Adaptations

Animals have had to adapt to survive in their environment. For example, giraffes’ necks have evolved to allow them to browse the tops of trees, while other herbivores can browse the lower branches. It eliminates competition for food, enhancing multiple species’ survival. And let’s not overlook the fact their long necks also allow them to see farther into the distance to spot those pesky predators, again a survival adaptation.

Humans, too, have adapted over time. 

We now walk upright.

We now use power tools.

We now have technologies that allow us to communicate over long distances at the blink of an eye.

We have telephone, email and that bane of communication, texting.

I’ve not kept my feelings regarding texting a secret, but I am still having the hardest time trying to adapt to texting as a major form of communication.

I totally understand the quickness and convenience of getting a message to someone:

• On my way!
• What do you want for dinner?
• I’m running late. Be there soon.
• Sorry, I have an emergency. Can we reschedule?
• A major weather event is headed your way.
• Your package has been delivered.
• Your order is ready for pickup.

But, for long overdue deep conversations, no.

And here’s why:

I believe people make time for what matters. If it’s important to you, you will either make the time or make up an excuse. And not just when it’s convenient.

I have also come to believe that texting has broken down our interpersonal communication skills. People use texting to avoid difficult conversations, e.g., breaking up via text, not responding to texts in order to ‘ghost’ someone. People hide behind the screen to avoid the personal confrontation; therefore, they never learn how to verbally express their emotions. Or deal with someone else’s.

Also, I don’t know how many times I’ve been in the middle of a textversation and I’ve asked a question, then waited hours or even days for an answer. And then, without any explanation as to the disappearance or delay, an answer appears as if by magic. It’s a good thing I wasn’t asking about going out to eat…I might have starved to death.

I have also come to see that texversating is a colossal waste of time. I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked to clarify whether I was being funny or sarcastic, if either; to further explain my point (okay, this can happen in an old-fashioned real live conversation, as well); or to correct that unfortunately misspelled word. And how many misunderstandings and repetitions have arisen out of bad speech-to-text conversions?

And let’s not forget that always lurking, evil demon, Autocorrect and its machinations.

All of this typing and re-typing also plays havoc on our posture, our wrists, etc. Doctors are now diagnosing “text neck”, “text claw”, “text elbow”, and most recently, “text thumb”, all from overusing smartphones and other devices due to texting in positions our bodies aren’t accustomed to being in for long periods. This then suggests using the speech-to-text function on most devices would be more convenient. Yeah, but how perfect is that? And if you’re already using your voice to dictate a text, what the fuck is wrong with actually speaking by phone????? Oh, you want the screen available to see if other more important text messages might come through. You’re polytextory, you believe in simultaneous multiple texting relationships. 

But, I am trying to adapt, really I am. I am having minor successes in learning to identify my emotional reaction to being ignored, “I guess I wasn’t important enough to get an answer to my question,” as well as recognizing the improbability that a dire emergency arose on the other end of the line-you’re either lying dead in a ditch, having a major coronary event or your house suddenly exploded. And usually, when I do get that rare explanation, it’s along the lines of “So-and-so just texted me. Sorry.” So, you interrupted our textversation to carry on a textversation with someone else and then maybe someone else while keeping me waiting? That’s like stringing me along or cheating on me, isn’t it? I get it, it’s a text-orgy! And I’m just one of many... 

Maybe I exaggerate. A tiny bit. Or, maybe it’s your polytextory thing.

I mean, I can understand a few minutes’ delay; seriously, I can. But, a few hours? Or the next day? And no explanation? That’s plain rude and disrespectful.

I know it sounds like I am unreasonable. But, I’m not. I do understand there are times when interruptions can’t be helped:

1. You have small children, rebellious teens, or spouses/partners demanding attention or food; 
2. It’s late at night in your time zone and you simply fell asleep mid-text;
3. You really are lying dead in a ditch.

Maya Angelou once said “If you don’t Iike something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.” I can’t change the world’s dependence on texting long drawn out conversations, so if I want to survive in this new world, I guess I have to change my attitude regarding this phenomenon. So, to that end I will try my hardest to accept that: 

1. Texting is not the same as a face-to-face or a voice conversation and those texting me already believe that and will behave accordingly. I will not take it personally.
2. Texting is not the same as face-to-face or voice conversations which allow you to see facial expressions and to hear the tone of the speaker. I will simply read the text in a monotone which is exactly what the texter intended, I’m sure. I will not infer anything different.
3. Texting is not like being at a party where people will usually politely excuse themselves from the conversation, not rudely turn and walk away. I will not take it personally.
4. Texting is not like being at a party where good old-fashioned interpersonal eye contact lets you know who the comment was directed to and not inadvertently sent to the wrong person because of juggling multiple texting partners. I will not assume I am in a monogamous textversation and will not take any texting indiscretions personally.

I feel so defeated, so beaten down, so eroded-like a boulder to a pebble.

Perhaps, I could just learn to not have any expectations with texting. After all, text-pectations are a planned disappointment.

However, I will never, ever believe texting will convey the intimacy, courtesy or respect of a face-to-face conversation, or an actual voice call.

Synchronicities 9

I had the most bizarre synchronicity the other day.

Even though I experience many synchronicities daily, this one stood out. 

Way out.

So far out, even I was stunned.

A while back, a friend suggested that I play the lottery since I seem to attract numbers, or as she put it, “They have a thing for you.”

Okay, I thought, but I didn’t want to appear greedy and tickets can add up. So, we decided to play the lottery together and not one of the major draws.

We decided on the game Fantasy 5, where, to win big, we must match five numbers with no Power or Mega number to add to the mix. And it’s a daily draw rather than twice weekly. So, in my head, the chances of winning seemed greater, but in reality probably aren’t.

Plus, it’s only $1.00 per draw not $2.00.

The jackpots aren’t in the multimillions either. We didn't want to send a message to the Universe appearing greedy, just have our needs taken care of. I mean, at my age, what would I do with several million dollars? I could pay off my mortgage, travel and then? I don’t think I could spend it all before I passed away and the more I accumulate, the more someone would have to dispose of. I could leave it to charity or family, but let’s not get morose.

Anyway, I digress.

We came up with a set of numbers and play them consistently and twelve draws per playslip, meaning we pay for twelve draws in advance. The most we have matched has been three numbers, twice, which has netted us a total of $25.00. If we match two of the five we win a Free Play where the computer randomly selects five numbers for the next draw.

On one of our last tickets, we matched two numbers twice, so we had two Free Plays to collect when I bought the next ticket.

I cashed in the ticket, got the Free Plays, paid for the next twelve draws and drove home where I got ready to take a picture of the tickets to send my friend and that’s when I noticed it.

On the Free Play ticket.

There, on the computer generated ticket, were four of the five numbers we play consistently! I was essentially holding two tickets with the same four numbers out of the five total. I mean, mathematically, what are the odds of that happening? Probably the same if those numbers actually came up in a draw.

Once I got over the initial shock, I tried not to read anything into it, like we were going to win that night. Because that would mean that the numbers would be pulled in the draw later and that would be twice in the same day! Not very likely, but who knows what can happen and when?

But, it did teach me one thing.

Have faith.

If the computer can randomly generate four of the numbers we play onto a Free Play ticket, our numbers can hit. Some day. Down the road. When we least expect it.

And if the Universe is teaching me to have faith here, maybe there are other areas in my life where I should keep the faith?

Our regular ticket

The computer generated ticket

 P. S. No, we didn't win. But, we still have faith.

Attachment, Actually

When I came out as gay, I set off on a quixotic quest of finding a boyfriend. I just had to have a boyfriend. I needed to be accepted. No, I needed to feel accepted. If some cute guy accepted and loved me, then I could accept myself. I’d be okay being gay. I’d feel I was fine. I would finally feel loved.

I made some mistakes in those first few feeble attempts at finding love. At 25, I was now living those angst-filled teenage years of trying to figure out what I wanted in a partner. I would sleep with them on the first date, and never hear from them again. I then realized that giving away the farm was no way to hang on to them. So, I decided not to sleep with them on the first date, and I still wouldn’t hear from them again. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t.

So, I stopped dating.

I tried focusing on making friends and seeing where things went.

I had joined two social groups, one for gay teachers where I went to one event and never went back. I also joined an Evangelical Christian group offering support for LGBTQ Christians, and that lasted a few years until my spirituality evolved.

I eventually met my first partner through a friend who I met outside of those groups. Because my future first partner did come back after the first date and the second and third ones, I was finally feeling happy. I was ecstatic. At last, I had a boyfriend!

We eventually moved in together and life was grand.

I felt complete.

And then he died.

And I moved on.

With the first man who came along afterwards.

And things were good and comfortable and I was happy again. We were doing things my first partner wasn’t comfortable doing. We were going to social clubs as a couple. We joined a gay square dance club as a couple. We went to Pride together as a couple. We had a social life that included other gay men. (It seems that my first partner was a bit insecure and felt threatened by other men.)

In time, things changed. And I am single again. 

In both relationships, I could never describe myself as hopelessly, ecstatically over the moon, happily in love. Neither man could fully give me what I wanted or needed in a relationship as much as they wanted to. And I take ownership for that because I wasn’t clear on what I wanted or needed from them. Yet, I stayed, hoping things would improve. They never did.

It seemed I was searching for someone else to complete me when the only person who can truly do that is me.

I needed the relationships so I could feel complete, feel validated, and to fill a void.

It seems I was attached to the idea of a relationship rather than seeing a relationship for what it should be.

A perfect relationship is when two people come together to offer unconditional love, support and encouragement to help the other reach their greatest good and highest potential all the while striving to reach your own highest potential as well.

No relationship is perfect. Nor easy.

I say I was attached to the relationship. I did love both men, but I loved the idea of being part of a couple more. Attachment is when we use outside elements to fill an internal void. We become dependent on them for internal validation. We can be attached to material possessions to fill a void of low self-esteem; we might think "if I have the perfect car, the best house in the best neighborhood, the most impressive job title or career, a trophy spouse or even just a relationship then other people will think highly of me, therefore I can think highly of myself. If I don’t have all those things, or even just the one that’s most important to me, I’d feel incomplete."

And yet, not one of those things is permanent. Car accidents happen, house values collapse, careers fail, trophy spouses tarnish, relationships end, then what?

The only thing that is permanent is one’s own sense of self-worth.

I believe the most important relationship to have is a relationship with your Self.

But, how do you have a relationship with yourself? 

The same way you have a relationship with someone else; spend time with YOU!

• Go to dinner and a movie alone;
• Ask yourself those questions you’d ask someone on a first date, or a fifth date;
• Meditate-see what comes up;
• Learn to enjoy your own company;
• Practice self-care;
• Find out what you want;
• Find your passion;
• Find out what gives you joy. Then pursue it.

In short, find out WHO you are, your truest, most authentic self. The more grounded you are in your authenticity, the less you will rely on someone else to complete you.

It’s easy, and tempting, to go from one relationship right into another after one ends. Our ego wants us to feel validated, desirable, and loved once again. Mine did. But, we need adequate time to reflect over and grieve the end of the first relationship before embarking on another one. We need to be as healed as possible before subjecting ourselves to potentially being wounded again. By doing this repeatedly, we might even run the risk of becoming relationship dependent. It’s like an athlete who strains a muscle. They are told to rest for a given period of time allowing that muscle to heal. Yet, many athletes get anxious, restless, and eager to get to training again. So, they return full force to their sport before they should, often aggravating the muscle even more. Our heart is a muscle, literally and figuratively. We need to treat it with love, gentleness and respect allowing it to heal between relationships. 

I’ve learned if you place your happiness in the hands of others, they’ll drop it nearly every time.

In this time I’m spending on my own, I’m learning to validate myself, so I don’t need anyone else to.

In this time alone, I’m learning to love myself first, so I don’t need anyone else to.

In this time on my own, I’m learning to create my own happiness, so I hang on to it.

In this time, I’m learning to enjoy my own company, so I don’t end up with someone just to avoid being lonely.

I’m developing this relationship with my Self, so that if someone does come along, and I choose to be with him, it won’t be out of a need, a fear, or some other reason.

It will be because it feels like the right thing to do. 

On Hold

It pains me to say this yet again because I do believe people have good intentions, but the road to hell is paved with them. The intentions, not the people.

It was recently brought to my attention that I should not put my life on hold.

For anything. 

Or anyone.

And that caused me to think. 

What does "putting one’s life on hold" really look like?

I believe life is a journey of continued mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual growth.

Yes, I included physical because even though we stop growing up when we reach adulthood, we can, and should, continue to develop our bodies to maintain good health. And to avoid growing out.

And as long as we are growing, are we putting our lives on hold?

No.

Well, not in my opinion.

It seems to some, that because I’m not living my life according to what they think is appropriate for me, I’ve put my life on hold.

Because I’m not actively dating, like they are, I’ve put my life on hold.

Because I’m not overly social, like they are, I’ve put my life on hold.

Because I believe a certain area of my life isn’t over, and I’m not moving forward based on what they would do in a similar situation, I’ve put my life on hold.

Yet, because I am living my life the way I am, I still see myself growing in my emotional, mental, and spiritual health. I admit to needing to work on my physical health, and because I believe all four areas are interconnected, it will get better as I continue to work on the other three, but I must also address it for the other three to continue to improve as well.

Very often, in two parent households, one parent may stay home to help raise any children while the other parent earns money for the family’s necessities.

Has the stay-at-home parent put their life on hold?

I don’t think so as long as they are still growing in some of those areas I mentioned above and learning about themselves. (Disclaimer: I know not all people are spiritual, or maintain spiritual beliefs and practices, so as long as they are growing in the areas that matter to them, they are still growing.) I also know many parents learn more about themselves as parents which is still growth.

I also think that if you’re happy where you are, you have not put your life on hold.

I am, so I haven’t. So there.

California Gray whale off the coast of Long Beach, CA

I also believe we are the only source of our own happiness. No one else has the power to make us happy, because happiness is an inside job. If we depend on someone else to make us happy, we will be let down time after time.

When someone new comes along and we consider a relationship with them, we can choose to enter that relationship. Or not. That new person could could be a physically perfect specimen in our eyes, may try everything in the book to make us happy, be totally infatuated with us (but in a healthy way) yet if we're not happy on the inside, nothing will change that until we're ready to be happy with ourselves. You can lead the horse to the water or even bring it to the horse, but if that horse isn't thirsty, nothing will make it drink. Until it's ready.

As I have taken this time to work on myself, I have discovered I’m more introverted than I thought I was. Or, maybe I’m becoming more introverted with age. Or, perhaps I’m becoming more introverted when I see what’s out there. This all means social situations make me anxious due to the small talk and idle chit-chat. Plus, I’ve also discovered I’m mildly empathic which means crowds overwhelm me and drain me of my energy. 

So, dating is a big turn off and parties can be a nightmare.

I know that I need to learn to manage my introverted and empathic natures. In this new year, I will be taking steps in those directions, on my terms and conditions.

I also know that I need to detach from that moment when some well-meaning person decides to share their unsolicited advice on how I need to live my life according to what they believe is right for me. I need to simply let them spout off like a whale surfacing from the depths of the ocean, take a breath and then dive back into the stillness of the waters.

I also need to disarm my harpoon gun before it goes off and someone gets hurt.

The Swamp

I sometimes wake with a song running through my mind, an earworm, I believe it’s called. I’ve read that your subconscious could be telling you something by bringing that particular earworm to your attention.

But, I had an experience of a different kind the other day. 

Instead of a song running through my brain, it was an image, which seemed pressed to the inside of my eyelids. An eyeworm?

Like an earworm, this eyeworm was not static, it was fluid, like a movie. I’d call it a dream if I wasn’t beginning to wake up.

I remember being in a flat bottomed boat moving slowly through mangroves with Spanish moss hanging down from the trees and the sunlight filtering down through the canopy. It was very peaceful and quiet.

If it’s thought that an earworm might be a message from your subconscious, what is this eyeworm? Could it also be a message from my subconscious?

I believe it is.

I’ve written how I don’t see myself connecting with the gay community much any more. Far too many of my attempts at dating have left me wondering if anyone values honesty any longer. Far too many focus on the body rather than the mind, the heart or the soul of the individual or, more importantly, of themselves. Far too many feel the need to keep one eye open in case someone better comes along. Far too many latch on to someone instead of spending time with themselves for fear of uncovering painful truths or realizations.

I believe the image I saw in my eyeworm was meant to show the beauty of a swamp, an area some might not think of as beautiful. Yes, a swamp has its challenges. You don’t swim the water because of the alligators, water moccasins, or the fact the water isn’t very clean because it’s quite stagnant. Yet, the beauty is still there.

Even though the gay community has its own water mocassins-the ageism, the body shaming, the racism, the superficiality, the melodrama, the perfectionism, the hypersexualism-it also has its beauty.

We are creative-dancers, actors, designers, singers, composers…

We are diverse-all races, genders, sexualities, capabilities…

We are caring and nurturing. When young people have succumbed to the effects of bullying, community members have rallied, when possible, to help the surviving parents try and understand. When Daniel Pierce, a young man, videotaped his coming out and subsequent eviction from his home for being gay, a GoFundMe page was started and raised over $90,000 for him to find a place. In the 1980s when gay men by the thousands began dying of some then-unknown disease and the government barely lifted a finger to do anything, it was the lesbian community who rallied to help their brothers.

Maybe the eyeworm was to remind me of this: Looking past the difficulties and the ugliness, you will find the beauty.

And maybe that is my challenge this year.

After all, I can always venture into the swamp, I just don’t have to swim in it.

The Witching Hour

I often wake up between 3:00 and 5:00 a.m. It doesn’t happen daily and I’ve come to accept that it's just the way it is. There are times I can fall back asleep and other times I cannot. On those occasions where returning to sleep is becoming elusive, I get up and do something in another room for a while, then return to bed where eventually I fall back asleep. Most of the time. 

A few articles I’ve read have suggested that that particular time of the morning is when the veil between the subconscious and conscious minds or, as some believe, between the spiritual and earthly planes, is the thinnest thereby offering the subconscious/spirits their greatest opportunity for communication. It seems that when I wake up at that time I will, more often than not, remember more of the dream I was just having, rather than sleeping through the night and then remembering my dreams the next morning. Maybe my subconscious, or the spirits, want me to remember that dream or some particular image from that dream, as if they are showing me something.

Why can’t they simply write me a note?

Sometimes the meaning isn’t very clear. Other times, it becomes clear on reflection. 

A while back, I had a dream where I had traveled with my ex to visit a Facebook friend in the far distant city of Melbourne, Australia. In real life, my friend had just moved in with his boyfriend, but in my dream he had moved in with a different Facebook friend, coincidentally from the same city! And I'm not sure they know each other. (Dreams are indeed interesting.) As soon as we were settled in my friends’ house, I went off to explore the city. Alone. I found myself standing on the corner of an intersection resembling Times Square or Piccadilly Circus with all the bright neon lights. Oh, and there was a freeway overpass above me, like one you’d find in San Francisco. I was standing on this corner trying to figure out which way to go, and calling my friend asking for directions.

I think I understand what this dream means. I’m off on a journey alone, trying to find my way, and that life is beautiful (that’s the neon lights) but confusing (the asking for directions). As for the overpass, I’m not sure. Perhaps it means I’m not yet on the right road, but it’s within sight. I kind of like that analogy. I think I’ll take it.

Sometimes, when I’m in the process of waking, when I’m still in that semi-dream state of being conscious of the world around me, but not yet wanting to open my eyes and face the light, I see images floating on my eyelids. These aren’t so dreamlike but images as if I had been staring at something then quickly closed my eyes and the image is then burned into my eyelids. Well, the negative form of the image.

The other morning as I was lying in this peaceful dream state, I did picture some images. And they caught me a bit off-guard.

They were puzzle pieces. Nothing more. And they were falling into their respective places forming the finished picture, which, incidentally, was blank.

I think this imagery is quite clear.

Things in my life are falling into place.

Yet, I won’t know what the finished picture is because I’m still living it. And the picture won’t be complete until I’m ready to leave this place and venture into the next plane.

I find it all positive.

Or synchronistic, as I once wrote this stanza in a poem…

Pieces of a puzzle scattered over a vast tabletop.Some hidden from view,Some on the floor,
Some missing and maybe lost.
A picture finally complete
No gaps,
No holes,
The corner pieces in place,And the edges, too.  

YouYourself
Finally togetherAfter all these years.

I wrote that poem around 1984-85 when I was coming out, putting those pieces of my life together. I was 26 then, thinking I’d have it all figured out shortly.

Youth can be so beautifully naive. 

Is there ever a time when we are fully complete?

I like to think the picture keeps changing as we evolve.

I like that analogy, I think I’ll keep it.