I’m listening to the Glee soundtrack. I did the research and work that needed to be done tonight, now I’m just sitting with myself, my thoughts, my words, and this gay-ass soundtrack which I adore. I love every one of the 17 tracks on this album, but I keep playing a few of them over and over.

Dancing with Myself, although I haven’t seen the episode yet, is amazing. I’m so glad to hear Artie (I can’t remember the name of the actor) mostly on his own, and the song is so wonderfully done. I can’t wait to see the whole scene for this song. I think I’m going to cry. Artie’s voice has a great timbre to it, a great deal of personality. I could say that for almost the entire cast, but something about Artie stands out for me.

Defying Gravity blows my mind. I love the arrangment. Sweet Caroline gives me the warm-fuzzy-happies. Somebody to Love is such an amazing showcase song, and full of individual voices and styles that make me remember all the moments I like with each character.

Keep Holding On, of course, hits that part of my heart that makes me think of my vocation. Not because it makes me teary, although sometimes it does, but because like much of the art I find most meaningful in my life, it reminds me of the strength and power of the human condition, and our opportunity to persist and overcome. It reminds me of our best qualities.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that off and on lately. Our strength as humans. Our nature. I am a terminal optomist. I believe we all do what we do because we think it’s the right thing, the best thing, the thing that has to be done. As a result, I often have a lot of trouble understanding or even communicating with people who don’t seem to get it. My ethics are deep and rooted strongly in my philosophy and understanding of the world. I often don’t understand how deep they go or how fundamentally philisophical they are until I try to explain an ethical principal I hold to another person. As with many things, trying to illustrate those principles helps me codify them in a linguistic and logical sense. No matter how hard I try, I often simply have no way to connect or comprehend or accept a person whose philosophy or ethics are fundamentally in conflict with mine.

The most notable example of course, is I can not even approach an understanding of the belief that sex is dirty or wrong. Our fear and stigma surrounding sex absolutely boggles my mind. I’m fortunate to run afoul of that stigma far less than I personally expect. I take that as a good sign that our culture is changing its views on sex. Still, I know it will be a long time.

In those thoughts about strength, about purpose, and about my optomism, I found myself having a conversation with myself about vocation. As a member of the Inner Order of the Brotherhood of the Phoenix, I’m a spiritual leader and Mentor for a good sized community, and many reaching elements of a larger community. I love to write and perform ritual and help bring spirituality to people. It’s a great joy for me, but it pales in comparison to the passion I have for teaching/mentoring in smaller groups. 1 on 1 or in small class sizes (2-4). The personality of small invested groups is greatly enjoyable to me. Helping people find Spirit, listen to it, and move with it is perhaps the most beautiful thing I can think of to do with my life.

I began to think about where I am and how I’ve gotten here. I’ve spent a lot of time in the past considering the concept of Worth. What makes me worthy of recognition as a priest, as a spiritual leader? What makes me worthy of the blessings in my life? I had a conversation with Shivian the other night that brought these questions back to the front of my mind. Why me? What is it that makes me a spiritual leader? (I of course think this is a special and wondrous blessing. I recognize not everyone would agree with me.) My path to mentorship in the Brotherhood has been long and storied, full of twists and turns and a great deal of challenges and conflicts. But here I am. I realized the other night that I no longer doubt my worthiness. In fact, I kind of feel an obligation, that I do this work out of a necessity. It needs to be done and I’m capable of doing it.

And when I think back, and am honest with myself, I was a spiritual leader and lightpost long before I became a member of the Inner Order. This acknowledgement was powerful and meaningful to me, and I don’t mean to diminish it. But I realized before I accepted my place in the Inner Order that I would do the work with or without that acceptance. The work is there, and it can be done in many capacities. I never thought about what this realization meant or how important it was to me until the other night. Somewhere in the long course of progress from student to mentor (although we are always both), I stopped looking at mentorship as a reward or goal, and began looking at it as a part of the person I am.

There are thousands upon thousands of people out there who have no rank or authority, but step up every day and give of themselves in many capacities. It is this action that defines us as leaders, as mentors, as teachers, as healers, as humans. More than the realization that we are all teachers and students in turn (although this is a supremely important understanding) I am struck by the sheer simplicity of living the vocation. It is not always easy. In fact many days it is hard. Though I have an official capacity in the Brotherhood, I still find myself performing ministry unofficially on a fairly consistent basis. Regardless of the title or honor, I will always be a priest and teacher, and it is the vocation and work that is important, not the recognition for that work.

I’ve spoken with @HerbisOrbis about this before (and probably will again). Sometimes it’s frustrating not to be recognized for the work you do. HerbisOrbis and I both find ourselves in experiences and situations where we must assume the duty of priest or priestess, of minister or mentor, whether we are in our element or initiated tradition or not. As I’ve mentioned to George recently. The work calls, it has to be done. I consistently find myself coming in at just the right point in a conversation, or sitting around when someone who needs to talk just happens to enter the room. If I were less faithful I would call it coincidence, but it has become far too common to write off.

On another level though, I think this is really an exemplification of what I mentioned earlier. Human nature. It is in our nature to care. It is in our nature to nourish each other, to bless each other. It is in our nature to heal. It is in our nature to Love each other. If answering my vocation, stepping up and teaching, healing, and blessing, is what makes me a spiritual leader; then I am no different than anyone else. I am just a guy, with my flaws (and there are plenty), and stepping up to the work is just fulfilling the promise of my nature.

It’s scary. There is so much possibility of judgment, disapproval, and ridicule. It’s hard to fulfill that promise, to accept that the man I barely know who interrupts my meal to say hi, needs my attention and blessing, my compassion. It’s hard to put aside my own mood and desire and give that attention without feeling resentful. It’s even harder after realizing that more often then not, my effort will be taken for granted and unacknowledged. The Work is ultimately its own reward, and we must be strong enough, whole enough, confident enough, that that reward is sufficient.

I have a lot more on this, but I’m no longer truly lucid. It’s late and I must sleep. I will post this in the morning if I can. More in the future.