Category Archives: disappointments

And The Beat Goes On ~ Early Afternoon Thoughts

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Normally I use early afternoon thoughts for elegant time wasters, I found there actually were legitimate times wasters in the real world over the last several weeks. In the recent spate of headlines there were several news stories about a councilwoman who objected to another councilman saying that the “paperwork would disappear into a black hole. . . ” I always thought that astronomical term was perfectly respectable, and could be used to describe the mythological place where things (even the socks from the dryer) could be described as disappearing.

Evidently the PC Police feel otherwise. Now, had the man said “black Ho” I might have understood – but black hole? What is this woman going to demand – that Astronomy change its term? That the Black Hole of Calcutta of history be renamed? Hold up on the cards the letters, I DO know that the Calcutta story has been debunked . . .

By this point I was ready to get on a roll of time wasters, and was perusing the blogs I follow on a regular basis when I was literally knocked off my soap box (which was pretty large by-the-way) by the following from the blog Joe.My.God . . .

For some time I had followed a blog called Coopers Corrider where a gay man adopted two children and aside from being an incredible writer allowed us inside his life and feelings.

Joe titled his post:

Apology Revoked
(And Munchausen-By-Blog Syndrome)

And then the OMG portion of my day began –

“Oh, gentle readers, what a twisted, fascinating, maddening, saddening place is this thing called The Internets.

Remember Cooper? The firefighter gay dad of two adopted boys who pulled his widely-loved blog after an “attack” of malicious comments and emails from the readers of this blog? Causing me to get extremely bent of out shape and offer Cooper a heartfelt (really) public apology? Over the last few days our little blogosphere has retched forth some unpleasant, uncomfortable revelations about Cooper.

The short version:
He is not a firefighter.
He is not an adoptive father.
He is not gay.
He is not, in fact, a he. “

(OK ~ now I’m really intrigued.)

“Intrigued? The long version:

The story began to unfold at Sweet/Salty, the blog of a woman named Kate, a young mother dealing with the death of her infant son. On the day of the supposed attack on Cooper’s blog by JMG readers, Kate had emailed him, extremely distressed to have discovered that Cooper had lifted many of her gorgeously written posts verbatim, including photographs of her husband.

Upon receipt of Kate’s surprisingly kind request to remove her plagiarized material, Cooper deleted his blog and apparently then concocted the JMG attack story to placate his legion of starry-eyed readers, people who avidly followed Cooper’s Corridor as a place where they saw their most earnest ideals about gay parenting realized.

Shortly afterwards, Cooper’s Corridor resumed as Nico’s Niche, a private blog where Kate’s material continued to appear. Kate found my public apology to Cooper and emailed me about the situation. Knowing that Father Tony has had a longtime internet friendship with Cooper, I put him on the case. What he uncovered may blow your mind.

According to the bizarre confession wrangled by Father Tony, Cooper’s Corridor/Nico’s Niche was written by a woman, a 52-year-old British Columbia grandmother named Jo, who says that ever since she was a little girl she has felt that she is a gay man trapped in a woman’s body. Cooper/Nico (Jo claims) was a concoction created in order to deal with her lifelong gender identity disorder. She says she calls her inner gay man “Nicky”.

Oh, but hang on a minute, it gets curiouser still. Turns out that there are extremely similar aspects between the Cooper/Nico story and another infamous case of blog imposterism. Years ago there was the (now-infamous in the gay blogosphere) case of A Priori Ad Lib, a blog supposedly written by a gay Canadian grade school teacher slowly dying from leukemia. The dying gay teacher’s name? Nicky. Who lived in British Columbia. Who turned out to be a woman, exposed when a blog pal of mine attempted to actually visit “him” in the hospital only to find no such person existed.

As the initial outrage and sense of betrayal about Cooper died down a bit, there have been some rather generous expressions of pity towards Jo/Cooper/Nicky. Kate (the blogger whose occasionally tortured, but always lovely prose was stolen) has been by turns baffled, angry, stunned…but most of all, kind. (Her readers, understandably, not so much.) Even as evidence was put forward that Jo had plagiarized other blogs, the conversation turned to pleas for understanding for the mentally ill.

Go read Kate’s initial angry post, then you absolutely must delve into Father Tony’s post, where in addition to publishing Jo’s emailed “confession”, he muses in his typically artful way about the anonymous nature of the internet and how much we can ever really know about people, even when we think we have an insider’s view of their day-to-day lives.

To my readers who leapt to defend “Cooper”, I thank you for your kind words to him, however misguided we all were. I know some of you had even sent Christmas presents for “Cooper’s” nonexistent children, so I can only imagine how incredibly betrayed you feel. Jo has told Father Tony that she’s been suicidal over being exposed, but has found a mental health counselor and is considering gender reassignment surgery. Color me extremely skeptical on that, but at the end of day what we have here is a very troubled person who needs help of some kind.

Even this post may please the sort of person who engages in what I call “Munchausen-by-blog syndrome”, but consider this yet another unhappy lesson about trust, gullibility, and how we as gay people are sometimes overeager to find our heroes.”

Aside from leaving me speechless ~ A difficult feat in itself ~ I was struck by the last paragraph (as in the solar plexus). I have to take a little issue with Joe on the last line, I don’t think it’s only gays that are overeager to find heroes ~ I think many people have fallen into the “Hero de Jour” trap.

The Ass Of Assumptions (end) ~ Early Morning Thoughts

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A very dear friend of mine (SGB) has a wonderful saying:

“words written can not be unread and
words spoken can not be unheard.”

As D&D would not listen let alone ask, their reactions became more and more pronounced – to me and toward Toby. I was walking a fine line that was no longer a balancing act but a high wire act without a net.

Eventually when walking a high wire while trying to balance any number of things, something is going to fall – and usually the person on the wire is the one that falls. I had been trying to keep everyone at peace and trying to compartmentalize what was going on in my life. While that can be a valid and valuable contribution of life – it can also be a major trap with no escape.

I’ve written before that I have a tendency toward “peace at any cost.” Sometimes there is no peace, and the end cost can turn out to be quite expensive. In this case, with D&D it had several unintended results. The friendship with both came to an immediate end. It wasn’t just that one single comment, but rather a gathering of a number of comments – not just about Toby – that led further and further down the road of erroneous assumptions.

And because they had built themselves a “construct” out of their assumptions, there was no way I could see that would change anything in either their maps or territories.

A construct is any idea that people invent in order to accomplish some particular end. And a construct, while not an absolute truth becomes something people assume to be an absolute.

I finally realized that I was not just walking the high wire around D&D, but I was also being untrue to myself by allowing the comments and assumptions to basically be unchallenged and/or unchecked. I had added false luggage tags and added baggage to my train – and it really was slowing the engine down. It actually spurred me even further to look even more into my life and the assumptions I’ve held onto, and which ones I’ve – perhaps – turned into constructs that need to be de-constructed.

In Wait
There are waves of emotions
that travel on land,
there’s beauty in silence
when you cradle the sun;
there are channels of thought
that use sweat when they paint pores,
there are smiles in drawers
that wait to be released . . .

There is a hidden power within us,
just lying around, waiting to be seen.
—Alex Luna
(copyright 2005)

The ending of a friendship
is a painful
as the click
of a coffin lid.

Letting go
Of assumptions
That don’t fit
This emerging life
Of a planetary
Consciousness,
Releasing
Unjust claims
That hold us hostage
To outworn mindsets,
Which drive us
To destroy ourselves
And others,
As penitence
For our power.

Releasing our minds
From the slavery of violence,
Freedom rushes in,
Flying to
Animate fresh visions
Of who we are
And what we can do,
Enwilling us with
Power over ourselves,
To choose
To be and do
With others.

Discovering love
Encoded in our genes
And compassion
That has been building
Through eons of change.
We find
Revived meaning,
A common purpose,
Shared action,
Different ways
Of seeing life,
New learnings,
A whole-some mix,
A holy diversity
Resolving
To empassion compassion
And stride forward
In myriad modes
Of Peace.

This is our time,
Our chance,
To rally Peace
Into the world.
—Verie Sandborg

But The Luggage Tag Says (3)~ Early Morning Thoughts

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In my last post, I mentioned that at one point I was working for a resident theater company. I had directed several productions while there and they were very successful (even award winning). There was a script that had been around for several years. Each year it would be considered and for various reasons not included in the season. It was a play with a delightful premise and was quite amusing as well. I finally prevailed in committee and the play was added and I was to direct it. As a premier (premiere?) I was sure that there would be no problems with either the script, casting or production. Quoting from the last post:

“I spent a tremendous amount of time with the script – many meetings with designers and such, and would then plunge off into what I expected the production to be like and look like. (are you paying attention to the pronouns and expectations here?) Rehearsals went quite well, and I was quiet pleased with the result. There were a few nagging questions from various people associated with the theater, but I was convinced the final result would answer all doubters. The show had spectacle, humor, tenseness, drama and a happy ending. I had even added a number of abstract moments in the show (something that was only hinted at in the script) and expected that the audience would enjoy and follow along with them.”

I was sure that my expectations were going to be fulfilled the way I intended. There would be amazing reactions from all concerned. There were reactions, to be sure. However, they were not what I intended nor, in some cases, wanted. I ran headlong into the wall of expecting answers according to my expectations. While not a failure, it was not a success either.

I’ve written before about my non-relationship relationship with ZZ. This is probably the most personal of the false expectations trap. Not only did I have false expectations, but I had various people at various times point out that my expectations were false and that I was headed for serious problems. But along with the false expectation I had added yet another luggage tag:

2) Fantasy travel: A very weak color, which leads away from the bright color of reality.

I was so sure that everything was going to turn out as I expected and desired, I literally decorated my luggage of life with various tags – the one of fantasy travel being quite prominent. And for an incredible number of years, I clung tightly to that tag – believing that ZZ would change, that our entire lives would change. And it never happened. But, of course, I had invested to much into the false itinerary, I became overwhelmed by the idea of making it a reality and making the journey fit what I felt it should be. And long the journey, I lost myself. I fell into several major traps because my expectations were not grounded for flight school as they should have been.

My identity is not a by-product of activity.

Even at my … ahem … age, life can be quite full of activity. But none of these defines who I am, and what journey I’m taking. I can be going and doing various tasks all day and sometimes into the evening, but these are simply tasks – things to accomplish. None of these are really who I am.

My identity is not a by-product of relationship.

I learned this painfully with ZZ. And, of course, still have to have an occasional refresher course as my journey continues. That’s why the quote that a fellow blogger Nodrin King left me is so powerful and true. I have to develop who I am. I have to take the journey of finding myself and becoming comfortable with myself. And as the quote puts it at the end – My relationships can be a by-product of how I view my identity and myself.

“Happiness is not something that someone else, like a lover, can give to us. We have to achieve it for ourselves. And the only way to do so is by developing our character and capacity as human beings; by fully maximizing our potential … What is important now is to work hard at developing yourselves into truly wonderful human beings. Ultimately, the relationships you form are a reflection of your own state of life.”

–more on all this later

But The Luggage Tag Says (2)~ Early Morning Thoughts

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Nodrin King (from A Flat With A View) left me a quote that added to what I had been thinking about as far as one of the luggage tags I’ve been dealing with …”Happiness is not something that someone else, like a lover, can give to us. We have to achieve it for ourselves. And the only way to do so is by developing our character and capacity as human beings; by fully maximizing our potential … What is important now is to work hard at developing yourselves into truly wonderful human beings. Ultimately, the relationships you form are a reflection of your own state of life.”…. The last sentence is so true. And he’s figured out part of where I’m heading with some of these postings.

I had been thinking about the false luggage tag of expecting every answer to be according to my expectations.

To start this, I want to take a story from the Old Testament. Regardless of personal belief, there are some stories that are universal. It’s about a royal with a big head. His name is Naaman. Now, he was quite an important person – he was a warrior, a highly regarded leader, and his life could be considered a success. There was just one “little” problem to make his happiness complete. He suffered from leprosy. No matter how great a warrior or leader he was, his life was headed toward the leper colony – a total outcast. Now, amidst his spoils of war was a young girl that offered a solution. There were prophets in Israel who could and would cure Naaman. Of course, Naaman immediately petitioned the King of Syria to take the “cure” in Israel.

The King of Syria was more than happy to oblige and sent a letter to the King of Israel (along with a small payment for services rendered). Of course, the King of Israel (KOI) was more than glad to receive the money for the treasury, but making sure that a major player of Syria returned home healed of leprosy – that was asking the impossible. So much so, that the KOI began tearing his clothes, and wailing at the top of his lungs (That usually happens when the right message has been giving to the wrong person, but that’s another story altogether).

By this time, the entire household was in full hysteria mode – after all, failure to cure Naaman meant failure to continue in the lifestyle they had become accustomed to … or perhaps even failure to continue living. The wild cries of “OMG, what will we do now” finally reached the ears of Elisha. He sent a message to the KOI suggesting that he stop with the clothes tearing and yelling at the top of his lungs, and send Mr. Naaman his direction. Relieved to have someone else that would answer for failure – Naaman’s major parade was sent Elisha’s direction. Of course, being the important personage he was, Naaman fully expected a major show for his benefit. No such show happened. He didn’t even get to meet the prophet personally. The gate was opened by a servant who merely informed the exalted Naaman that he was to dip himself in the Jordan seven times. And with that – the servant closed the door. And life inside went on as usual.

Outside the gate, things were anything but usual. Naaman proceeded to have a major fit. I’m sure there were incredible threats hurled at everyone – including the King of Israel. After all, he had just been humiliated by this … this – at that point, he probably ran out of words – or at least words that were recorded. He was leaving and leaving NOW! Why was he going to leave without being healed? Because he had a false expectation of what was going to happen. He expected a grand show … perhaps even television specials to follow. He was expecting a major event. He wanted it how he wanted it!! Instead (although not exactly the purpose of this post – but worthwhile anyway) he was handed the total prosaic problem of obedience.

Finally a small one of Naaman’s group that was trooping around with him , managed to get his attention and told him that if he’d been asked to do something weird, amazing or even appear on a reality television show, he would have done it right? Naaman appears to have simply stood there with his elegant and important mouth open. The little one continued by basically telling Naaman 1) he needed to drop the grand expectation and 2) he really didn’t have anything to lose – and a healing to gain by doing something completely simple.

In other words, he had to leave the false expectation of what he thought would happen and go with what could happen.

An old saying (which I used to hate): The definition of insanity is repeating exactly the same actions over and over and expecting different results.

On a more personal note, I had the opportunity to direct a premier of a play for the theater company I was working for. It was a delightful script – although not without its problems, but nothing (I believed) I couldn’t handle. I had had several very solid (and award winning) successes with this company, and was convinced I could “do it.” I spent a tremendous amount of time with the script – many meetings with designers and such, and would then plunge off into what I expected the production to be like and look like. (are you paying attention to the pronouns and expectations here?) Rehearsals went quite well, and I was quiet pleased with the result. There were a few nagging questions from various people associated with the theater, but I was convinced the final result would answer all doubters. The show had spectacle, humor, tenseness, drama and a happy ending. I had even added a number of abstract moments in the show (something that was only hinted at in the script) and expected that the audience would enjoy and follow along with them.

As Paul Harvey might say: The rest of this story tomorrow.

–fractal painting of simplicity:
http://www.cowlix.com/site/digitalart/evolvingsimplicity
–center of universe art
http://desta.jp/desta/img/centeroftheuniverseprev.jpg

But The Luggage Tag Says ~ Early Morning Thoughts

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When I started thinking about excess baggage cluttering up life, I realized that 1) there is a difference between baggage and luggage, and that 2) I want to keep the luggage and get rid of the baggage. Luggage is what makes us – well – us. Personally, it’s what is at the core of my being. The centrality of who I am. Sometimes it may get a little clouded or even dented – but it’s still there. and just like those beautiful expensive pieces of luggage – I want to keep it around me. Baggage, on the other had, is all the “stuff” that we drag around causing excess weight, heartache and other problems. Excess baggage can get in the way of living, loving and just being around other people.

The other night I mentioned an actress/teacher that I personally know. She spends quite a bit of time traveling speaking to conferences and meetings. However, for quite awhile when she first started traveling, it was joked that her luggage was going to more exotic places then she was. When she would arrive at her correct destination – the luggage would be off on a vacation of its own, sometimes not to return for quite some time. Finally, it was discovered that she had not been removing the old luggage tags when she started a new trip. There were pieces from various trips still attached to the suitcases much as barnacles attach to a ship. And therein was part of the problem. Those incomplete tags were sometimes seen as the correct tag – and off the luggage would go to an entirely different destination.

I’ve discovered that if I want my luggage (not my baggage) to be with me, I’ve got to deal with the tags and make sure that we (my luggage and I) are going on this journey of life together. And there are several “old” baggage/luggage tags I’m going to have to get rid of. (And I must make sure that baggage isn’t trying to pass itself off as luggage either.)

1) the old baggage/luggage tags of false expectations (that lovely rosy colored tag with just a hint of brightness that can lead to real chaos)

It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top.
–Hunter Thompson

Disappointments often stem from unrealistic expectations. Take Christmas for example. When I was growing up a Christmas list was always expected. I would carefully write out what I wanted and then would dream for days about what I just KNEW I was going to get. Alas, the reality never seemed to match the list. Now, adults might not have a Christmas list as such, but how many have the assumption that everyone can, should and will enjoy a wonderful holiday season and gifts and good behaviors will abound.

When I traveled to India, I was not going there to teach I was in a sense running away. (I’ll write more on that another time). I traveled to New York, and then took Pan Am 002 (Pan Am 001 went west) and flew to India…a place I had never been. My expectations were very high. I knew all about India – from Rudyard Kipling, of course. I knew that the New Delhi airport was going to continually hacked out of the jungle by natives with the help of elephants, everything was going to be made from rosewood and the air would be pungent with saffron, sandalwood and laced with the scent of roses. (to say nothing of all the Rikki-Tikki-Tavi’s that would be there being sweet and friendly) Now there was a set of serious false expectations. 1) We landed in what I thought was a desert, 2) the buildings looked as if they were about to fall down or crumble at any time and 3) there was definitely a pungent smell at the airport – nothing like the smell of jet fuel and burning oil at four o’clock in the morning after a 30+ hour flight.

Sometimes relationships fare no better. Somehow believing that no matter what: everything was going to be made from rosewood and the air would be pungent with saffron, sandalwood and laced with the scent of roses. And when I discover that the rose has thorns, or that the air is NOT laced with roses but other scents …

So now begins the process (ongoing process that is) of looking at what is a false expectation and what I’m going to do about it. Give up on expectations? Never in this lifetime. I know people who have basically no expectations – and you know what? They are never disappointed, but they don’t have much enjoyment out of life and living either.

Some people have adopted the part of the song (I believe it was by the Rolling Stones) that says: “You can’t always get what you want”. I like to remind people that the next lines “But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
–more to come

–final picture by dilekt
www.deviantart.com