Have You Seen Me?

What has happened to friendship?  When did true friendship suddenly go missing?  In the era of Facebook-fueled disposable relationships, I can't help but ask myself... Are real friendships becoming a thing of the past?   

I've always been pretty selective with who I call "friend".  I believe it is a title that should be earned rather than hastily bestowed upon someone.  For this reason, I have few close friends.  I'm OK with that though.  I've had even fewer best friends in my lifetime.  I've lost two so far.  The first was because of my coming out.  That was fun...fun like surgery with no anesthesia.  The second...I'm still trying to figure out what happened there.   

Just a few short months ago, I experienced my second ride on the severed friendship boat.  Someone I cared about deeply and for whom I'd have done anything suddenly sent me a Dear John text.  There was no opportunity for me to address issues or fix what I could.  There was no warning.  There was just a text full of words and thoughts that lacked any love or compassion.  Apparently, this friend could only exist in the sunshine and fair weather.  I guess he didn't have the stomach to endure thunderstorms and hurricanes.  This loss, like the last one, was equally devastating.  I was left confused and deeply hurt.  I had been there for this person through the worst time of their life; and I never once bailed.  I never once ended the friendship.  Why?  Because I believe true friendship and love transcends circumstances, and distance, and life's storms.  I believe that friendship doesn't always have to be perfect or comfortable.  I believe that two people should be able to respect each other and honor their relationship as friends no matter the circumstances.  Sure, shit happens.  People make mistakes.   There are trying times for everyone.  A real friend, however, should be able to see through the storm.  To put it bluntly, any fucking idiot should understand that storms don't last forever.  

Then today, I learned that someone I love dearly lost their best friend to similar foolishness.  I hurt so badly for him.  I remember what it feels like to have your heart ripped out through your ass with the realization that someone you thought was your best friend, really wasn't at all.  This was the last straw for me.  

I have had it with this culture of disposable friendships...where if the person doesn't exactly reflect our interests, ideals, beliefs, goals, or comfort level, we simply toss them out like moldy bread.  When did this become the norm?  When did people become so weak and cowardly that they can't even withstand the high winds of life?  I wish more than anything this wasn't the case.  I hate that people seem to be forgetting the meaning of true friendship.  Pop culture sites like Facebook have fooled people into thinking that sharing your every bowel movement online is friendship.  This has translated into our actual friendships now.  We unfriend people in an instant.  I feel like it's becoming harder and harder for people to distinguish between Facebook and real life.  Will true friendship  remain on the milk carton or will it be plucked from the clutches of its captor - complacency? 

The Bottom Line:

The next time the storms hit and you think of turning your back on someone you call a friend, consider this...  Is it really the right call to cut this person from your life or are you just being a giant bag of flaccid dicks?

Spring Forward

It's a beautiful fall day here in Texas.  My mind is on over-drive with thoughts of my future and of change.  About three months ago, I took my customary yearly birthday vacation.  This year's destination was Denver.  Leading up to this vacation, I'd been under tremendous and unrelenting stress from a major work project.  Most of my days were structured around the needs and desires of those driving the project.  My life wasn't my own.  By the time I got on the plane and headed out, I was in desperate need of down-time.

I've visited Denver only one other time.  That was during my college years.  When I was a very young child, my mom, step-dad, and I lived in Aurora for about two years.  I have memories of me playing in the snow, digging in the yard and finding bones, my mom and dad's gold Buick.  To this day, I can close my eyes and mentally walk through the apartment from room to room and remember every single thing and it's place.  A piece of Colorado has always remained within me... sleeping... waiting...hiding even.  This trip would change all that.

I spent the next eight days, wandering around the streets of Downtown Denver with little to no agenda.  I ate when I wanted.  I slept when I wanted.  I socialized when I wanted.  I was alone when I wanted.  It was simply amazing.  It's hard to describe the change which occurred in me during this trip; but I'll certainly try.  For the first time in a very long time, I felt at home.  I felt at peace.  I saw myself walking along the streets of Downtown well beyond my time there.  It's as if I'd literally bumped into myself while exploring the neighborhoods.

Once I was home, I couldn't shake this feeling that suddenly, I was a fish out of water.  All at once I no longer belonged where I'd always been.  It's a strange feeling to get on a plane headed home only to be certain you're leave your home behind.  I pondered the direction of my life for the next few weeks.  The Virgo in me tried desperately to explain away everything I was feeling.  The Virgo was not ready for the fight that my heart was about to put up.  My heart was in Denver.  My heart chose not to check in for my flight back to Texas.  My heart was still wandering the streets of Denver.  My heart put in a change of address.

As I lie on my couch one weekend, it finally became clear.  My life is not quite what I want it to be.  I've allowed myself to believe that the life I have is all I deserve.  I've tricked myself into believing that playing it safe is always the best course.  I've lied to myself about what I need and want during this short time I'm here with the rest of those on this planet.  I've accepted that at my age, it's time to drastically scale back on the dreaming.   "Who is this person?", I asked.  At what point did it simply become OK to exist?

The answers:  A person who has let life's pain scare the living shit out of him.  And, it's NOT OK to simply exist.

That's when I made the decision to move to Denver in the spring of 2015.  So with this, I've begun taking steps to get things in order.  While I don't have everything worked out just yet, Virgo is working hard to help make it happen.  And yeah, Virgo is finally putting his amazing talents to work for something that the Heart wants.  When those two work together, anything is possible.

The Bottom Line:  I know you probably thought I was going to get through this entire moment without addressing the fact that I've been absent from writing for over a year now.  For those who have been reading, you know I face everything head on; for better or worse.  I guess my heart just needed some time to find the right path again.  Sometimes when you spend to much time "talking" you can't hear the quiet pleadings of the heart for the noise of your mind.  I took that time to remain quiet and wait.  Here's what I learned...

You can either dream about your dreams or simply go live them.  While the path to your dreams may be filled with everything from tragedy to ecstasy, at least be on that path.  Don't let life's pain and practicality color grey what should be full of bright colors.  Resist the temptation to let people or circumstances convince you that you should be happy living in eternal Winter when there are three other seasons for you to experience.  There's a time to fall back; and there's a time to spring forward.

Don't ignore the spring.

Trash Bag

For those of you who've been taking out the trash since you were a kid like I have been; you will probably recall the many struggles you had trying to get the oftentimes overstuffed plastic bag to break free from the trash can.  Ahhh the good ole days...torn handles, ripped bags, the things you spent all week shoving into the dark have now spilled out on the floor for all to see.  What's worse is that many times you were not only forced to SEE all your gross trash, but also forced to touch it after it has become decomposed and slimy!  I found myself nearly thrust back to those very moments this morning.  While half asleep, I thought to myself, "now would be a great time to take out the trash".  Who does that?  At any rate, there I was trying to pry out a bloated bag of trash from what seemed like a trash can that didn't want to say goodbye just yet.  Then as the sleepy fog shifted just a bit, I remembered that if you just lift up on the bag slowly and kind of just hold the bag and can up in the air just a bit...then pause; the can will usually just slide off on its own.  It's not a method for the impatient (which I can be), but highly effective for avoiding a trashy debacle. 

This, of course, got me thinking.  Because why wouldn't trash inspire me at the crack of dawn?  Isn't that like life?  Over the years we get stuffed with trash...bad choices, bad exes, bad habits, bad ideas, bad clothes, bad behavior, or bad hair days.  Life's trash bag gets swollen and bloated to the point that the walls of our being or soul become tightly pressed up against it.  Most of us will take out the trash from time to time, but how effective are we at managing our trash?  

Do we cram all our trash in until we can't anymore, then forcefully try to rip it out in a hurry?  Perhaps, we end up having to remove some of the trash and place it in another bag so we can somehow manage to get it out.  Or just maybe some of us turn the whole can over in an attempt to free ourselves of the trash in our lives.  Worse yet, perhaps we just leave the trash, hoping that someone else will take it out for us.  In my moment of sleepy diligence, I was reminded that a little patience and planning go a long way.  

The Bottom Line:
When it comes to life's trash, don't let your trash get too full in the first place.  Take your trash out regularly.  Don't try to rip it out too fast and risk spilling your trash all over the place. Don't expect other to take out your trash.  And for god's sake...don't take out your trash while you are half asleep!  

The Dark Side of the Moon

It's a cool Saturday in a city just outside Atlanta.  I'm sitting in a hotel room trying to figure out how I'm going to write the words that will follow this sentence.  I'm all about giving my readers the moment and the truth; but this promises to be one of the more difficult things that I've written.

A few days prior to my 30th birthday, life was good.  I had a huge birthday bash planned.  My boyfriend at the time was handling all the arrangements.  I even had a decent and balanced perspective on turning 30.  I had managed to avoid wanting to hang myself from the ceiling fan or the shower rod because I was "getting old".  Other than being a little under the weather, I was doing well.  I decided to go see my family doctor for a check-up.  In general, I felt great so I didn't think much of it.  I'd always go in on a weekday, mid-morning, and always get my check-up results back the very next afternoon.  They were very efficient that way.

The following day, I called in for my results.  The blood work was still in a pending status.  The next day was the same.  On the third day, I spoke to my very favorite nurse over the phone.  She wasn't her usual outrageous and playful self.  Her voice was quiet and troubled.  She said, "Honey, when can you come in to see the doctor?".  Not being one to drag my feet, I made an appointment.  While she didn't tell me anything over the phone, I somehow knew what was unfolding before me.  About five days passed before I was able to make it in for my appointment.   I went alone.  My nurse and doctor came into the room and told me something that would change my life forever.  "David, we ran all your standard blood work.  You tested positive for HIV."  The words just hung there like a London fog.  My favorite nurse held my hand as tears rolled down my face.  The doctor began explaining the next steps but most of his words were just washed away with my tears.  

I've only ever cried so much one other time in my life.  I honestly don't remember the days in between the news and telling my boyfriend.  I was a mess on the inside.  Some who already know my story, have said that I am a remarkably strong person.  I don't really feel strong, but then again, this kind of strength is not the kind that advertises itself with fanfare.

I guess I decided to share this very personal part of my life for a few reasons.  As with any major life trial, one can feel desperate and alone.  I wouldn't wish the feelings I experienced during that time on anyone.  I've refrained from telling many people because of the stigma that goes along with having HIV.  I wish people were more educated but as with many things in life, until it affects you, you pay it no attention.  So, after making my way out of the "I'm gay" closet, I felt forced into yet another.

Here is what I'd like you all to take away from this moment that I've shared with you...

For those of you who have been diagnosed... You are not alone!  Find someone to talk to; perhaps a professional or a friend you can trust.  Don't go through this alone.  This hurts in a way that does not compare to many things.  Know that when the dust settles on your diagnosis, you will feel like living again.  You will thrive.  You will feel loved again.  Walk toward the light and know that while it may take some time to feel...normal...that time will come.

For those who don't know much about HIV or AIDS...  Google it.  Talk about it.  Understand it.  Life is entirely too short to think it couldn't happen to you or someone that you love.  You should also know that it's no longer a death sentence!  Provided I can reduce my road-rage, I will outlive most of those reading this...trust and believe!  You must understand how it's contracted, how to prevent it, and how to support those in your life who have it.  Stop being afraid of what you don't understand and  dispense with falling back on ignorance as an excuse for poor attitudes.

The Bottom Line:
At one time, having HIV felt like being on the dark side of the moon.  I was lonely and isolated.  I felt the cold of mortality creeping in.  Honestly, I felt like trash.  It felt like the end of dating.  It felt like the end of love and happiness.  It felt like the end of my life.  Once the fog lifted and I made the choice to educate myself and to keep on living; I was able to see that nothing could be further from the truth.  Have things changed?  Of course!  It has taken me a great deal of time, but I am finally finding the purpose in all this.  I hope that my story will inspire you to approach yourself and others with love and compassion.  HIV positive or not, we are all going through something and could benefit from the light of love.


Click here to learn about HIV.

Groundhog Day

Human behavior is a very curious and ridiculous thing.  As children, we learn tough lessons about touching hot surfaces. We touch a hot pan or place our hand in the oven and instantly learn that we shouldn't touch things that are too hot. When I was growing up, I learned that if I talked back to my mother, I'd get my ass whipped.  The pain of the spanking was enough to keep me on the straight and narrow most days.  

When it comes to love and life in general, things tend to be remarkably different. We can make the same mistakes over and over and over again and we keep going right back for more.  We can even be privy to the past experiences of others and we couldn't care less.  Cautionary tales and sorted horror stories aren't even enough to prevent us from heading face-first into life's "brick walls".   

I've been told my entire life... "Everyone has to make their own mistakes."  As I get older, I can't help but ask... Why?  Why do we have to make our own mistakes?  Why don't we learn from the proof that is right before our eyes?  Is it arrogance?  Maybe we think that we are above making the same miscalculations that our predecessors did.  Perhaps it's a sense of inevitability that we give in to...I'm going to screw up anyway so why not?

As stupid as the notion that everyone HAS to make mistakes sounds, it seems to be some sort of "law" of nature.  I'm learning though, that there is a fine line between making your own mistakes and being fully engaged in your very own Groundhog Day.  

The Bottom Line:  As Samantha Jones from Sex and the City says: Have fun, just don't have amnesia.  Being doomed to repeat history is not the only option.  Perhaps we should walk the path of the shepherd rather than that of the sheep. 

Take a Brake

My Car's Brake Pad

(In my best Golden Girl Sophia Petrillo voice)  Picture it... Friday, September 14...I'm making my way to the park for my 3 mile run.  I pull up to my normal parking space and try to come to a stop.  My foot (and brake pedal) hit the floor.  My car keeps rolling.  Luckily, I wasn't going fast and there was nothing in front of me.  I was able to come to a stop using my emergency brake.  When my brake pedal hit the floor, I heard something that sounded like metal hit the ground.  I'd find out later it was my brake pad (shown above) or what was left of it anyway.  

I spent the entire weekend trapped in the house.  My mechanic was not available until Monday.  I had all sorts of plans.  They were all promptly canceled. I spent the entire weekend confined to my home like Lindsay Lohan or Martha Stewart (minus the sexy ankle bracelet).  In the hours that passed, I think I did more cleaning, organizing, and DVD watching than I'd done in the entire last year.  

During this sequestration, I also had way too much time to think.  It was painful at times.  In the week following the brake pad incident, I couldn't help but notice how rusty and greasy and gross it was (yes, I kept it lying around on my desk...don't judge me!).  To me, it looked exactly how that weekend at home felt.  Then it kind of clicked... The "brake break" was a good thing!  I'd finally come to realize that I needed that weekend.  I needed that moment for my world to stop spinning.  I needed the noise of being social to quiet.  I needed to face some things that I'd been ignoring.  Had I not been forced to stop, my personal revelations may have taken months to surface.  

As cliche as it sounds, sometimes we really do need the world around us to pause...the sports, the movies, the bars, the clubs, the parties, the dates, and the rest of the social butterfly routine.  Taking an extended moment to acknowledge our feelings, desires, fears, hopes, and dreams can be invaluable.  It can be invigorating.  It can be life-saving.  

The Bottom Line:

The next time you have to slam on your brakes, consider this...Sometimes the only way to get a break is to hit the brakes.  Remember, a break isn't a bad thing.  Not taking one can be.

Stripped

Shown Above: Male Stripper by Marlene Dumas 1999

I had sex with a male stripper today.  Now, get that manure munching look off your face and continue reading.  Yes, you read correctly.  That, however, is not the point.  I make no apologies.  I say the things that need to be said.  Think what you will, I am now a firm believer in the saying "strippers need love too".

After what has seemed like way too long, I decided to allow myself to let loose and have a little responsible fun.  I met a stripper (dancer) who I will call "Peter".  I think that's appropriate.  Peter and I met via a social network app; but that's not important either.  What is important is that I got a first-hand look into the life of one of these mythical creatures.  These unicorns of night-life.  What I experienced left me a little sad and abundantly pensive.


I met a beautiful yet lonely soul.  I saw a man who was  clinging to boyhood.  I witnessed someone with hardly a friend in the world.  He was a person who, on the outside, was desirable beyond words; with eyes that could entrance anyone.  I saw someone who is an object of lust for many men...and a few confused women.  I met an individual who couldn't see his own worth.  This man had so much, yet not nearly enough.  I wondered, how does a person get to this point?  I could speculate for days.  I won't though.  

What I will take away from this experience is that there are many people in the world who are in desperate need of a loving influence in life.  Some people go about finding this in all the wrong ways.  Some spend the majority of their lives seeking this in the eyes and words of strangers.  Some, wade in the pool of familiarity, seeking the very same affirmation and love from those they know.  If one doesn't love one's self, one can quickly become none.

The Bottom Line: Sex with strippers may be shocking, laughable, or perhaps even disgusting.  I never back away from my decisions.  I never make excuses, nor do I have the desire to justify my very grown up life.  I will say that it turned out to be way more than hot sex.  It was a lesson in the power of love and the devastation that having no love can inflict.  Life is short.  Love yourself.  Don't get lost in another's eyes.

Blank

Have you ever wondered what Writer's Block looks like?  Well, here it is.  I've been at a loss for words for the better part of a few months now.  My last resort is to write about not being able to write.  I'm hoping this works like getting rid of a ghost.  Acknowledge it...then release it to the great beyond.  I can only hope it goes down like that.

The current situation I'm in did get me to thinking about sources for inspiration.  I wonder why it can be so hard to feel inspired during times of peace and quiet.  It seems that artists of all kinds produce their best work while stressed, depressed, oppressed, or something along those lines.  Why is it that tragedy brings out the best in us?  Great songs are penned while grief stricken.  You rarely hear a really great song about how perfect someone's life is.  Sports teams thrive under negative criticisms or while being the underdog (unless you are the Dallas Cowboys).  Does adversity bring out our inner superhero?  Do we need equal parts tragedy and triumph in order to maintain a certain acceptable level of greatness?  I'm not sure I have the answer.  I'm a thinker.  I like to ponder on subjects...meditate on them.  Maybe that's the source of my greatness.  Perhaps it's a signal that I'm in need of medication.  :-)  Who knows?  I've maintained for years now, that a balance in life is necessary.  I just never applied that logic to having a need for tragedy.  Maybe that's why we self-sabotage at times.  Could it be our spirits telling us that we are out of balance and perhaps low on adversity?

I feel as though this blocked moment is temporary for me.  Life is full of difficulty and lessons to be learned.  I'm pretty sure that something will pop up any day now and inspire the shit out of me!  Until then, I will accept where I am.  I will value the role hardship plays in my life.

I'm not sure I'd be who I am without it.

The Bottom Line:
None of us like adversity or tragedy.  When we make peace with the idea that it's a valuable part of life, we can begin to see it differently.  We can learn from our trials rather than let them destroy us.  After all, without a little adversity, we'd all be "blank pages".

Just Do It...Damn It!

What if the life you've always wanted was just one decision away?  What if you did even one thing every single day that took you down your dream path?  What would that look like? What would happen if you stopped dreaming and started doing?  These are all questions I've been asking myself recently.  I finally figured out that the answer is: Stop asking!  There is nothing more cliche or more true than the Nike slogan "Just Do It".   In an effort to avoid trivializing life's many hardships, I will admit that this is harder said than done.  The point is, however, that it can be done!

I know that I've spent way to much of the last 10 years dreaming about how I want my life to be.  That equals about 10 years that I've wasted not making it happen.  I've allowed circumstances and people to dictate the quality of my life.  I've forgotten that my dreams require action in order to come true.  As Kelly Clarkson put it, I've been "breaking my own heart".  You should never stop dreaming; but dreaming alone will never create the reality.  If you truly want something in life...go for it.  Do something...anything...to move you in that direction every single day.  One day you will wake up, look around, and realize... I'm where I want to be!

The Bottom Line:
Give the "seeds" that are your dreams the "water" of your actions.  Warm yourself in the "light" of inspiration and witness the growth!

New Message

What do you do when you go looking for something...only to find it?  In the age of instant communication (e.g. text, phone, Internet, etc...), I find myself wishing that I only dated within the Amish community.  At least I'd have less technology to compete with.  Cheating, flirting, and pillow talk would all be done the old-fashioned, tedious, and ultimately sloppier way.  It is way too easy for people to "reach out and touch someone" these days.  I struggle with trust issues in my dating relationships.  I've been burned too many times to count by secret cell phone rendezvous and Internet hookups.  I find myself dating a guy only to realize there is someone on the side...or perhaps several "someones".  I'd really like to know why the Internet and/or the cell phone has turned the entire dating world into a giant pool of options rather than priorities.  How the hell did we get to this place?  

I wish I could trust that I'm enough for the person I'm with.  I long to believe that there isn't always going to be a long lost lover just waiting for the chance to rekindle old romance with my new prospect.  I'd love to believe that a cell phone call-log couldn't possibly hold the key to understanding the person I'm dating.  I fear that I may never be able to trust again.  It seems like something old...something new...something borrowed ...someone he blew...is just a text or a call away.  I've said for a long time that trust is a choice.  I'm beginning to wonder just how sound that whole idea is.  Can we really just choose to trust...even when the texts roll in at 4am?  Or, do we find ourselves tiptoeing around in the dark like some sort of suspicious wife in a Lifetime movie...waiting to snatch the phone and get the real story?  

I'm big enough to realize that I do not have all the answers.  That's why you may notice I spend a lot of time asking questions in the articles I write.  I truly believe that sharing my experiences can not only help me; but could very well help others who find themselves in the similar circumstances.

The Bottom Line:
Sometimes a text is just a text.  Trust, however, is much trickier.    

35

It’s Labor Day and I find myself speeding toward California on an American Airlines flight with age and personal relationships on my mind.  I turn 35 years old tomorrow. Five years ago, I didn't really have the normal “OMG I’m 30!” moment.  I guess I’m late with that.  I’m not really freaking out about getting old.  For one thing, I've been blessed with some of the best genes around so I don’t look 35.  I’m regularly guessed to be in my mid to late 20’s.  I’m hoping that remains the case...for a little while longer anyhow.  J     

I guess the thing that strikes me most about this age is all of the people that have come and gone from my life...friends…family…acquaintances…and the like.  I’m traveling to visit a friend that I haven’t seen in about 8 years.  There was a time I thought I may never see him again.  Thanks to Facebook, we reconnected and are now going to spend the next seven days acting like damn fools.  I can’t wait. 

I have mixed feelings about the relationships I’ve had over my lifetime.  I’ve lost people I loved to both death and ego.  Friends have abandoned me in the name of God.  Boyfriends and lovers have vanished into what seemed like thin air.  Even with all of the great loss I’ve suffered, it is those relationships which have stood the test of time that shine the brightest.  In spite of great distance, time, or tribulation, there are those few relationships which have held strong.

The other thing that occurs to me is how labor-intensive relationships are.   They are hard work.  They require vast amounts of effort and sacrifice.  The hard work is well worth the reward.  In fact, I think that relationships that come too easily are ones that could very well be taken for granted.  After all, anything worth having is also worth working for.  Looking ahead to the next 35 years, I plan on letting the people in my life know exactly how much they mean to me.  Life is far too short to spend it keeping such valuable information to myself. 

The Bottom Line:

Make the most of your relationships and your relationships will make the most of you. 

Rear-view Mirror

Does your future look somewhat like your past?

When it comes to recycling, I'm the worlds worst...except, however, when it comes to romantic relationships.  What is it about an old relationship that would make us want to go back to it?  Is it a comfort thing?  I'm afraid for me, the answers are a little hard to come by.  I obviously have something to work through in my own life.  Why else would I continuously find myself going in a backward relationship motion?

I'm a Virgo, so I have a tendency to make everything very black and white.  Well, I'll have no such luck with this topic.  If you are anything like me, and find yourself in a similar situation; start by asking yourself lots of questions.  It's good to start with "why", but get specific with yourself.  Try some of these questions on for size...


Am I a masochist?

Is it the sex?

Is it comfortable?

Do I feel like I made a mistake?

Has anything really changed between us?

Will things be better a second time around?

Why did I leave in the first place?

Do I need counseling?   :-)

These are all great questions and one's that I am currently asking myself.  I know there must be plenty of people out there who find themselves in a similar spot.  Please know...you are not alone!

The Bottom Line:
There are plenty of us hamsters out there just running in place on the big relationship wheel.  The key to evolving past that place in our lives is being willing to ask the tough questions of ourselves.  Once we begin to ask those questions, we will start to look around and realize...

I really AM just running in place!  What the hell?

Dear God

I can honestly say, that prayer is not a regular activity in my life.  I do believe in God.  I even believe in Jesus.  To what extent...that's another story.  I can tell you that I believe prayer is a conversation between you and God.  I believe it was never intended to be a political tool.  I believe prayer only helps you if you believe it.  I believe prayer can be instrumental in getting your heart and mind in sync.

If I had a prayer to offer, it would go something like this...

Dear God,

I want to say thank you for all the things I've been blessed with in my lifetime.  I know we've fought.  I've cursed you out.  I've screamed.  I've cried.  I burned books that people swear were divinely inspired by you.  I've lost faith in you.  I've gained it back.  I've been guilty of coming to you only when I need something.  I've struggled to understand you.  I've worried that you might not be real at all.  I still think you may have it out for me sometimes.  Other times, I feel you have my back.  Our relationship has been up and down...back and forth...and everywhere in between.  I can't say I've got you all figured out.  I can say that the more I learn about myself, the more I learn about you.

I pray that I never knowingly hurt someone, though I know I probably will.  I pray that I can always offer the forgiveness that I so desperately need from others.  I pray that I will always be man enough to be honest with my self and with others...no matter how unpleasant that honesty could be.

I pray that you help me not be so critical of myself and of others.  I pray you never take away my curiosity.  I pray for strength to fight, even when I don't want to fight.  I pray that I learn something...anything...from my tears.  I pray for courage.  I pray that I will always be better today than I was yesterday.  I pray that if you are listening...you never stop listening.   I pray for justice.

I pray for my children's peace of mind and soul.  I pray that no matter where they are in life, they always feel my great and never-ending love for them.  I pray they never forget me.  I pray that they seek the truth about who their dad really is.  I pray one day I can tell them face to face that their love forever transformed my soul.  I pray they will understand, before them...I was nothing.  I pray that everyone in this world gets to experience the unconditional love of a child at least one time.

Finally, I pray that I always feel that like I can say whatever I need to say to you, and that you will listen.  I pray that even in my worst moments, you see my heart.  I pray that you forgive my mouth, and my actions, and my thoughts.  I pray that by the end of my lifetime, I will get to meet the "person" that I've been through hell and back with.  Real or imagined...  Literal or figurative... Near or far... You've always been around.

Sincerely,
Me

The Bottom Line:
Maybe God is within.  Maybe God is somewhere out there.  Maybe God is everywhere.  Maybe it's OK that I don't know.  Life, if nothing else, is a journey.  Our conversations...our prayers with that something or someone that is bigger than ourselves can only lead to greater understanding and greater peace of mind.

Bee About It

Inspiration is a funny thing.  Sometimes it's like being sucker-punched.  Other times it's like finding a twenty dollar bill in a pair of jeans.  I've made it my unofficial goal in life to seek out inspiration in what most would consider off-the-wall places.  For an example of this, read my piece entitled Holy Underwear.  

I work from home daily.  I am a lucky man indeed.  More often than not, you can find me doing my best Flipper imitation at the pool on my lunch hour.  While swimming around yesterday, I noticed a bee stranded in the water.  It was floating on the surface but I could tell the jig was almost up!  He was trying desperately to get out of the water.  He was not having any luck.  Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to put this stinging creature out of it's misery.  On this day, however, my curiosity got the best of me.  I decided to save the bee and observe his behavior once I got him back to dry land.  I know...I'm strange.   

I watched him for what must have been a good fifteen minutes.  I even managed to get a picture(see above).  He worked furiously to wipe away all the water from his body.  He took his time.  He worked very hard.  He was thorough.  He was persistent.  Lastly, he shook off what was left of the water and hit the open skies.  

The Bottom Line:

Even when life seems to be drowning you, accept a helping hand.  Work hard.  Bee thorough.  Bee persistent.  Bee patient.  Shake off what's drowning you and realize that the sky really is the limit! 

You're So Gay!

In a world where it seems to be increasingly cool to call people "gay" as some sort of insult, I'd like to go on record by saying: The joke's on you!

Here are some things you should keep in mind...

Gay is NOT contagious.

We don't want to convert you.

While you think using "gay" as an insult makes you cool, it really just makes you a douche bag.

Most people would rather be gay than be a dumb-ass.

While you have the right to speak freely, you also have the right to be educated.

Calling people gay makes you look simple and ignorant.

When you constantly use the word gay as an insult...it only makes you seem like a closet case.

"Cool" comes in many different forms; one of them is GAY!

If it weren't for gay people metrosexuals wouldn't know how to dress.  ;-)


The Bottom Line:
It's time we realize that the world does not revolve around our differences but rather the things we have in common.  We are all people trying to receive as much love and acceptance as we can.  Live your life in a way that lets others know you respect yourself as well as your fellow human being.


"If we lose love and self respect for each other, this is how we finally die." ~ Maya Angelou  

Penicillin

One of my favorite things to say when someone is getting on my nerves is that he or she is "giving me Mono"...yes...as in Mononucleosis.  The saying generally gets a chuckle from even the most straight-laced people.  I said this to someone about the Dallas Mavericks last night as I watched them miss shot after shot before finally winning the game and sending the Oklahoma City Thunder to an early vacation.  The person watching with me jokingly said that I was going to need Penicillin!  I then recalled that Penicillin was found by accident.  Something so world-changing was a complete and total ACCIDENT!

That's when I started wondering...

Do we spend too much time and energy trying to plan out our lives?  Should we be doing more things by accident?  In an effort to make a ground-breaking discovery in our everyday lives, could we stand to allow a lack of planning?

I believe there is something to this.  I have said before that I am a firm believer in balance or "moderation" in life.  I think this should probably include a healthy balance between planning and chance.  If we plan every thing in life, we could very well miss out on something amazing.  I think over-planning can be linked to a general distrust in our own ability to handle the unexpected.  Perhaps we should trust ourselves, our knowledge, our strength, and our resilience to get us through the unexpected times in life.  Who knows what miracle could be discovered by accident?

Yes...I got ALL this from Penicillin.  For those of you who know me and have followed my blog over the years, you should not be surprised.  :-)

The Bottom Line:
Take chances.  Don't plan absolutely everything and remember... a little "moldy bread" can offer up a lot of healing.  So, the next time life gives you mold, make Penicillin and just roll with it.

On The Verge

It's just before 5AM on what should be just another Tuesday.  It's painfully quiet here in my apartment, even with the white noise in the background.  All this silence has left me thinking about my life and where it's headed.  It's an odd experience to constantly feel on the verge of greatness or disaster.  It's how I've found myself feeling more often than not lately.   I have a career, bills are paid, a teeny tiny bit of money in the bank, a beautiful apartment, you know...all the basics.  Even still, I can't help but sense that the universe is still out to trial on whether my life will really be great or not.  It's strange how one can feel so out of place when everything is seemingly in order.

It's very much like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but not being not awake enough to determine if it's a train or the baby Jesus.  Maybe this is what purgatory feels like.  Am I being made ready for something?  I wish I could share with you that I've just been enlightened with the answer to my own question, but alas, not so much.  I suppose it's really more philosophical than literal, although the two seem to intertwine effortlessly.  

I have bad dreams to thank for this moment of mental Purgatory that I find myself in.  I should be asleep; not tapping away on my laptop listening to my ice maker work over-time.  I've decided that since I have to be up early, I will just make some coffee and push through this sleepless and thoughtful moment in time.

The Bottom Line: I will let you know as soon as I find it.

One Way Street

As a Dallas native, you'd think Downtown Dallas(pictured above) would be a breeze for me.  Not so much.  I end up driving the wrong way on a one way street every time.  It's as reliable as the rising of the moon.  It WILL happen.  It would seem that I can do nothing to prevent it.  I just pray I make it out in one piece.  One thing is certain though, I always find my way out.  As it turns out most times, my adventures in avoiding head-on collisions often place me in the perfect spot to get out of the area.  Go figure.

It occurs to me that life is really the same way.  Sometimes we avoid things that seem like a "wrong way".  We follow the signs that have been laid out for us...keeping our lives moving in the same directions as everyone else.  The issue with this is that sometimes we need to get lost or turned around.  We need to travel down that one way street because in the end, it will get us to where we need to go.  Yes, it may go against conventional wisdom; hell, it may even be dangerous.  Sometimes we have to take risks.  Sure, there are roads that are well traveled and signs that tell us which way we should go, but hey...new roads are always being built.

The Bottom Line:
Don't be afraid of traveling the wrong way on a one way street.  It may end up being the exact path you needed to take.  Just watch for oncoming cars and chances are, you will still end up right where you belong!

My Life in Seven Boxes

Photo By - David Ross Jackson

It's a sunny and beautiful day here in Texas.  It's late January but you'd swear it was Spring outside.  Inside, things are a little more like Winter.  I will be starting a new chapter in life in the coming months.  While I look forward to what lies ahead, I can't help but think of the things I'm leaving behind.  Today, I prepared all the boxes filled with my kids toys, clothes, colorings, books, and other memories.  Soon, I will take them to my sister's home about four hours North of here.

For those of you who may not know, on the last day of June 2010, I relinquished the rights to my children.  I did this with the hope that they would be able to have a life free of the hatred and contempt their mother has for me. I wanted them to be have a childhood that does not make them feel as though they have to choose between Mom and Dad.  In the nearly nine years since their mother and I split, relations have become progressively worse.  This has made my children miserable and hurt them in ways that only two bitter parents could.  I won't pretend that everything was my ex-wife's fault.  It wasn't.  When it came time for us all to move forward, however, she was unwilling.  Working tirelessly to back me into a corner, she finally got her wish.  I couldn't, in good conscience, allow my kids to go through this torture any longer.

For seven months now, I could not bring myself to get rid of anything that belonged to my kids.  I still can't.  Even the smallest little stray Lego could not be thrown away.  My hope is that one day, I can open these seven boxes and show my children just how much they are loved.  I want them to know that no matter what has been said or done, they were always my life and my inspiration.  I felt it was necessary to put some distance between me and these boxes of memories.  I've been deeply hurt by all this.  I need time to heal...to grieve...to breathe.  I need a fresh start.  I need to see new dreams realized and leave behind all the sorrow that comes with the decision I felt I had to make.  Everything I've done since my children were born has been with them in mind.  That won't change.  I want to be ready to embrace them again one day.  I want to be strong and full of life for them.  These seven boxes, which represent my true love and my very soul, will be placed in a quiet and safe place somewhere in Oklahoma.  My love for my kids will remain with me at all times.  I will never forget the two loves of my life.  I will never forget my two blessings.  I will never forget their unconditional love for me.  I will never take for granted how I was forever changed from the inside out by the two most powerful forces I've ever encountered... my Solomon and Emiley.

When the heartache seems insurmountable and I feel as though I may die of a broken heart, I will remember that somewhere inside of me lives a love that will never die and never be changed...not by time nor circumstance.  It lives on forever and I will be forever grateful.  

When Pigs Fly

I'm browsing through the various Facebook posts this morning and I start to notice a trend...people replacing actual expletives like "shit" or "damn" with "shyt" or "dayum".  That's when I started thinking...I know, me...thinking...who'd have thought?  I started to see parallels to real life in this behavior.  It's amazing to me how much time people spend trying to "clean up" their lives.  This "clean-up" is very much like the word "shyt".  Everyone knows that it's really "shit"...it means the same thing as "shit".  Why not just say shit?  Why is it acceptable for people to live their lives contrary to who they say they are...so long as they appear to be what they are supposed to be?

This was the question I asked myself back in my married days.  I kept asking myself why it was OK that all of my close god-fearing friends knew I was attracted to men but seemed to be fine with it as long as I played the part of a straight man.  As soon as I started keeping it real, they ran for the hills.  What is it about the truth that makes so many people squeamish?  Pretenses add no real value in life if nobody believes them.  Why be the idiot who is dressing up a pig in a bird costume and expecting it to fly South for the Winter?  Why not just be happy with what is clearly a pig?

Don't get me wrong.  I've been that person walking around with a "bird-pig" before.  I guess sometimes we feel like reality is just too harsh and so we feel the need to dress it down.  I'm just not sure what is to be gained by doing so.  I rarely do that anymore...oh, maybe on Facebook...sometimes.  Even then, I tend to keep it very real.  I'm sure some people on my friends list cringe at the things that I post at times!    The older I get, the less I feel like keeping up appearances with people.  I would sooner tell you it's none of your business than to make up some elaborate lie.  I'd rather just type the word "fuck" than waste an asterisk (i.e. f*ck).

The Bottom Line:

In this increasingly low-tolerance and politically correct world, sometimes shyt is just shit and a bird is really a pig.  Say what you mean, not what looks good on Facebook.