Voices

Amidst the chaos in my head
     Two voices sound the loudest.
Once claims that God has sent him
     To save me from my sins
The other screams He'll save
      me first.
The shouting match echoes
      and reverberates

Amidst the other chaos
      of family, friends and life.
The demon voices tell me
       they will save me
           from myself.

Pieces of Me

I left my heart at home wrapped
     in satin
        and placed in Mom's hope chest.

I tore my soul out of its hiding
     place
         and left it home with Dad.

I shattered hope
     gave it to my sisters
And shredded happiness
     to give to my brothers.

I tore my faith apart
     served it to the angels
And hollowed out the shell of me
     and gave what's left to God.

Now all I have's the shell
     you see
         And that I left for me.

What My Spirit Needs

What is the spirit? Where do we come from? Where are we going? What happens after this life? What is the purpose of this life? As we struggle to answer these questions, either from day to day or at the approach of death, we all come to terms with some aspect of our spirituality. From Hinduism to Buddhism, from Christianity to paganism, or from atheism to Judaism,  humans struggle to find the answers to the questions of life and the afterlife. But the true question that often gets asked is, "Who has the truth? Which religion is the right religion for each one of is? And is there a single religion that contains within it the truth?"

The truth often seems subjective. One truth seems to be more true to one person than it is to another person. I have been raised a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and at the age of eight was baptized, wholly immersed under water and then raised up spiritually cleansed of original sin. I went on a mission to the Tokyo North Mission when I was nineteen and struggled to teach people what I believed to be true. I felt like I was pushing my beliefs onto others and felt I was committing my own kind of sin. I struggled for ten months on my mission (a mission usually is for two years for men), but I felt alone and forsaken during a period of my life that was supposed to bring me closer and closer to God. I, however, felt the furthest away from Him than I have ever felt in my life. I was confused, alone, and just wanted out. I wanted that part of my life to be over, so I took thirty-seven Prozac pills, hoping that someone would listen and praying that the pills wouldn't kill me.

After getting my plane tickets home and living a semi-nomadic life, going from home to home because my parents were on their own mission in Manaus, Brazil, I still felt alone and forsaken. Beside feeling alone, I felt like I was a failure. The one time in my life that I had committed to God and I had failed to stay the whole two years. The weight of guilt on my spirit continued to be weigh on me. I was a sinner and an abomination to God. All I wanted was for life to be over. I just wanted to start over or end it all.

Over the years, I have lost my the faith of my childhood. I have not been to church in a long time and only find myself praying to God when I feel like the world is crashing down around my shoulders. However, in my struggle to find myself in the arms of God, I have looked into other forms of spirituality (Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, etc.) and have still not found that one gospel that feels like home to me. There are parts of Buddhism, Taoism, and Christianity that ring true to me. But how do I take parts of all three and make them central to my beliefs about life, love, and God?

During my search for truth, I was reading from the poetry of Rumi, a thirteenth century poet. In The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks, I discovered there are lots of spiritual metaphors and allegories that began to roll off the pages. In the poem "Moses and the Shepherd," Moses chastises the shepherd because the shepherd gives human qualities to God because "such blasphemous familiarity sounds like/you're chatting with your uncles.../The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed/and wandered out into the desert" (165-66).

After the shepherd abandons his prayers and wanders into the desert, Moses hears God's voice chastising him. God says:

You have separated me/from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite/or to sever?/I have given/each being a separate and unique way/of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge./What seems/wrong to you is right for him./What is poison to one is honey to someone else./Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,/these mean nothing to me./I am apart from all that./Ways of worshiping are not to be ranked as better /or worse than one another./Hindus do Hindu things./The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do./It's all praise, and it's all right./It's not me that's glorified in acts of worship./It's the worshipers! I don't hear the words/they say. I look inside at the humility (166).

God chastised Moses because he took a man from his worship because Moses believed that how the shepherd was worshiping was wrong and he strove to fix the shepherd's wrong worshiping habits. However, to God, it wasn't how the shepherd was worshiping Him, but "it's all praise, and it's all right." God is not looking at how and what the people say when they pray, but He "look[s] inside at the humility" that the worship shows.

When I read "Moses and the Shepherd," I realized that it's not how I worship God, but that I do worship God. It takes humility to turn to someone that you don't know, a higher power, and turn to Him for strength, putting faith in Him no matter how hard life gets. God isn't looking at how I worship him; He is looking at the humility in my heart. So, if I am Christian, Buddhist, Taoist or take properties and teachings from all three, it doesn't matter how I worship. Truth is truth and what might "seem[]/wrong to you is right for [me]" and "What is poison to [you] is honey to [me]." My spirit needs what is right for it and no one else.

Within The Branches

There was a happy, blooming lilac bush that grew in the front yard of the first house I lived in. The lilac bush stood tall in front of the house next to the driveway and next to the free flowing ditch, in which I spent many Summer days splashing myself and my siblings. The cool water caressed my skin and while cooling me off, was feeding my happy lilac bush. Six weeks of the year, the lilacs blossomed and filled the air with their sweet fragrance like sugar in the air. I used to rush toward them and pick some of the flowers, inhaling their fragrance like it was the only thing worth smelling and feeling the velvet caress of the flowers against my face. The beautiful purple hues danced with the wind as the wind played its springtime harmonies among the leaves and the blossoms.

There was a hiding hole within the arms of the lilac bush that protected me from being the first one caught in hide-n-seek because the full leaves and flowers blocked me from view; however, after a while, everyone caught on and knew that I was hiding within the safe confines of my favorite lilac bush. Sooner than later, I had to find a new place to hide. Though, occasionally, I returned to my friend and her loving embrace.

Within the branches, I was the discoverer of a new world. The insects I saw climbing the branches and crawling along the ground were the inhabitants and I was a giant that came to keep watch over them. The red ants marched along the branches and leaves, cutting off small pieces of leaves with their pincers and carrying their heavy load down to their queen and to the hive. The shiny black and red ladybug spread its wings and flew from my grasp as I tried to watch it climb all over my hand. The birds became angels that danced from branch to branch singing their hymns of praise and thanks. The robins with their red breasts waltzed through the air and the branches occasionally stopping on the Earth to pull a worm from the Earth's embrace. They were beautiful creatures that were lucky enough to be able to inhabit the world within my world.

Within the branches of my friend, I felt safe and didn't have a care in the world. I sat in the middle of her branches and daydreamed. I mingled with her leaves and looked out at the clouds floating high above me creating shapes and creatures of cotton. I talked with her blossoms and sang with the wind when it broke through her shelter; the gusts of wind whispered its notes in my ear.

I miss my old friend. I wonder if she is still standing tall in front of my old house or if she was cut down to make way for widening sidewalks or roads. I wonder if nature took her back through erosion and decay. Deep down, though, I hope that she is still standing. I hope that she is giving some new adventurer or observer the protection she once gave me. I hope that her fragrance still fills the air and her blossoms still give color to the spring. I hope that some young one has found solace withing her embrace, within her branches.

"I'm Me. Pretty Classy."

I owe special thanks and apologies to Dr. John Goshert, Utah Valley University professor, for introducing me to Faggots. The apology is for not being brave enough to read this book in public when I had the free time. The cover has the profile of a naked man bent over and the title is Faggots. The fear kept me from reading the book for fear of what others might think. So, thanks to Dr. Goshert for assigning this book for the class to read for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) Literature class and sorry for not reading it when I was given the chance.

In the novel Faggots written by Larry Kramer, he writes, "Now it's time to just be. Just like I have [hazel] eyes. I'm here. I'm not gay. I'm not a fairy. I'm not a fruit. I'm not queer. A little crazy maybe. And I'm not a faggot. I'm a Homosexual Man. I'm Me. Pretty Classy" (361). I read these lines two months ago. Faggots has inspired me in so many ways, especially towards the end of the book when Fred Lemish gets this "aha" moment. The novel gave me my own "aha" moment.

I have been labeling myself as gay since I was thirteen years old. I saw this part of myself and was disgusted with it. I heard, over and over, the disgust and hatred that others felt for me when they called me a "fairy," "faggot," "queer," or "fruit." I felt and internalized that disgust and compounded that disgust with what an abomination I felt  i was when discussing homosexuality in church. I have seen myself in that light since I was thirteen years old. Imagine the toll that took on my teenage mind.

However, as I read the words of Fred Lemish via Larry Kramer, I've begun to erase such negative thoughts and see myself as "Me. Pretty Classy." I am a good person who also happens to be homosexual. It's hard to try to re-write my own views of myself, but since I can't change what others think, I can change myself and what I think.

Fred Lemish also says, "What I want is better though! No. Just different. I'm going to have enough trouble changing myself. Can't change everyone else too. Can't change those who don't want to change. I want to change. I must change myself. Allow myself something better...Be strong enough for Me. I feel better (362). I am making this a personal mantra to "Be strong for Me" and tell myself "I love you" five times. The world is a harsh enough place for everyone. Why should I continue the cycle and add to the harshness by making myself less than me. "Pretty classy" is what I am and nothing less. I'll start changing me and that will make the difference. 

Nothing to Fear?...Or is There?

Fear is my own personal manager. Fear manages what I say and do because the fear of hurting or offending someone reigns in my mind. I am a passive aggressive person and I think, beside being my personality flaw, I am a passive aggressive because of this fear. "What if someone is offended? You probably shouldn't say that." "What if someone's feelings get hurt? You probably shouldn't write that." Also, "What kind of example are you setting? You probably shouldn't do that." These kinds of sayings or one-sided conversations resound in my mind.

Fear has kept me silent and that same fear of hurting, disappointing, frustrating, destroying, etc., keeps me lying. The lies just flow out of my mouth unpracticed and unbidden, but they naturally flow out of me because I don't want to hurt anyone. Lying has become habitual because of the closet I lived in for so long. I didn't want people to reject me because I was gay, so I lied. I put on the fake facade and lived life with two masks; one mask I wore for the public and one mask I wore in public.

 I tell lies and omit truths because I don't want to hurt and I don't want to be hurt. I have protected my heart for so many years and the shell of my heart is hard to break. Some closest to my heart have hurt it before. When I finally allowed myself to come out to family and friends as gay, when I was twenty-five, some of them didn't take it as well as others and said some things that have scarred me. Being compared to pedophiles and people who sleep with their animals (bestiality) is not the most welcoming and loving things to be compared to and made me cry. I was very hurt, so I lie to keep this from happening again.

I lie to others to survive and hope that we don't come to a confrontation; I fear confrontation. I don't want to have to confront anyone, but this is mostly because at the height of my emotions in a confrontation, I feel like my words escape me and my voice goes missing. I often end up not communicating correctly what I feel or want to say. Then, I feel like I can't breathe, so I lie.

How do you learn to stop letting fear and lies control your life? It's a serious question which I don't have the answer for. Fear and lies have been with me so long, they are almost second nature to me. They are part of the flawed personality that I have created over the years. How do you change things second nature? Do you start "one day at a time?" Is there a Liars Anonymous group I can go to? Or is it not a fixable malady like malignant cancer that wasn't caught in time and just takes over, becoming the ruler that kills its host? All I know is that if it is cancerous, I have to find a way to rip it out and keep it out so that my relationships can become stronger and last longer. But how?

I Dream Dreams

In honor of Martin Luther King Jr.,  a great man who was one of the spearheads of the Civil Rights Movement and gave his life for that movement, I have been given a chance this month to dream my own dreams. I have seen the great movings of progress in our nation once again and I've seen the efforts to stifle that movement, keeping the progress stagnant; I have seen great movements for the progress to move backward. I have seen heads held high with pride and heads hidden in fear and shame. I have seen pain and have seen joy. Through it all, I have seen dreamers continually dreaming. So, I too have dreams.

I have a dream that one day marriage will not be determined by which sex you marry, but by the love you share. I have a dream that love be demonstrated from coast to coast through simple and big acts. I have a dream that my children and future generations will be able to show the world that who they love is not something of which to be ashamed. I have a dream that with their partners' hands in theirs, they can walk with heads held high and show the world how deep their love is.

I have a dream that people will identify one another as human beings and not place each other in identifiable boxes that separate each of us, rather than unify us. I have a dream that we can each share the aspects of ourselves rather than hide in the dark closets we have built for ourselves. I have a dream that with heads held high, people can be proud of who they are and not hide in shame and fear.

I have a dream that each child can walk to school without fear of violence and without fear of being bullied. Schools should be places for learning, not fearing and hiding. I have a dream that students feel like they have a place to go where their opinions matter and they are accepted for who they are and not in what box they have been identified. I have a dream that fear does not play a part in their lives.

I have a dream that the men and women who serve this country will continue to protect us, but that they will come home safe from a war that seems so futile. I dream a dream of peace and life free from corruption. I dream a dream of love over hate; love becoming the ruler of our minds and hearts. I dream of safe schools and zero tolerance for violence and bullying. I dream of peace and love. I continue dreaming dreams.