A disturbing little vision that came to me while I was falling asleep last night...

He was about four foot tall and covered in hair like Cousin Itt, except for his arms. They were mostly bare and human-like, but he only had three chubby fingers on each hand. He had a ponytail on top of his head like Pebbles Flintstone, two big, black eyes, thick liver-colored lips and huge buck teeth like a beaver. His description sounds comical, I know, but he has always frightened me. There is something menacing about him.

I had seen him off and on since I was eight, so it wasn’t a shock when I noticed him standing by the last stall in the men’s room at The Outback. That was just like him to pop up in an unlikely place for apparently no reason.

I knew better than to talk to him, and I wouldn’t mention him once I got back to the table. My father and brother didn’t believe in him, and I would rather not be locked on a psych ward for the next month or forced to take any more Thorazine.

I have come to the conclusion that he is not alien or supernatural. He is simply a part of another layer of reality that most human beings are incapable of detecting like high frequency sound waves. However, he was aware of us, and he knew I, unlike most humans, was aware of him.

When I turned to leave after washing my hands, he said, “Loser.”

Haters driven by ego, not faith

Paul Tillich believed that God was not bound by time or space and that God transcended reality as we understand it. He believed that God was not another being along with other beings. He said that God was a separate ontological category and that human beings could not “know” God except through faith. He claimed we can never grasp God through ordinary means and because of this faith would always be accompanied by doubt.

Annie Dillard said in The Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, “Whatever we say about God is a lie for we can only know creaturely attributes which do not apply to God.”

I don’t know if there is a god or not, but after reading people like Tillich and Dillard, I have come to believe that if there is a god, that god would be unfathomable and mysterious, and if anyone does have a true spiritual experience, it could only be talked about in metaphorical terms.

These people who talk about their god as if “he” is literally some kind of daddy figure in the sky who tells them things and wants things… I don’t sense any faith or spirituality from them. I think true faith and spirituality would be more humble than that. It seems to me that those who tell us what their god expects of us or how worthy we are—of flowers and cake for instance—are attempting to claim an authority they don’t really have, and I think they’re driven by ego, not faith.

Dream Boy

I had a brain tumor removed in the summer of 1997. Originally, it was scheduled for July 1, but the hospital rescheduled it for July 15 without telling me. I didn't find out until the day before. On the last day of June, I thought I was going in for this 15 hour surgery the next morning. I wasn't sure I would survive. I thought my life was about to be over, and even if I did make it, I knew for sure that my life would never be the same and that the recovery was going to be long and difficult. So when I was told that day that I had two more weeks, I felt like a prisoner on death row who had been pardoned by the governor at the very last minute. I have never been more relieved in my life.

That night, I had an intense erotic dream. I was walking in a vast American wilderness. I think this was before Europeans had arrived, so I don't know why I was there, but I was. When I came upon a meadow, I saw an Indian boy coming my way. He was slender, elegant and young, maybe 18 or 20. Our eyes met, and it was as if we knew one another. It was as if we were meant to meet in this place. We continued to walk toward one another, and when we were standing in front of one another, my Indian boy picked me up and held me in the air as if I weighed nothing. At that moment, I experienced an orgasm and the dream was over. I'll never forget that dream, and I'll never forget my Indian boy.

 

True Friends

Everybody needs to vent now and then, and good friends will sometimes allow one another to simply go on for a bit without interruption. But I have encountered more than a few who simply show little or no interest in what I think and feel. When I’m around them, they share their opinions without showing the slightest concern for mine. If I try to share my thoughts, they will generally cut me off.

If a person repeatedly treats me in this way, I have come to the conclusion that it’s pointless to argue or tell them how they’re using me like a sounding board to boost their own ego. They obviously don’t care much about me or they would want to know what it’s like to look out at the world through my eyes. I think it’s best to minimize contact with such people, or cut them out of your life completely. Don’t say things your regret. No need for angry words or explanations. Just walk away from them or ignore them. There are true friends out there who are interested in you and honest dialogue.

Something Fishy

I think many forms of evangelical and fundamentalist Christianity in this country are less about spirituality and more about belonging to a self-identified superior group. They are “God’s people.” And who decided they are “God’s people”? They did. They are “saved.” And you’re not saved unless you accept their beliefs and become like them.

They talk about heaven and the rapture, but I think their form of religion is really more about earthly rewards. Various forms of Dominionism are running like wildfire throughout the whole movement. They believe they deserve political and social power. And they believe they deserve it at the exclusion of everyone else. The prosperity gospel is also very strong with these people. They think they deserve to be wealthy…because they are “saved.” They are “God’s people.”

It’s very telling that conservative Republican ideology and evangelical fundamentalism go hand in hand. And it is sad but also expected that some of the poorest people in this country buy into both. It probably seems like the easiest way to matter and become somebody. You can go from being the least important person in your neighborhood to being among “God’s people” in an instant. All you have to do is answer an altar call, and you’re in. In many instances, they’re also being told that if they work hard and have enough faith, God might bless them with wealth. If it doesn’t happen, and they remain poor, they’re told they’re just not working hard enough, or they don’t have enough faith, or that God will reward them in heaven.

It seems to me it is a kind of fascist con game. I look at American evangelicals and fundamentalists, and I think I know what Marx meant when he said religion is the opiate of the people. I don’t think that’s necessarily true of all religion, but if religion becomes an exclusive club, and if poor members are being told that they need to serve the interests of those better off than they are and that they deserve their lot in life or that being poor serves some higher purpose, I think there’s something fishy going on, and I don’t think it has much to do with spirituality.

The Other Side of the Pitchforks

Sometimes I am hyperaware that many simply don’t like me. Many would scold me, belittle me and harass me if given the chance. Some would physically harm me, jail me, banish me or even kill me. Sometimes the awareness of the hate is so intense that it becomes oppressive. Sometimes it even results in physical symptoms like acid indigestion and diarrhea.

I know that there is no one in the world who is really safe from this kind of judgment. No matter who you are or how well respected you are in your own community, there are multitudes somewhere in the world who would gladly rip you apart and think of themselves as righteous while doing it.

That is the kind of world we live in. Human beings are quick to judge the hell out of each other…often without thinking. They often give themselves over to a herd mentality and join angry mobs. The mob may give us comfort until we find ourselves on the other side of the pitchforks.

This Too Shall Pass

The thing that gives me hope is the easygoing attitude that some elderly people manage to cultivate. This is the year I turn 50, so I'm aiming for that attitude.

Right now, I live in Merced, CA, and I don't like it, but it's all I can afford. However, once I'm 60, and in some cases 55, I'll be eligible for subsidized apartments for the elderly. I want to move to maybe Portland or Seattle when I can get into one of those places. Seattle and Portland are urban and liberal. They have large, active LGBT communities. They have great public transportation. (I don't drive.) And forests and nature are close by.

I, like many, mourn for my youth. And I feel robbed because the culture was so inhospitable and homophobic when I was in my teens and twenties. I wish I could have been more carefree. I wish other boys like me could have been more carefree, too. But we weren’t carefree. We were scared, and rightly so. And we were full of self-doubts because we were constantly being told that we were freaks. I still have a strong attraction for sweet, slender young men, but I know that most of them won't find a middle aged, overweight, disabled guy with no money appealing. And I don't blame them. So I try to enjoy admiring them from afar. Most of the time that works, and maybe one day, one will want to be with me for an hour or two, or a day or two. Who knows?

I try to hang on to my reasonable dreams. I try to hang on to hope. But I have my dark moods. Hardly a day goes by that I don't feel profound desperation at some point.

My mental health was a lot less stable when I was younger. It's not that I don't still experience serious depression, mood swings and crippling anxiety. I still do, but I've learned to manage them better. And by that, I mean I realize that the dark moments will pass, and I try to refrain from doing foolish things that I'll regret when I'm no longer in those dark places. I tell myself to hold on like you do when you swing around a sharp curve in the road.

After being in the hospital for depression several times in my 20s, I wrote out the adage "this too shall pass" and taped it to my refrigerator to remind myself that the darkness is only temporary. It helped. When you're young, it's sometimes hard to believe that the pain will pass because you don't have the experience. It's easier to believe it when you're older.

This evening, I watched The Ice Storm on Netflix...

The Ice Storm Trailer

This was probably my forth or fifth viewing, but it’s been well over ten years since I’ve seen it. I’m drawn to the characters and perplexed by them at the same time. It’s about two upper middle class families. They are neighbors and friends, and their teenage children are classmates. They lead comfortable lives, but there is something that impedes their intimacy. There is a certain amount of ice in their relationships, which, I suppose, accounts for the film’s title. We’ve seen a number of affluent families like this in American films, but I think this film holds up to the competition. I would put it in the same class as Mr. & Mrs. Bridge and Revolutionary Road.

Although these films are blown up into drama, there is something very believable and honest about them. They seem to reflect real life pretty well. And that leads me to wonder if human beings are really emotionally capable of handling material success. Is there something about being safe that causes us to turn inward and to become brooding and, on some level, contemptuous of life?

I’ve always envied people like this. They are not super rich, and they’re not celebrities. They are merely well off. They’re generally well educated. They live in nice homes, not mansions. They can afford to eat well every day. They wear nice clothes. They travel fairly regularly. And even though there is the chance they might lose some amount of status and wealth, they’re not in any real danger of going without. At worst, they might have to move to a smaller house or eat out less often if someone in the family is demoted or loses their job.

I think I could handle material success a lot better than these people. I spend a lot of time worrying about paying for basic needs. I even worry about becoming homeless. If I had the means, I would move. It would be nice to have that luxury, and I am sure I would not become a restless wanderer drifting from place to place. I would find a home that suits me, and settle in.

I would also travel more, and it would be great if I could afford to take a friend along with me. Traveling alone makes me so anxious that it almost ruins the experience for me. And the thought of being alone and broke in a strange city or a foreign country scares the crap out of me. People with a little money don’t have to plan their trips down to the last penny. If they can’t make their afternoon flight, they can switch to another flight. Not such a big deal if they have to pay a couple of hundred extra dollars. They can afford a hotel room if their flight is diverted or of their connecting flight is canceled. They don’t have to worry about dragging luggage on unfamiliar public transportation when they arrive in a strange city. They can simply hire a taxi and tell the driver where they want to go. I would appreciate being able to travel this way now and then, and I would never take it for granted. I would thank my lucky stars.

I would also use the money to socialize more. It would be so nice to be able to visit friends and not expect them to feed or house me. It would be nice go out to eat and pick up the tab or at least pay my own way. As things stand now, I often can’t even afford to go to a fast food restaurant or go see a movie.

I’m sure I would be a lot happier if I could afford to live as these sour people do in movies like The Ice Storm. I’m sure of it. I know it wouldn’t solve all my problems. I’d still have PTSD and extreme social phobia, but the money and the safety that comes with money would help. And maybe I could appreciate it more because I know what it’s like to be poor enough to be scared.