I’m very excited. I had a second letter on Salon.com today that was selected as an Editors Choice. Call me a geek, but that thrills me to no end. I try not to write unless I have something to say, something meaningful, something that hasn’t been said before. Which brings me to actually saying something (as opposed to being excited for myself.
Mmmmm Hot zombies on my desktop. Wait, that’s a distraction. Not what I meant, not what I wanted to say.
I’m sitting in the living room, watching Jesus Christ Superstar. This is the 2000 version, and oh my wow is it fascinating. I will admit that I don’t love all the music, but the cinematography and the way it was put together are the fascinating parts. Jesus is s a curly-blonde with a rather body-builder face, and Judas is played by a greasy shyster type. The Pharisees are officious looking members of some corporate Board of Directors.
Neither George nor I have ever seen it before. I think the original must have been better, cause wow. With the exception of this one scene “See my eyes…” the whole thing is just a bit awkward. I’m wondering how it was made in 2000. It looks as though it was filmed sometime in 1986. But no. Oh and Jesus, sweetie, you don’t have that note. Really. You don’t have it. At all. Stop trying. Please stop trying. It’s not pretty. No joke, he’s tried to sing the same note at least a dozen times so far, and every time it’s come out uglier than Judas’ purported sin. I just heard the line “your omniscient brain” sung. Yeah, it’s that bad. Hmmmmm. Now there are Jewish ninjas on the screen. Fascinating. (I’m not sure they’re supposed to be ninjas, but that’s what they look like)
Anyway, I was thinking about how awesome it is to have Netflix. If you haven’t already guessed it, I’m working up to a discussion of communal living. We have a Netflix account, and we share it. I admit that I spend more time on it than anyone else, but we pick what movies we want next. Right now we have Kinky Boots (Because it’s awesome), Jesus Christ Superstar (Because we’re weak and curious), and Bang Bang You’re Dead (Because I love it and insist everyone else sees it.)
I’ve been reading more and more about living communally. I figure since this great experiment of ours is flowing forward whether we like it or not, I should know what I can about it.
Now is a good time to talk, since I’m beginning to encounter some of the rough spots. In organizational life cycles, I would say that we’re going through a phase of storming.
Right now there are a lot of stress factors building in the apartment. I’m the only one of the four of us who is currently employed. I won’t be able to manage all the bills on my own for more than another few weeks, so we’re all feeling the pressure of that. Above and beyond that, Josiah is a new element, that we’re working hard to incorporate. We love him dearly, but he’s caused an energetic shift in the apartment. We’re all struggling to incorporate this, but we haven’t gotten there yet.
So when you live with other people, what do you do when the energy doesn’t feel right? How do you handle it when things get a bit weird, or when you don’t feel welcomed by your home? Lots of communal situations have long and detailed lists of rules for how to handle all personal conflicts, and house rules. I haven’t seen any of these things taken from a mystical point of view, or from the point of view that we share here at Ceann Widhe.
There are a few primary tenets we operate on.
First, organicism and balance. We strive to create natural communal living spaces. By natural I mean uncontrived. Our living room is primarily a pillow room. When we watch dvd’s we pile into the living room and make ourselves as comfortable as possible. I often work on the laptop (as I am now, I’ve been conditioned since a child to do something else while I watch the television, don’t ask.) The altars that are in public spaces are earth tones, nothing that is garish or intrusive. We try to create a space that feels warm and embracing. The altars in the public room are also altars for things that are generally honored in Ceann Widhe. An Ancestor Altar, A Faerie Altar, a Hearth Altar, and a communal working altar. We strive to carry this principle throughout the apartment.
Second, the concept of harmony. We work to support each other, to be more than just house-mates, but family. We try to keep each other healthy and happy. We try not to get in each others way and to oblige each other however we can. When we have conflicts of personality we resolve them harmoniously where possible. We try not to leave hurt feelings or bruised hearts lying around in the open. We each commit to being responsible for our own feelings and ensuring that they’re addressed.
Third, the concept of mysticism. We are a household of mystics. We are spiritualists, witches, pagans, mages, psychics, healers, and shamans. We honor and respect the spirits and gods with which we reside, and strive to maintain a healthy, spiritually active environment for ourselves and our extended family.
Fourth, we are not a family of hippies. We love hippies, they have their place in the world, but we aren’t hippies. We’re young, urban mystics and professionals. Two of us serve on the Board of Directors for the Brotherhood of the Phoenix. All of us partake in activist opportunities that interest us. All of us are urbanites, fascinated by, and in love with the city and the community we are building here. All of us enjoy having money to spend. We’re all curious about how communal living will function INSIDE a capitalist environment. (Most often, communal collectives strive to remove themselves from capitalist society as much as possible. This may be an eventual goal for us, more likely it will be a side effect of trying to live healthier, better lives. But none of us are actively trying to get out of capitalism)
There may be more, we’ll have to discuss them, but these seem to be pretty essential to the way we live. So with those things said, how is it that we resolve conflicts that arise? How do I explain that things feel a bit wonky? As mystics, we need to embrace our intuitive knowledge of these things. If I am feeling that there is an energetic pressure, there is a reason for it. That reason may be my own, or it may be the manifestation of something larger. Either way it needs to be addressed. This is a rule in all walks of life. When something begins to fester, or rot, or stagnate, you need to address it appropriately or it will continue to fester.
Alright, that’s it for now. Namaste.
There is a stillness to the apartment tonight. A waiting. It is as if there is something tick, tick, ticking behind the walls, beneath the floorboards. I can feel the heart beat of time, waiting, waiting, waiting until waiting is filled.
There is no patience here, no stillness, no true acceptance of waiting. There is an urgency, a threat of chaos waiting to burst out at the earliest opportunity.
This morning when I awoke, I gazed up at the storage space above the closet, and where the camping chairs and tents are, I saw a creature, a cross between a gargoyle and some sort of winged bipedal beast. It’s hands were between it’s feet, perching upon the storage space, ready to pounce. Looking at me, quietly, hungrily. I imagine its eyes were dark, dirty yellow, although in truth I do not remember seeing this at the time.
Its face was disfigured, and it was hairless, bat-like wings folded behind its shoulders, which were hunched heavily from its position. I blinked and could not see it anymore, but still I let a small movement of my wrists and hands make a banishing gesture. The room felt clearer, the air more light. My heart was racing and I took a deep breath, not realizing that I had held my breath through the encounter.
I turned over to the side of the bed and turned the alarm clock off all the way, making sure that it wouldn’t come back on to annoy me. And then I got home from work today, there is this feeling in the air, this quiet sense of pensiveness. I don’t know what is going on here, I’m not sure why, or where it’s coming from. I will do a banish ritual this evening, and study what’s going on as best I can.
But something tells me there is more here. There is something lurking, I can feel it, sense it, smell it behind the veils. A dark emotion that is lingering, it is clinging to the walls, trying to wrap itself around the candles and hearts.
I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t last. Either it will break, or it will be dispelled. The full moon is almost here, I can feel her call, feel the moonlight filling my body and eyes, but tonight it feels quiet. It feels as though the white light is grey, as though the stars are stealing her light, drawing it into the shadows, keeping it from the world below.
Have you ever thought about the choices you make in your life? I do. Constantly. I wonder sometimes why I find myself alone in my bed at night. Why don’t I have someone to share my bed at night? Do I even want someone else in my bed more than once in a while? The last time I shared my bed on a consistent basis was when I was with my Ex-Girlfriend (who shall henceforth be referred to as she-who-shan’t-be-named). And that wasn’t all that great. I had company in bed, but I don’t recall finding peace or comfort in that bed.
Shivian asks me regularly why I haven’t gone out and found some hot Dominant guy to play with regularly. I don’t think I’ve ever given him an answer that satisfies. Sex isn’t about getting off to me. It’s about intimacy. It’s about connection, and yes, it’s about love.
Allow me to take a moment here. I use the word love a little differently than most people. Love is not a closed emotion that devotes you to one person in some sort of mystical connection. Love is far simpler, and it is this simplicity that causes us to misunderstand it so often. Love is simply connection. Love is honest connection between people. It has only two qualifications. One is honesty. Love requires honesty. The other is that love does not ask anything in return. Love does not demand reciprocation.
So with that clear, let me continue. To me, sex, and all that comes with it is always about love. It is about connection. So I ask myself, is this why I don’t just go around getting sex? The answer is no. I truly am polyamorous. I find that finding connection, finding love, is the least of my challenges.
A little back story. Approximately 30 seconds after I say the following sentence, “I miss playing with Daniel.” Shivian will say “You need to find another play partner.” We’ve had this conversation at least a dozen times. I inevitably follow up with “I’m considering it, I just don’t know what I want right now.” I’m not lying here, I really don’t know what I want.
To be clear, Daniel is a member of the Brotherhood of the Phoenix. I consider him a close friend and confidant. He is my mentor in more ways than one, and I value him dearly. He is also my sometimes paramour, by which I mean he enjoys tying me up and leaving bruises for the next day. Daniel and I are, by mutual consent, not currently being intimate in any of the usual sexual patterns. We have our reasons, and I’m not sure they’re fit for public consumption, trust that they are powerfully compelling and good reasons. That said, I do miss that particular flavor of sharing in our relationship. I look forward to a time when we choose to engage in a deepening of that portion of our relationship again.
So I do miss Daniel. But I am not holding on to him. I learned long ago that I can’t wait for people, when I do I find myself hurt and resentful. I’m not waiting for Daniel, and I’m not trying to be true to him, or some antiquated notion of sexuality. But I’m not being overly active in trying to find another person to leave marks on me either.
I suppose it’s fair to acknowledge some of the reasons for that. There are plenty. For one, there is a nagging voice inside of me that tells me I’m not sexually attractive to other people. I identify the pain that this voice causes me. I work to fight it, and I often succeed. But the truth is, I do not always believe that I am beautiful. I do not always feel worthy of intimacy, or love. In honesty, I feel strongly that trying to create a relationship while I fight this battle with myself is not fair to myself or anyone I may become involved with. As I mentioned, I don’t believe in monogamy, nor do I feel drawn to making sex more than it is, but I can’t share that part of myself without sharing love. And if I share love, I must be honest, and my honesty judges harshly.
And I wonder, is it hypocritical to preach love when I so often have trouble loving myself? Can I share love if I don’t have it for myself? I think I can. I think my family shows me that my love is true, and their love of me can not be questioned.
So other issues. I am painfully shy, in more ways than the usual. Some of those who know me will protest this to the end of the earth, but I must declare it’s truth. I can not be measured by my actions or successes, but by the challenges I personally face. I am a naturally shy person, I learned early in my life to draw gently away from human contact that is not assuredly safe. It is a constant struggle for me to override thes patterns, but I do, and so I appear to be the prodigal extrovert. As with so much in our society, but another mask I wear.
I am painfully shy, and I do mean painfully. My shyness hurts. It makes me lonely, it drains me to combat it, it urges me to hide away and let my sadnesses overtake me, and there are days when I give in to that gentle nothingness. The pain can overtake me in seconds, and I ride it, letting it pump through my veins until it has been exhausted. I can feel it drain away then, passing from me like an emotional urination.
And this, you see, makes my lack of self-love all the more difficult. For my shyness is ever more powerful when mingled with self-doubt or hatred, and that shyness can drive me to the silence of the void ever more quickly, and I shudder to confront that.
So here I am, sitting at my desk on Tuesday night letting the green text scroll up my screen (I use DarkRoom for Windows). And a part of me wants to share my bed with someone tonight, but a part of me values my solitude. There is a part of me that does not feel fit to share myself, if I can not love myself in the midst of that. Perhaps I am rationalizing so I don’t have to meet the challenges of my shyness. Perhaps I value my sorrow for the way it sets me apart, for the strength of self it lets me demonstrate, for continuing to survive.
Meh, whatever it is I’m no longer in the mood to write about it. Now I’m just horny. (Shivian sent me a hot picture of two really beautiful zombie-boys from Toronto which I’ve been staring at through the text {Love to DarkRoom transparency}, I’d post it but I’m not sure of the source, and I don’t like to infringe copyrights. I’ll see about posting it if I can.)
Update: Shivian saw the above and sent me the source. Take a look at it here ( http://wvs.topleftpixel.com/07/10/22/ ) It’s the second one from the top.
I finished reading Alex Sanchez’s Rainbow High today. It’s just as good at Rainbow Boys. I read it in a few hours, just plowed right through. Very smooth going.
I’ll have to write more about it in the future. I’m considering adding some gay-resource links to the site. The trevor project for one, but plenty of others in my head.
I wrote this to Author Alex Sanchez a few minutes ago. As I re-read it, I realized that these words are meant for him, but also meant to be shared. Thus, it is now and open letter of appreciation.
Dear Mr. Sanchez,
Thank you for your book Rainbow Boys, and for the rest of them (which I will be reading shortly).
I, like so many gay men, did not have the resources, awareness, or support of a community during my adolescence. For me, the result of this has led to years of discovery, exploration, and an intense focus on supporting and healing the wounds of the gay community, most particularly I feel drawn to the support of gay youth.
Having finished Rainbow Boys today, I say with only slight sadness that I wish I had been able to read it when I was in High School. I have long since grown to forgiveness and even found strength in the challenges I faced growing up, but there is always this part of me that would like it to have been different.
Reading your portrayal of strong, scared, courageous, and loving young men touches a part of me that cherishes the strength we must each find to write our own coming out stories, every day of our lives. It reminds me that the world changes, through the efforts and work of every brave child, through the shared suffering of generations, we are changing things for the better. I am reminded how much work there still is to do, and how many scared, loving young men there still are in this world today.
Thank you for reminding me that the stories don’t always end badly, and that sometimes, they end rather nicely. Thank you for helping to bring resources and courage to young men everywhere, for helping them to realize that they aren’t alone. It is words like yours that give me hope for myself, and my family.
Ta kya te, (My heart is open to you)
Theo Geer