There Was a Time, But Times Change

There was a time in my life when I would wake up everyday feeling like the world was crushing me under its thumb. I felt like with every step I took I was being pulled into the quicksand of life. During these times of my life, I would pray to God, everyday, to take me home, to crush me under a rock, or run me over with a car. I would beg for everything to be over with. I couldn't stand being. With every breath I breathed, I felt my lungs burn inside of me. Every time I looked at myself, I would sneer in hateful derision. I was nothing and I felt that that nothingness needed to be snuffed out. And there were times, when God didn't answer me, I tried to take the life and snuff it out for myself. I wanted my light to stop shining.

There were times in my life, from the time I was thirteen years old to barely six months ago, that life seemed to be burdened with my existence in it. But something has happened to me. I am not sure, as I have written many times before, what has happened. The abyss no longer craves the blood that flows through me and the darkness is quelled by the light that shines in my song, my voice, and in the words that bleed from my veins. I have changed, though probably not in the way that my family has thought the change would come.

Years ago, I was talking to my mother about life and the challenges that plagued me. I was talking about the darkness that surrounded me. (I know the pain that I felt was felt by my mom; she and I have always been so close. The closeness must stem from the bond that she and I have shared since my conception. I would call my mom one of my best friends and I think she would agree with me.) During our conversation, she told me of an experience she had while she was praying. She said she was praying for me and praying that I would be okay; she said she was praying that I would find joy in life. And she said she received an answer to her prayer. She said she heard that I would be okay; she knew that I would be happy and find joy because of the answer to her prayer.

She and I, however, have different interpretations of the answer to her prayer. She knows that the answer means that I will come back to the church, marry in the temple, and find joy in raising a family. While that is a very beautiful interpretation of the answer to her prayer, I have told her on different occasions that that answer doesn't mean I will no longer be gay. I have told her that my joy in life may reside in something other than how she and my dad have found their joy in love and marriage in the temple.

No matter the true answer to the interpretation of the answer to her prayer, I believe I have started to walk the path that will lead me to be "okay." I know the path I walk on is taking me to joy and love and peace. God is answering my mom's prayer. Life is taking me down a path that I don't know the end to; of course, I don't know that there is an end, but life has me walking down this path and my head is held high. The days of wanting God to crush me under His thumb feel years behind me. The times, when I wished for life to take the energy and the body it had given me and snuff out the light in me, seem to be just figments of illusion.

These days, I walk with my candle burning bright for the world to see. A smile comes easily to my face. A laugh leaps to my throat for all to hear. A song resides in my breast and sings for all to hear. A spark of life dances in my eyes like the twinkling light of the stars at night for all to witness. These days, though I know death is coming, I don't rush headlong into the fray hoping for death to take me. These days laughter is what I crave. Love is what I need. And life is the most exciting and brilliant adventure that I find myself racing with to a brighter everyday. Namaste.

I Am Second Class No More

Tonight, something happened that has forced me to evaluate my standing in the bubble in which I live. Mind you, tonight's event was not the first time I have been forced to see life and my placement in it, but it was the catalyst to make me want to change my standing.

I was at some friends' apartment and we were just sitting around hanging out. One of my friends received a text saying their other friends, co-workers, were coming over. The other friend told me that I wasn't going to get along with one of the people that was coming over, so we should go somewhere else; however, I like to think I am a tolerant person. I was wrong unfortunately.

It all started out just fine, but then the phrase that makes me angry was thrown around; "That's so gay" was used one time too many and I got up and put my shoes one. I walked toward the door and said, "Ya'll need to realize that there are gay people in the world." I opened the door and slammed it behind me.

I should have listened to my friend when he told me I wasn't going to get along with their other friends. However, as I thought about it, I was brought to the conclusion that my energy and those two people's energies needed to meet. We needed to come together and clash. My outburst needed to happen because they were not taking into account the many different kinds of people that exist. They weren't taking into account that saying "that's so gay" is derogatory and hurtful. Although it is a colloquial way of saying something is stupid, it is substituting the way a person identifies themselves for something that someone considers stupid or dumb. Those two men needed to understand that and I needed to stand up and say something.

I have stood by for much of my life, being the whipping boy. I have stood quietly as other students have called me fag, faggot, queer and, yes, gay. I have refused to be confrontational and, in refusing to stand up, have simply continued on in my role and my standing as the whipping boy. I have refused to say anything to my family, to my friends, to co-workers, and to complete strangers. In doing so, I have refused to stand up and say that I am equal. I am more than just a joke. I am more than a homosexual. I am more than the man you see (or don't see, as is the case with my blog) standing before you and wanting to be noticed. I am more than skin and bones. I am more than just emotion. I am more.

In my life with my family, now, my life consists of work and solely that. I used to be a student and, therefore, they were able to add one aspect to my life to the small talk when they asked how I was doing. I remember a time, quite vividly, when I went with my little brother to see my grandma. We were sitting in the living room of her apartment near the St. George temple. Stephen sat in one chair and I sat in another. Grandma turned to me and asked me, "How is work?" and then followed it up with, "How is school?" After I responded, she turned directly to my little brother and said, "How is dating life? Are you dating anybody new?"

It was a direct slap in the face. I knew that my life would never be the same the day I told my family I was gay, but I didn't know that knowledge of my life would be limited to work and school. I didn't realize I would never be asked about people I was dating. I didn't realize I would become a second class member of our family.

When I was visiting my brother and his family in Eagle Mountain, we were contemplating watching a TV series with James Roday in it. One of my nieces came up to me and said, "Micah, do you know James Roday?" I told her that I knew of him. She then asked me if the actor was dating his co-star, the female detective. I told her that I wasn't sure, but that I didn't think so. She then got a serious look on her face. She said, "Is he --?" I knew what she wanted to ask me, but waited for her to finish her question. She looked at her feet, stomped and said, "Is He G-A-Y?" She couldn't bring herself to say the word. I told her that I didn't know, but then said, "You know, you can say the word." She told me she couldn't bring herself to say it and she had a look of disgust on her face. It hurt.

I know she is still very young. But I also know she knows what is going on in the world. I know she knows what the LDS church teaches their congregations about homosexuality and about being tolerant of us. However, I know the feeling she is feeling towards gay people because at one time in my life, I felt the same way. It took me years of realizing for myself who I am and learning to love myself rather than hate myself that I could understand life.

I try to understand the reasoning behind my family not wanting to know about my dating men, but my understanding does nothing to soften the blow in the moments when I am reminded of my status within the family social grouping. I am reminded in these moments that I am second class. I am reminded of my path to hell in their eyes. I am reminded that because I am gay, I will be separated, per their beliefs, in the life to come; they will be in the Celestial kingdom of heaven and I don't know where I will be. I will have a second class status in the afterlife as well.

I understand that, living in Utah Valley and Utah state, I am second class. I am an outcast. I am a black sheep. I understand people don't understand homosexuality except in the context the Bible has given to them to understand it as a sin and an abomination. I understand that, because of that naivety and that lack of understanding and tolerance, the people have a hard time seeing that people that are unlike them exist. Because of this lack of knowledge, they make comments that offend and hurt, and, though their comments may not be of the intent to hurt, it does not negate the fact that it still does hurt.

Tonight, however, I am deciding to take a stand on being silent and refusing to let the world (and myself) see me and other homosexual people as a second class citizen. I am refusing to let people use "that's so gay" in place of something that is meant to mean stupid. I am standing up for me and people like me. I will not be a second class family member and I will not be a second class citizen. I will stand up and I will say, "I am here too."

I don't deserve to feel second class anymore and neither does anyone else in the world. We are equal and we should treat each other as equals. Abraham Lincoln said, in the Gettysburg Address, "Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal." Let us not treat our neighbors, friends, family members, or complete strangers as second class citizens because "all men are created equal." Namaste.

Finding Comfort and Joy in Sangha and Dharma: A Prayer of Hope for my Loved Ones

It is a true act of love and support for any one of us to do the opposite of what we currently believe to show support for what our loved ones believe. Today, I am blessed to be tested in my support of my nephew who, at the age of eight, is being baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My own views of life and spirituality have shifted from the days of my childhood. Life has given me a different way to see the world and the way I see organized religion. However, as I talk about my own disdain for organized religion, I see the need for the community of belief and faith.

In Buddhism, the community is called the sangha and is a necessity for the seeds of faith and belief to grow and flourish. It is a place that is meant to share, communicate, and discuss the teachings and beliefs or the dharma of those who went before us. So, this test for me to enter, or re-enter, the Mormon sangha is an immense test, but I love my nephew; I have decided that in spite of my own beliefs, he is important and I would rather he believe in something than wander in a darkness of disbelief and confusion. I am happy for him though I no longer fully believe as he believes.

As I sit here in support, I am trying to remember how I used to believe and I am trying to remember the day that I was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. But memory escapes my grasp. My parents and one of my sisters say they remember my confirmation. They say I must have really been feeling the Spirit of God because I was weeping and they have never seen an eight year old cry like I was. It makes me wonder what feelings I was really feeling that day. I wonder if it was the Spirit or if it was something else entirely. Like I said, however, memory remains a fog of forgetfulness and mystery; the mystery, I suppose, will forever remain.

In spite of my lack of memory and my disdain of organized religion, I have a deep residing hope today that my nephew may retain his memories of this time and I have a hope that the God he believes in, as his Heavenly Father, will keep the promises given my nephew in the form of blessing, given to him through my brother. I have a hope that he can continue to believe and live a life that is free of suffering and pain. I know we all suffer, but may his and all my other nieces and nephews' lives be as free of pain and suffering as possible. May their lives be full of the promised joy and happiness through their beliefs and hopes. And may they be blessed with their memories, so they may walk through those memories with constant remembrance, free from the foggy banks of mystery. Finally, I hope they embrace the sangha and the dharma of the Church and may the dharma and the sangha of the Church embrace them back, keeping them in that embrace. Namaste.

Write On: Writing for the Pleasure and Joy of Writing

"I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think." These are the words of Rumi, a poet and Sufi mystic. As I contemplate what he said and I ponder my writing, I wonder what are my true intentions in writing. Is it the pure joy of writing, not caring who reads it or what someone reads? Or do I want to be heard,  editing what I say so that people will read it and understand?

I was just thinking about why I write the other day; I was asking myself why I keep writing if so very few read what I am writing. Truth be told, I think my ego is seeking the notoriety of being a writer, a philosopher, and a free thinker. My ego is seeking recognition for the things it thinks up. So, I, for a time, have been writing to appease my over-inflated ego.

Now, however, as I think about Rumi's quotation, I want to be like the bird and, instead of singing (though singing may be just as cathartic as my writing), I want to write for the pure joy I find in the release of frustrations, anger, stresses, negative emotions, love, joy, and other positive emotions. I want to write what needs to be written for the healing release of emotion and pure thought energy. I want to write as though I don't care who is reading it and without a care as to what they think about my content within my penned words.

There are people I have heard state that laughter is the best medicine and, while I agree with this statement because there is nothing like a good laugh, I would add that there is nothing like the cathartic and medicinal release of scripted and penned words in the release of emotion (positive or negative) in a harmonious and non-violent way. The written and harmonious words can lift and enlighten not only the writer, but it can also give release and awareness to those who happen to stumble on your words.

To Rumi's words of " I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think," I would add that although the bird may not care who its audience is or what they think, the harmonious song the bird sings affects the listener in ways the listener may not have expected. The same can be said about the writer; he/she may not care for the who or the what, but the reader may become affected by the words and continue on with their day in heightened states of thinking and being. So, I say, "Singer sing on. Dancer dance on. And writer write on." Namaste.

Miracles: Looking at the Smaller Things in Life to Continue Living

Thich Nhat Hanh writes, in his book True Love, "We are surrounded by miracles, but we have to recognize them; otherwise there is no life" (16). Miracles are everywhere we look; however, they do not always look like the miracles of Christ that are mentioned in the New Testament. Thich Nhat Hanh is suggesting that miracles are everywhere. However, how can you see the small miracles that are everywhere, when you are only looking for the grand miracles?

I have spent quite a lot of my life praying to God for a specific miracle. I have wanted God to kill me or make me different, make me not attracted to guys. I have felt deficient and broken since I was thirteen. And I have prayed for a miracle to change me and make me normal. I didn't want to be gay. I didn't want to be a rainbow colored crow in a murder of black crows. I craved the normalcy that was given to everyone else.

In looking for the grand miracle of transformation and correction, I stopped being; I stopped living life. I was looking for the change which wouldn't come. I ignored the simple miracles of life that surrounded me and shrugged of the miracles that infused the air I took in to sustain me. The simplicity of life escaped my view because my focus was on bigger and grander events.

I looked past the miracle of the heart that continues to beat within my chest. I couldn't see that with every breath I took in I was part of the miracle of life. I looked passed the flowers that bloomed, the trees that continue to grow, and the miracle of love that continued to evade my gaze. All of these miracles and many more went unseen because of the pure distaste for the man I am.

I know that the miracles of life flow within me and continues to make me a miracle. I am acknowledging the little miracles in my life and in so doing, I am living life and appreciating every rainbow colored facet that is me. I still encounter moments when the grand miracle of transformation and correction is all I can look for, and those moments when I  hate the man I see in the mirror. However, as I see the small, everyday miracles, I can take deep breaths and I can live my life of rainbow colored splendor, seeing the small and beautiful miracles life has to offer. Namaste.

My Rainbow Colored Puzzle Piece: Where Does I Fit in the Puzzle?

Have you ever tried to fit your puzzle piece into a puzzle, but everywhere you place it the puzzle piece doesn't fit? This is the conundrum of my life. I have yet to find the what and the how for my puzzle piece to fit. I feel like I am so different from my family puzzle and the world puzzle that I often am crooked or a boarder piece that only helps to form the puzzle, but doesn't actually aide in the picture that is created.

My place in the puzzle of life has yet to be determined. I remain a mundane piece that is far from illuminating. My location in the puzzle can't seem to be found. Jobs, purpose, love, etc. All apparently meaningful things in life are left with holes and missing pieces.

However, as I contemplate my rainbow colored puzzle piece, I know that at some point I will discover where, in this kaleidoscope puzzle of life, my piece will fit. I just need to continue on the paths I have chosen; although, they sometimes seem to have chosen me.

My future is obscured by the chaos of choice and my past is fragmentary and elusive. My here and now is clear, colorful, and beautiful. My puzzle piece may not connect and may seem out of sorts at this precise moment, but such is the chaotic nature of life. I will find connection. I will find my place and my fit...eventually. Namaste.

The Middle Way: Finding Balance in the Chaotic

I think it's time to find the "Middle way" again and find the balance to re-stabilize my life. I am running into walls and tearing up over nothing more often than I should be. So, I think its time to seek my center again because when I am centered and living in the now I am able to shrug things off and not let them affect me.

The "Middle Way" is the harmonious balance and avoiding the extremes in life. The balances on my scales are continually shifting and changing; they are far from harmonious right now. The difficulty is finding what is causing the shifts and avoiding them or finding their cure. But how do you find balance in a world of chaos and disturbances? I'm finding it difficult to breathe in everyday situations. I'm not sure what is the cause of the chaos and the constrictions in me, making it hard to breathe.

I think that the biggest thing for me that is causing the chaos and imbalance is my friendship. When terse and one-worded responses make the most of the conversations we share, I fear that that is all dissolving into nothingness and an abyss. I am trying my hardest to not let this push me away, but I don't know how to fix when I don't know what has broken. How can you fix a problem when the problem remains unspoken and/or avoided?

Is it time to find a new place to live? I have changed my work schedule so that my friend doesn't have to see me at home as well as at work. But is it now time for me to completely leave the house? I don't know if I am just over-analyzing the situation and not allowing for outside sources of chaos. I don't know if, in my over-analysis, I am doing everything in my unconscious power to break what isn't broken.

Herein lies my current state of suffering: because I am not allowing the transitory nature of life, even in regards to friendships, I am craving control of the situations and my relationships. In so doing, I suffer because I want nothing to change. But everything is changing whether I want it to or not. Also, because I seek control of the chaos, even though the control I seek is not possible, I am going to continue suffering until I can relinquish control and accept the transitory nature of life.

To the universe, then, I say, "I accept the chaos all around me and my lack of control of the chaos. I will release my desires for control because I know the control is an illusion and I am incapable of controlling the chaos. I accept the transitory nature of life and I will accept the inevitability of change. I will live in this moment and accept it as it is. I will live and be." Namaste.