Live. Let live. Repeat.

LGBTQ folks who come out late in life often struggle with the shame and guilt of "living a lie."

Society pushes us into a closet and when we step out, we apologise. The world fails us and who do we blame?  Ourselves. I know my truth hurts other people, but I am not responsible for everyone else's well-being at my expense.  I am worthy of living my truth, as we all are.

Shall we gather at the river?

The human body is said to be around 60% water, and our vital organs can contain as much as 83% water.  It's no wonder that good medical advice nearly always includes drinking plenty of water.  It's not something I find easy to do, but as I age, I think I may come to regret it if I don't develop a good water consumption habit.

Some of my favorite hymns are about water and rivers. Flowing water has long been a metaphor for spirit, grief, life, change, renewal, washing away our pain, community, and about a determination to do what is right.  Water is life.  This isn't just a slogan meant to make you feel guilty for driving a car that requires oil that threatens indigenous water supplies. Water is required for life on our planet.  We know this.  And, we are made of water.

Civilizations gather and grow at rivers.  These fresh water sources eventually come to be thought of as property, and with property comes control.  We grow our bodies of water by damming streams and rivers and containing it in reservoirs and tanks.  But water always fights us, and its force nearly always leads it to where it was originally going. Dams break, channels are subverted, diversions find a shortcut and floods come, regardless of our concrete walls and levees.  Last year, I was in the

https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/images/46820/nile-river-delta-at-night

town of Angangueo, Mexico, where a flood and mudslides had destroyed a thousand homes, killing more than 30 people along a stream in February of 2010.  The state's solution was to bury the creek below, where no one can see it.  This has given the residents of Angangueo no peace of mind.  They know that burying the channel is not going to save them in the next big rain event. Water will find its own path. This diversion of the water may cause them a lot of pain.


And, just like the water in our blood and in our big human brains, we find our own paths.  We spend a lot of energy trying to divert the paths of others, trying to manipulate the outcome so that we can reap the benefits of our neighboring water-bodies.  To do so is futile.  I am surrounded by people who I would love to be able to change.  Aren't we all?  But some of those people have been hurt along their journey, and often times those who are hurting will try to hurt others.  We know this to be true.

 Sirens represent the power of
water to challenge
our illusions of control.

  "Hurt people hurt people." But hurt people can also choose a path of healing.  That is their path, their channel, their direction, and their destiny to determine, not mine.  If someone chooses to be kind, they will find a way to be kind.  If someone chooses to criticize me, their criticism might give them the illusion of power to change me, but at most it will divert my flow until I get back onto my own path.

The human in me wants to whine, stomp my feet and complain, "how stupid, this idea that people will be themselves no matter what I do!  I am supposed to be in charge of other people's actions and reactions.  How can I be in control of my life if I can't control those around me?"

I have no power to change anyone.  I am water, you are water.  I can provide stability like deep-rooted plants to someone else's banks. I can offer support, love and compassion when their pain overspills their banks onto others.  If I let other people divert my path, I could be letting them harm me.  I have to assume that when I try to divert others, I am harming them as well.

A Sufi Parable, The Tale of the Sands  

High in a far off mountain, a stream started in a little spring. The stream flung itself at the desert, but each time it did so, it disappeared. But if its destiny was to cross that desert, it would surely find a way.

The wind could cross the desert, and the stream realized that it could allow itself to be absorbed by the wind, carried across the desert as vapor, and reappear on the other side as rain. But the stream didn't like that idea, saying, "I have my own identity... I won't be the same stream that I am now."

Eventually, the stream did allow itself to be carried across the desert by the wind, who carried it beyond the horizon, and let it fall softly at the top of a new mountain, and the stream began to understand who it really was, and what it meant to be a stream.

And that is why it is said that the way in which the Stream of Life is to continue on its journey is written in the Sands. 

A long version of this story can be found here: https://www.schoolofsufiteaching.org/the-parable-of-the-stream-and-the-desert.html

Drop the rope

When I was a kid, my dad taught me that if someone wants to pick a fight with me, just don't show up to the fight. It's kind of like when people play tug of war with you and you don't want the war to continue, you drop the proverbial rope.

A few years ago, I went off script and started conducting my own existence, rather than letting society or my elders determine my path.  I did this with the greatest ethical concern that I could muster at the time. I had extensive conversations with my spouse, and we agreed together that we could define our relationship however we wanted to.  No one else gets to define our marriage.  Society doesn't get to dictate how we relate.  Society defines marriage as between a man and a woman -- two people are legally bound to each other and are expected to have children, own property together, live together, sleep together, have sex with each other exclusively, and so on.

I'm 48 years old, and I came out as a lesbian a couple of years ago.  With my husbands knowledge and blessing, I'd started a relationship with a woman. She and I are still in that relationship today.  I am remaining married to my husband of now 25 years, and we are committed to parenting our two

teenage daughters.  Is this confusing?  Maybe it confounds those who want to put me in a patriarchal, heteronormative box.  Those people expect certain behaviors of women, in marriage, or of humans in general.  Those expectations have nothing to do with morality or ethics.  They are social constructs.  Those boxes, those confines, those expectations have been harming my very humanity all of my life.

Straight folks as well as LGBTQ folks might say that I should've never gotten married and had kids, and brought other humans into this confusing situation. I say keep on walking in your own shoes.  Mine don't fit you.

There is no road map for my life.  There are no self-help books. There is only me in this big world, trying to navigate around a bunch of rules that deny my identity, shame and condemn me.  I contend that if you aren't happy with me now, you wouldn't have been happy with me 30 years ago when I "should have" come out.  Those who shame and condemn the LGBTQ community will always find a reason to do so. That is their Modus Operandi. We can't expect them to change.  What I have to do is learn not to let them hurt me, and to be my authentic self regardless of the pushback.  I can't express to you how unfair that feels.  I have to tolerate them, even though they can't affirm and accept me.  I've been told, "I love you, but I can't participate in your lifestyle choices."  I have to accept that they do not understand love the same way I do, and that is their character flaw, not mine.

I am choosing to grow and change into my own ever-renewing and beautiful skin.  I am looking out for the people in the same boat with me, and I am banding together with them, if not in person, in spirit.  I will seek out those who I know have been harmed by the same people and actions that have harmed me, and I will not participate in condemnation or exclusion.  I will invite them to dinner with my girlfriend, and we will be in community together, if they choose. I will tell those who offer to love me how much gratitude I have for their loving acceptance.  I have friends whose well-loved children are in the LGBTQ community and I will tell them that I appreciate their parenting of their own children and of those they adopt as children in situ.

We can't live together if we are defining each other's paths. Nobody wants that for themselves. I acknowledge and accept you for who you choose to be, whatever side of the fence you're on.  I'm nearly a half-century old and some people think its their right to wag fingers at me for my "choices."  I'm not even going to tell them to get over themselves.  That's their work. I am dropping that rope. I've got my hands full, working on healing myself and being the best me I can be.

6th Grade Safety Policy: Bi Sexuals in the Classroom

I received an email that was meant for someone else.  Here is what it said, followed by my reply.

On Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 10:49 AM "F" wrote:

Good morning K,

During group work today G came over to our new student A and told her that she was “bi sexual.” I talked to G and she admitted this to me also stating that A asked her, I talked to our new student who confirmed this. I told the students about safe school policy and that we can’t have conversations about this at school including crushes.

I am wondering how you want me to proceed.

Thanks, 

Mr. F.

6th Grade Teacher

X Elementary

Mr. F,

As a gay woman who was surrounded by homophobic societal norms that caused me to suppress and deny my own truth for decades, I would love to have a conversation about this. However, the email was intended for someone else. I do not have a child at X Elementary. I suspect that my views on the matter are easily dismissible since I do not have a vote. 

However…Consider that the leading cause of suicide among teens and pre-teens is the feeling of isolation and loneliness.  This incidence increases dramatically for children who identify as LGBTQ. Safety is not found in isolation. It is in acceptance and love. 

A "safe" school policy does not include one where our children are taught to only define themselves in ways that are "normal."  Sexuality is a part of being human. Feeling safe in one's own skin starts at a young age, with one's peers and adult mentors. 

Please consider yourself the potential first point of loving acceptance in every child's journey of self-discovery. I guarantee that any child you have in your class who defines themselves as LGBTQ now or in the future will need someone in their lives who they consider "safe" when they face their authentic selves. Are you that person? Or are you someone who is teaching them to hide their own truth?  That is the path to isolation, depression, anxiety and worse. 

With love in my heart for you and those kids,

Angie Babbit 

Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow; And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go. He followed her to school one day— That was against the rule; It made the children laugh and play, To see a lamb at school. So the teacher turned him out, But still he lingered near, And waited patiently about Till Mary did appear. Then he ran to her, and laid His head upon her arm, As if he said, I'm not afraid,You'll keep me from all harm.

Dear Straight People:

I was at a book club and we were talking about the merits of other book clubs.  A guy started talking about someone in another book club who I didn't know, and about how this other guy isn't coming to terms with his sexuality.  He went on at length about his gay behaviors, and how he's married, in denial about being gay, and so on.  I hear this conversation all the time.  People like to speculate about who is gay and then tell everyone else how that should be dealt with.  Usually, the person doing it thinks it's funny.

Stop it, Straight People.  Stop speculating about other people's sexuality and then acting like you've got a clue what it's like to be non-heteronormative. And, it's not funny. It's really pretty hostile.

I said to this guy, "It sure seems like you have taken an unusual interest in determining who is gay and who isn't."

"Maybe I have," he said, smirking.

I asked, "What about me? Am I gay?"

His smirk disappeared and he said, "Well, that's none of my business!"

Suddenly, when I'm in the room with him, face-to-face, it's not his business.  But he can talk all he wants about this other guy.

Just stop it.  Straight People, listen to me.  You don't know what it's like to fear the threat of exposure, exclusion, deep loss and even violence for having intimate relationships that are not "normal" like yours.

You might think that you know, because you're liberal-minded and empathetic.  If you're open, accepting, etc.,  stop this presumption and start using language that indicates you care about everyone, all the time, even if they're not there. Demanding to know is entitlement. Demanding secrecy is equally wrong.  Their story isn't your story. You don't get to decide any of this for someone else, thank goodness.

I said to this guy, "You're right. It's none of your business.  But if you want people to open up to you about stuff like this, they have to feel safe doing it, especially in a small-group setting like a book club." The other people in the group just kind of sat there, smiling. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

Did I just come out to this group of casual acquaintances?  Now what do they think of me? I didn't panic.  The proverbial sky did not fall.  I felt like vomiting, but I didn't.  You see, Straight People, my experience told me that I might later get punched in the face, or worse, so it was a little scary.

Let's just say for a moment that in 2017, all LGBTQ people have no reason to fear future retribution for coming out.  Let's say that our utopian society has reached a point of utter acceptance of all.  (It goes without saying, this is not the reality.)  Should all non-straight people simply ignore their prior experiences that clearly paint another picture?  Our unique human experiences and the emotions surrounding our experiences drive our decisions.

There are entire societies where the trauma of the ancestors dictates behavior.  In Transylvania, there are elders who still refuse to practice their religion openly because of torture and persecution by an Italian soldier, many generations ago in the 1570s. I make my decisions about who gets to see my true light based on an invisible line of safety. When I feel like I'm toeing the line, my stomach starts to heave, like right now.

So guess what, Straight People. Nobody owes you their truth, especially if you act entitled to it. Sometimes you can't see that you are acting entitled, and you can't ever see the world 100% from the perspective of others, despite how hard you try.  But, if you really do care about someone and want to support them, you could start by asking them questions and offering your support.  And if their truth disappoints or frightens you? Maybe you should take a good look at your own experiences and dig down into the dirt of what makes you feel that way. It is about goddamned time you start working on you.

Open Letter to the Man Who Kissed Me Today

Dear sir,

Today, there was an awkward moment when our lunch group was dispersing.  Everyone was hugging goodbyes, so I went ahead and reluctantly hugged you.  When my head went left, yours went the same direction, and you said, "I almost kissed you!" I was less than thrilled.  When you held me tighter than I wanted and you actually kissed my cheek, I understand why you did that, even though I had already said to you, "No! You will not!"  I understand you quite well.  You were laughing, and I may have laughed it off in the moment, but I'm telling you now that it was not funny. It was not just a funny kiss on the cheek.  You may wonder why I'll never let you hug me again.  I'll explain, even though it's not my job to school you because you're a grown man, and you surely know the rules by now.

You know that women don't want to be kissed when they say, "Don't kiss me."  But there's something you may not know.  You aren't the only one who acts like you don't know the rules.  I don't blame you for not knowing that your kiss represents the boy who groped my breasts twice in the hallways of my high school over 27 years ago.  The boy laughed, too. You wouldn't know that your kiss would remind me of the teacher who stopped me from chasing that boy so I could pummel him, and that the teacher asked me what I did to provoke the boy.

You probably thought I provoked you when my head came near yours.  It was supposed to just be a goodbye hug among friends.  But when I hugged you, you didn't know that in my first job I'd been subjected to unsolicited touching by men who were all my superiors.  You didn't know that when I told them to stop they acted like I had insulted their honor. How would you know that your kiss that I tried to stop would trigger a bad memory of when I told one aggressive coworker that he didn't understand the word "no." He acted like I'd accused him of rape, and he was so injured that he thankfully stopped coming around to my cubicle for a chat. When you kissed me you didn't know that you'd already made me uncomfortable the previous times you hugged me, by rubbing my back and lingering too long. I didn't make that clear, because it's not my job to tell you that I don't want you invading my space.  You're just supposed to be decent about that.

You didn't know that this is serious business. You assume I like it because I'm a nice person and I don't call you out like that bitch who suggests a guy doesn't know what "no" means.  So I also don't blame you for being dense because that seems to be how you get a pass every time you do this shit to women. Did you know that when I tell people about your actions they say, "Oh, he just doesn't get it. He means well..."?

Did you know that people don't believe you are in control of your own words and actions?  People say that about you, poor thing.  Remember that one time you told a joke about how you like women who can't escape you, and people just rolled their eyes?  I didn't roll mine. I was appalled and said, "That doesn't surprise me at all," and you kept on smiling. I think they roll their eyes because you generally put up a "good guy" front. People in the community like you because you do all kinds of good things. You're a liberal, peace-loving hippie with a penchant for making a certain demographic of women very uncomfortable, like when the waitress thought we were together and you suggested she thought we were lovers. No, that is not funny, and I told you so. And when women complain about it, you do that "I'm so misunderstood" thing and act confused and sad.  Let me tell you, that behavior is manipulative and lacks accountability.  It indulges the people who only see the good guy in you, and vilifies the people who have accused you of wrongdoing.

I once was acquainted with another good guy. The kids in the neighborhood loved him. He punched me in the face once because I ventured over see what kinds of fun things were going on at the swing set. When that punk died in a bar fight everyone was shocked that their beloved friend was gone. Not me. They wouldn't know that my knowledge of his violent temper put this little girl in a jam when he and some other boys told me to show them my body. I told them no, but they held me captive, just like you did.  I didn't want to get punched again, so I did it.  You have that peaceful front, but you do not remind me of peace.  You reminded me of these and so many other things -- That I've been bitten and grabbed. I've been punched and assaulted. I've been forced against a wall and pinned down with people watching and doing nothing but roll their eyes. I've been kissed by someone who heard me say firmly and clearly, "No, you will not."  And your reply was, "Oh, yes I will."  You actually said that to me.  Asshole.

Every time I tell someone who knows you well that this is who you are, they give you a pass.  But the next time you pull this shit you might feel the rage of a hundred wrongs done to me, including your own. (And I will see you again, because I refuse to avoid doing things because you might be there.) But if you touch me when I said no, I might become so angry that I will shout, "NO! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH ME, [your name, loudly here]!"to all the people on the street and all of your non-judgmental friends. I might swing an elbow or swiftly lift a knee. I am that angry.  I don't expect that this letter will ever reach anyone who will be sorry for being like you, because you really are a very dense lot.  I don't expect you to change, but be warned that I refuse to be silent.  I might be projecting a lot of anger at you that you don't fully deserve, but now you know where it's coming from.

In truth,
Angie

Plasticity

Ancient buried seas
Deep pergatorial deposits
Dredged up from the earth
Processed and refined
A contorted version of earth spirit
Bent and boiled to serve us.

We fill-er-up
Throw her down
Float her away
For Albatross and crab
The sacred  microplasm
of primordial ooze
Toxified and confused.