or cigarettes…and very thoroughly confused. I didn’t know if sobriety was going to take. I was in an environment that was “odd” to say the least. I had gone from atheism back to the faith of my youth, Christianity, in one “Damascus Road” moment and trying to figure out what was going on. I was in a house that invited people like me in to help us. I am still entirely grateful for them and their house…

Five years ago…I was a few months married to the first person outside of a blood relation or a dog that I had ever told I loved and realizing that there was an other person that I could say that about…

Now, I’m sitting next to my wife that I love very dearly and writing a post about the “other woman” in my life…

When you are an addict, emotional growth ceases. We don’t have to grow because high fills that void…until high becomes Hell. I got out of Hell and started, slowly, learning. I had to learn some self-control because I will very eagerly substitute anger for high. That was easy enough most of the time. I have to consciously break the loop that is reaction. I’ve practiced and can back myself down…it took lots of practice, though.

Love is a different story. That one is still more confusing. I try to intellectualize it. I attempt, because I fear emotional reactions, to figure it out. *editorial, I even apply that to faith. I suspect “charismatic” Christianity because of that bias. That type of reaction isn’t a fit for me* You have to kind of follow the path in a confused mind to see where I’m going, sorry.

Five years ago, I realized that I was “in love” with a woman that is not my wife. Not romantic love. Not “I’ll leave my wife and we can run away together” love. Just love. It seemed so very odd to me. I mean, there I was saying “I love you” to a woman that was married while I was, still am, married to the love of my life. How was that supposed to work? That entire thought process scared me *some of it still does* but, more importantly, it taught me. I learned to reach outside of myself, to grow…

This person, Aj, is the “other woman”. We could never be a couple because our lives are vastly different. She has a daughter and I am lacking in the patience that parenting requires. My house has two adults and no pets. It is calm, dark, and quiet. My sanity needs that calm refuge from the “noise” that is the outside world and work. My idea of fun is coming home and staying here with my wife and comfortable surroundings. Her’s, on a good day, is controlled chaos. Between the cat, dog, and a very energetic and bright 5-year-old daughter there is constant demand for attention and noise. She does stuff like going 4-wheeling and stuff. She has errands and outside interests. I do all my errands on the way to or from work and then stay home. To top it off she has a list of medical issues that sap her strength and cause constant visits to the Dr. Yea, I’m in a bit of awe of her. Go figure, what she does and deals with daily would make my knees buckle. Also, she and I do not share the same faith. Just as she has a hard time, read will not again, dating Christians because she’s Pagan, I could not find myself married to a non-Christian. They are not inimical to each other but, do not work in the same home. It is my firm contention that homes may be made of many differing views as long as there is shared faith…

Yet, I do love her. I “worry” *editorial, I don’t have a better word that means “not stressed but, is always on my mind”* for her, even though she tells me not to. *grins* I stay concerned that her health is not getting worse and she has the strength to get through the day. She taught me how to send energy, so I do every chance I get and every time I think about it. I want good things for her and keep that in my prayers. I hope that even though she knows it, that she hears the words “you’re beautiful and I love you” from a voice that deeply and passionately means it. I have a hope that she’s getting some physical companionship, read “getting laid” because sometimes the physical touch of another body is the greatest healer.

So…here we are today. I am entirely faithful to Sweety. I can not imagine my life without her but, I love another woman, too. I am committed to her also, just not as a mate or date. I can be at peace with that because she makes me a better husband. I have a teacher and a confidant. I have someone that is as committed to the success of my marriage because she loves me and wants me and my wife to have that marriage. I have someone that keeps a candle burning for my house just as her’s stay in my prayers, constantly. I realize that non-romantic love is just as important as the passion that I have for my wife.

I have been given a part of someone’s soul as a gift and returned a bit of mine. I know that if our paths may diverge, that my life will never be the same for having known her and if they go together, that my life will be the better for it. She taught me to expand myself. I learned and still am, that the world is bigger than my tiny corner. That, no matter how hard life kicks you in the head, if you are breathing there is still hope. That because someone is “different” they have lessons to teach you that you never imagined you needed…till they taught them to you.

Yeah, there’s another woman in my life and I have these words for her…

Aj, you’re beautiful. Your heart and soul are things I’ll treasure till my dying day. Thank you for the lessons you’ve taught and the unknown lessons to come. You make my world a better place by being in it. We may not speak often but, I hear your voice every time we type. I don’t know why Destiny put our paths together but, I am grateful, with all my heart, to your gods and my God for doing it. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reaching out to me. Thank you for the piece of you that you’ve given me. I love you dearly.

What Are You For?

There’s a scene in “Bull Durham” where Crash tells Annie what he believes in. It’s a great scene because it shows not what he’s against but, what he’s for…

We seem to be stuck with the idea that we have a right to be offended by everything and everyone. We think that, because we are offended, everyone must not give us offense and have to stop. Allow me to disagree. Yeah, you or I may be all the offended we want to be. I’ll give you that. Where we disagree is when we say that someone has to stop offending us…

It’s easy to be offended. It’s comfortable to feel like a victim. It doesn’t take any effort at all to say that someone has wronged me. No introspection. No questions. Not really any thought at all. It’s just “poor poor me…”

We can make lists all day long of what offends us…Christians, Pagans, atheists, straights, gays, Liberals, Conservatives, Libertarians…somehow or someway we can take offense at all of them…Southerners, Northerners, Texans, Californians…pick one…pick a bunch…

So, here’s a challenge. What are you for?

I’ll start…

I’m for my wife, peace in my house, hugs and kisses, holding hands, stray dogs, Aj Z Kelladillo and the family, rare beef, remembering ALL of our history the good and bad, honest politicians, naps, snacks, quiet days off, Spring and Fall, telling the truth, loyalty toward friends, honor, treating everyone with dignity, giving people room to be themselves, marriage being between two people that love each other, fishing, air conditioning, comfort over style…the list is endless.

Being for stuff means, to me, living with gratitude and not anger. It means setting aside jealousy and envy. It means I’ve decided not to invite stress into my world. *editorial, sometimes I do invite it in. Sigh*

My list isn’t really all inclusive. It was just a start. I could, and sometimes do, go on all day. I do have a question, though…What are you for?

Some Boxes in the Attic

I’m gonna clean out the attic. There are some boxes up there that need to be poked into. Maybe there are treasures, maybe junk. Let’s see which and we can both decide…

*****

I was thinking about something I said and Z called me on. I used the phrase “predisposed to like girls that like girls”. It sounds like, in retrospect that my preference is for Lesbian friends or female friends. Z even pointed that out. It bugged me and stuck in my head. I have a tendency to waaaaaay over think things. It is possible that it is the truth, even if its not a conscious thought. I really didn’t set out to have my closest friends be women. It has struck me as odd that it worked out that way. Who knows? I mean, it isn’t part of some interview process. “Would you like to become someone I talk to and some years down the road trust? Oh yeah, are you a Lesbian?”

I don’t love Z because she’s a “girl that likes girls”. I love her because she’s Z. We don’t need a list of things that make her who she is, I would still miss stuff. It’s enough to say that she, as a person, is a Treasure. I’m not gonna think it any further through than that. I will give it this, though, if she weren’t gay, this blog wouldn’t exist in the form that it does. I HAVE to have a person to write for and about. It’s part of me. I am good with specific people, not so much a “demographic”. The numbers are just too big…

*****

Yesterday, I wrote about my addiction and it sounded like I was down on myself or putting down what I’ve done. I’m really not. Like I told someone, some days are almost easy, some are hard as Hell. It’s been almost ten years and it isn’t a walk in the park. I still have nightmares. I wake up yelling…like last night. My wife is patient, she just wakes me up and then goes back to sleep.

Anyway, not to make light of things, I’m a Meth Survivor. I know that’s a rare thing. I know I have a bunch of baggage, read “boxes in the attic”. I merely have this perspective, pardon me quoting something I said to someone else, “What I beat was done BY me. What y’all beat was done TO you. Just as you think I overcame something seemingly insurmountable, from here, it seems the same to me about you. I can not imagine how hard it was. Y’all are my heroes, too.” Does that make sense? I made my bed. I wasn’t an addict when I was born. I had a chance to stop every time I started…and didn’t. I suppose that’s why I don’t think it’s that big a deal. That and I really don’t know how to handle compliments or praise. I just don’t have the tools…

Back to my point, though. My past shaped my now. Expecting nothing from life has taught gratitude. Not being able to trust anyone has given me an appreciation for the people I trust…and a fear of trust because my mind still expects betrayal. Knowing what it’s like to beat something that usually wins means I tend to root for the underdog. Not loving myself means I am scared of it, love, now but…I am enjoying the learning process, even if it confuses and scares me. For what it’s worth, I have some people that are teaching me and I don’t know quite how to take that. I always expect conditions even while not imposing them on others. *editorial, my mind is an oddly shaped place*…

One last before this goes away. I got a second chance. I grabbed it and ran. I was given a gift beyond price. I was given Life. I will always appreciate that. If you are given a gift like that, never turn it down.

*****

I think I want to revisit the “Z thing” again… I didn’t really set out to spend as much time writing about LBGT Rights as I have. I was going to write about Religious Freedom, random stuff, Drug Addiction, love and, yeah, LBGT Rights. It just kind of turned out that The Muse needs a voice. We, she and I, use her as the example and the inspiration for these words. *editorial, “use” is not a word I like, in the future I’m gonna say “share” because she’s not a tool to be used. She’s a human* My point being, LBGT Rights have covered all the rest. If we learn that Humans deserve respect, then we learn to respect their values, even if we don’t do things the same way. When we see Z, not as a part of a group but, as the Treasure she is, then we may learn to see other people in the same way. She’s not an (insert pejorative). She’s one of the very most valuable people in my world. She’s a Treasure and a Lady. Period. She’s a cherished part of her family. She is a space in my heart that I didn’t know existed ’till she filled it.

Thing is, everyone someone denigrates is a Z to someone else. No matter what you might think of them, when you put down that person, you are deciding that you have the right to assign and diminish value. You do not. I don’t care what your reason is. Just because someone doesn’t fit what you want takes nothing away from them, it just makes you blind and it makes you smaller…

I honestly don’t care what you do with your treasures. I’m proud of mine. I’m proud of her courage and willingness to let me share her with the World.

*****

Different box…I use the word Lady with a capital because I use it as if it were a title. Same with the word Treasure…or any other random use of caps. It’s a part of me and them…*grins* I didn’t assign the titles, they earned them.

*****

It seems there are lots of boxes today…

I admit this is a bit hypocritical but, meaning I’m going ahead anyway, why are people so concerned with what other people do? Why such great concern with someone else’s life? Why not worry about your own? Yeah, I ask those while trying to persuade people to change. My point being, if you are a something and someone else is a different something, why does that make you want them to be the same something as you? Why not just treat them as a person and go on? Wouldn’t it be simpler? Maybe a tad less stressful? A whole lot less complicated than saying, “you don’t fit my box so I gotta tear down your box and rebuild it before we can interact”? It seems that way to me. I like having different perspectives in my life…even if I disagree with some. *grins* Maybe I missed something. Maybe people like their tiny boxes and feel safer in them. I like exploring my big box. It’s got a bunch of interesting stuff in it…

*****

Sometimes I wonder…other times I’m sure…I digress…*grins* I think the whole of what was stashed in the boxes was an attempt to get us, you and me, to lighten up. Life is short and can be difficult. There are principals to stand on. Loyalty, trust, honesty, and love come to mind. Why complicate things by being concerned with the details of someone else’s life when we have enough in our own that could use a bit of polish?

*****

*grins* The Muse is fishing. The Surrogate Muse is doing whatever Surrogate Muses do when they’re not around to surrogate. *grins again* So, they left me alone to see what was in some boxes…Look, I found my old blankie…Y’all have a good day. Maybe some of this made some sense? *sweeps dust off of the floor and wanders off…*

 

Strong Marriages and Love

You realize you guys have made me a better husband. I mean, Kelly, you know my past.You know how much I balk at the “love” stuff because I have a hard time believing it about myself. Sweety was my first love. Aj came along and kept pounding into my head that I have worth. I started to believe it. Then I started writing and realized that I couldn’t write about love and it’s worth without believing it further. As it progressed I realized that the more I said “I love Z to pieces” the more I realized MY capacity for it and that if I could do that, I HAD to have worth. Somewhere in the middle, Z stayed the focus but, the writing, although it named her, became more inclusive of specific people I know.
7:05pm
Tracking so far?
Miller Davidge III
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Anyway, the more it spread, the better I got at it. It makes me a better husband because the more I use it, the stronger it gets for HER. Make sense? Anyway, every time you guys give me a reason for the “warm fuzzies” either because I write to you or you say nice stuff to me or because of the trust you’ve shared with me or any of the other reasons I love you guys for being yourselves, it gives me more love to give to Sweety. That and by being around strong married couples I become a better husband.

*****

This was the body of a conversation I had with Kelly. She said it should be a blog post. So, this is it…

Now for some thoughts…I think about marriage a lot. I married late, late 40’s, for the first time. Falling in love and getting married was something I thought happened to other people, never to me. As a result, being the best possible husband is important to me. I try to associate with people and couples that have the same values. That they don’t take their partner for granted or, if they’re single, have the qualities, capacity for love, honesty, and loyalty that I want around me. Because I seem to like women better than men as friends, those couples tend to be Lesbian couples and not straight. Because Z is a girl that likes girls, I am predisposed toward liking them as friends. It is easy for me to see in them the things I want in my marriage.

I assume, and could be wrong, Kelly may correct me, that because their relationship was stigmatized they tend to have an “us against the world” outlook and a greater appreciation for the gift they have in their partner. *editorial, I could be completely incorrect. For once, I didn’t ask*

Anyway, the point of this post is this… Strong couples make strong marriages. The words “gay marriage” no longer apply. Marriages are marriages. Period. Being around strong marriages strengthens mine. Watching how couples interact teaches me. It doesn’t matter to me how many wives or husbands there are as long as it equals a loving couple. I can learn from any of them.

*****

I also told Kelly I’d write it as long as I could put this on it…

“This post is for Kelly& Shelby, Denise & Beth, Z and all the others that have taught me by their example.” The best teachers are the ones that teach, not with words, but with their lives…