Happiness

A friend recently asked me a very deep, personal question. But, before I could answer, my mind took me on a quick trip back to my younger years.

I viewed this surprise trip down memory lane as inspiration for this post. Or as a sign I needed to write it. 

He asked me, “Are you happy?”

The moment he asked me this, a book that belonged to my grandfather flashed before my mind’s eye. As a child, I loved this book both in its simplicity of text and artwork. As an adult, I now see that its simplicity is also its depth. The book was “Happiness is a Warm Puppy” by Charles Schulz,1962. 

Yes, that Charles Schulz of Peanuts fame. As I recall, the book consisted of one line for each character or pair of characters describing what happiness meant to them: 

• One page shows Lucy hugging a confused Snoopy expressing “Happiness is a warm puppy.”
• Another page shows Linus all snuggled in bed, “Happiness is sleeping in your own bed.”
• And yet one more illustration shows Lucy with a pair of tweezers and Linus examining his finger with the phrase “Happiness is finally getting the sliver out.”

(Disclaimer: I do not have the book and these are pages I was able to see on various listings on the internet.)

The other memory that sprang to mind when my friend asked me that question was a song my family enjoyed whenever it came up on the 8-track. (Yes, I’m that old!)  “Happiness is...” by Ray Conniff sums up this post in its core lyric: “Happiness is different things to different people.” It goes on to list various people and what makes them happy:

• To a preacher, it’s a prayer
• To a golfer, it's a hole in one 
• To a father, it's a brand new son

You get the picture, we all have our own definition of what happiness is, from a warm puppy to a brand new son. Granted these are external moments of happiness. All of which can be lost in a moment.

Which leads me to my point, true happiness is an inside job. We choose what makes us happy. We choose to be happy where we are in that moment.

Now, I’m not suggesting that we should try to make ourselves happy while in a relationship that may be toxic or no longer working. Nor should we settle for or stay in a relationship or job if we are truly miserable and no longer consider ourselves to be happy. Nor should we accept something that we truly can’t live with while in a relationship or job that is doing well. Obviously some compromises can be worked out. 

For a number of years, I was in a relationship and believed I was happy. But, I was only happy because I was in a relationship again right after my first parter had passed. I was no longer alone. The relationship began to change after a few years but I was still with someone who loved me so I felt happy, after all relationships are forever, aren't they? And, I didn't want to be alone again. Naturally.

Quite a conundrum.

I have come to believe we must first be happy with ourselves. The moment we decide to place our happiness in someone else’s hands, they will drop it every single time. Every. Single. Time.

Nothing is perfect. No relationship, no job, nothing.

So, if nothing is perfect that begs the question, can we define what happiness is within the context of a relationship? Or any situation, for that matter. I feel that as long as we can be happy with ourselves in an imperfect situation, we can accept the challenges and imperfections as long as we are not settling for something less than we deserve.

Many of us believe happiness is a destination. If only I had..., if only I were..., if only I worked..., if only my partner...

And yet, when we get those dream items often we aren’t any happier. In my opinion, chasing happiness like this is similar to dangling the carrot in front of the donkey to get it to move forward. Sometimes we end up focusing so much on leading the donkey, we take our eyes off our path and end up who-knows-where.

So, this brings me back to my original point, we need to be happy with ourselves before we can be happy externally.

With a potential relationship on the horizon, I am focusing on my happiness first. I am not depending on anyone else to make me happy. 

No one can. 

It’s my job, my responsibility and no one else’s.

So, to answer my friend, “Yes, I am happy."

Attraction

There’s an old sexist saying, “Clothes make the man.” I think clothes can make anyone. Look what they did for Patrick Swayze in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.

Patrick Swayze as Vida Boheme,
Too Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar

There’s another much less sexist saying, “We are what we eat.” We eat junk food, we have a junk body.

And both Jesus and Buddha said something along the lines of our thoughts create our reality.

And then there’s the idea that like attracts like. Except with magnets. There, like repels like. So I guess we have two theories of attraction.

As well as a Law of Attraction.

How does that apply to us?

It seems that according to Jesus and Buddha (and a few other spiritual and psychological leaders) our thoughts create our reality. Whatever mindset we maintain, we maintain in life. If we believe we will never find the dream job, we will never find the dream job. If we believe we deserve poverty, we will live in poverty. If we believe all men or women cheat, we will attract men or women who cheat. If we believe we aren’t good enough, we never will be good enough.

It’s like what Henry Ford once said, 

All of this is fine in theory, but how does it seem to work? With magnets, it’s an opposite polarity thing.

But, with our thoughts, we are attracting like thoughts. So, it'a a same polarity thing. 

Follow me here.

We are made up of matter, which in turn is made up of atoms which are made up of energy. Energy vibrates. Different energies vibrate at different frequencies. Similar frequencies would attract one another. Have you ever noticed someone and felt there was something off about them? They may have been sending off a bad vibe or frequency which clashed with yours. Or, conversely, you were drawn to them? Their energy may have been pulling you toward them.

Perhaps this video can explain better than I can.

But, changing a mindset is not easy because we are steeped in old patterns of belief. 

Beliefs such as we don't deserve the good things in life. When we suffer a breakup, why do we seem to blame ourselves? What more could I have done? We believe we are always at fault or not good enough.

If we don't get that job we wanted it was because we believe we didn't deserve it.

Where do these beliefs come from?

Some come from our past. I grew up in an environment where I never felt I was good enough.

Some come from society. As a youth questioning my sexuality, I didn't want to be "one of those dirty old men" lurking in dark alleys.

Some come from religion. Nor did I want to be condemned to the fiery pits of hell for loving someone regardless of gender.

Changing those beliefs isn't easy, but necessary to raise our vibration in order to attract what we truly deserve.

So, how do we do that?

We just do.

Yeah, I know. Easier said than done.

I'm starting with positive affirmations.

I'm focusing on what I have, not what I need.

I'm rewarding myself intrinsically for completing something challenging, for meeting a goal and not punishing myself for incomplete work.

I'm focusing on embracing my shadows and working with them, not letting them work against me.

I'm focusing on being me and letting go of caring what others think. After all, it's not my business what they think of me, only what I think of myself.

I'm focusing on loving myself.

Just as I am.

The Queen of Happy Elephants

I felt guided to share this particularly interesting reading.

Every morning I pull a card from three different decks to give me something to think about during the day. I draw one card from

• the standard Rider-Waite Tarot deck,
• Steven Farmer’s Power Animals Oracle and
• the Universe Has Your Back deck by Gabrielle Bernstein.

The reading the other day was quite interesting for a couple of reasons.

As I do this nearly every morning and due to the odds of the different decks, I anticipate a different card each day. But, I was surprised to pull the Queen of Wands twice in a row. And she came up reversed both times! Now, before you start saying she just stayed on the top of the deck from the day before so it’s just a repeat, I will poo-poo that notion right here and now. After each reading, I shuffle the card back into the deck before returning it to the box. Sometime in the afternoon, I will do a practice reading which means I am shuffling and cutting the deck again. After that reading, I shuffle the deck once more before returning the deck to the box. Then, I shuffle the deck 3-4 times and cut it before the reading the next morning. So, the deck was thoroughly shuffled and cut before the next day’s reading. Obviously, this Queen had something to say if she pushed her way back to the top of the deck. But what exactly? And why was she reversed both times?

In an upright position, the Queen of Wands represents the energy of someone charismatic, passionate about life and cheerful; she knows what she wants and sets out to get it. She speaks her mind, and lives her truth. The reversal would indicate her energy isn’t in full force in my life right now, but I’m possibly coming into it, stepping out of my shell a bit. The fact she came up reversed twice in a row, in spite of all the shuffling and cutting, would echo the fact she’s pushing her way into my life, if I let her. I mean, it’s not a bad lesson to learn.

Now, let’s look at the other cards.

From the Power Animals I drew Elephant. His message was “Resolve: You will overcome any obstacles.” The back of the card says to move forward without letting anything get in the way of your heart’s desire. I mean what would get in the way of an elephant? Besides, fear. My own fear. Of my goals. My own fear of being judged or others’s disapproval. I must also learn not only to speak, but live my truth. And have fun along the way! Hmm, good points, all of them.

The third card read “Happiness is my birthright.” I think that is a given even if we don’t always believe it or believe we are not worthy of it. I don’t think that the Divine Source of the Universal Gods and Goddesses really wants us to be unhappy. And if we are indeed unhappy, then we are responsible for changing our own circumstances to become happy.

Let’s piece this together: the Queen of Wands twice reversed is strongly suggesting I might not be at my best right now, that I’m not as passionate about living life as I could be, and I should take a more active role in life; while Elephant is suggesting not to let anything get in my way of my dreams and goals, to let go of fears, to live and speak my truth which reinforces the Queen about being more active and ultimately that will all lead me to my birthright, Happiness.

I’m going to take Elephant’s message about living and speaking my truth to also include writing. So, this blog will be more about my truth, which it always has been. Now, maybe I’ll go deeper into it.

So, beware! 

The Queen of Happy Elephants has spoken!

So mote it be! 

Thanks 2013, I Needed That!

As I reflect on 2013, and anticipate 2014, I am looking back in order to look ahead and become more aware of who I am by acknowledging who I was. I had initially planned on reflecting on all the events of 2013, but chose not to. But, instead I found a post I initially wrote this past summer, but for some reason never published. And yet, it seems very apropos for today. ~JB

Pride.

Among the definitions of pride at Dictionary.com are these:

1. a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.
2. the state or feeling of being proud.
3. a becoming or dignified sense of what is due to oneself or one's position or character;   self-respect; self-esteem.

Looking at some of these definitions, or portions thereof, a proud person could be considered almost haughty. I guess it's how you carry yourself. 

After all, pride comes before the fall.

For many of us, Pride does come before the fall, in the summer. 

In June.

And we sometimes define it as a giant party.

I have attended various LGBTQ Pride events, on and off since coming out. I marched in the parade a couple of times before meeting my first partner and then, we would attend it and watch it together. But after a while, it became the same parade year after year. I mean, how many times can you watch hot young men dancing in their underwear (or less) to heart-stopping bass-thumping music on the bed of a flatbed truck?  What made the parades worthwhile were those community organizations that marched: Aids Project Los Angeles, The Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center, Gay Teachers of Los Angeles, Evangelicals Together, and Black and White Men Together were some of the community organizations that marched in the parades. Some of those groups are no longer appearing in the parades or have disbanded altogether. 

As LGBTQ visibility grew many major companies began having employee groups march in the parades.  Let's not kid ourselves, it was to show their acceptance so we would give them our business. After all, some gay couples allegedly have more disposable income as we don't have children to raise.

Stereotypes change, and same-sex couples are indeed raising children. But, I digress.

Group Shot!

Enough of the history lesson and back to the meaning of pride.

I marched in the parade this year.

I have been following both the National Office and Los Angeles Chapter of the Gay, Lesbian, Straight Education Network on Twitter, @glsen and @GLSENLosAngeles, respectively. When I saw a tweet asking for more marchers in the LA Pride Parade, I signed up.

7:00 Parade morning rolled around, ugh. But, I'm usually up anyway as my cat can't tell the difference between a work and non-work day.  I performed my morning rituals, and decided not to drive to  West Hollywood, as parking is a major headache on a regular day, and now with a gatrillion LGBTQ people storming the smallest city I know of with the seemingly most restrictive parking, finding a place to park would be a major migraine! So, I opted for public transport.

We've started moving! I'm carrying  their banner!

There were two reasons I decided to march this year. When my ex left, I could count my gay male friends without lifting a finger. Not even one. Our married life had left us somewhat reclusive due to budget cuts, the regular housework, the house and yard maintenance, the furry children and the sheer fatigue from teaching.  We had been members of a gay dance club, but when he began his coursework for his teaching credential, his time for dancing was limited, and even though I continued going, we eventually dropped out. And the people seemed to drop us. 

With no gay male friends, I lost touch with my gayself. What does it mean to gay? Other than the attraction to other men? Do I have to like Judy Garland songs? Or Lady Gaga? Katy Perry? Musical Theater? Must I go to brunch on Sundays? Or throw/attend lavish awards show parties?  I needed to find that community support, that community understanding, that community itself. I needed to expand my social circle. I needed to come back out.

Somewhere along the route!

I also needed that sense of pride from the community. Coming home to animals who love me is great, but they can't talk to me, reassuring me the bigots are wrong, they can't help me talk through rough times when I feel the pain of discrimination, of bigotry, of buried self-inflicted homophobia. I recall very clearly how proud I was, how loved I felt when I first stepped onto the parade route all those years ago. The energy this time was different. I still felt love, but maybe I was used to it after all these years. Maybe it was because I was older and no longer fresh out of the closet. I was about two years out last time, not thirty. Maybe the crowd was more used to the parades, since its inception in 1970.  


Maybe I just did it for my own sense of Pride.

JB- And, maybe I did it for my first steps in moving forward back into the community and into 2014! 

Yes! That's It!

For a few months; okay, a couple of years, I've been debating/contemplating/worrying about dating.

I've expressed my fears, concerns, bewilderment at the prospect.

And while I do acknowledge my fears:

• fear of intimacy;
• fear of rejection;
• fear of repeating past mistakes not learning past lessons; including
• settling for someone I'm not worthy of;
• not accepting that the relationship was no longer working,
• not accepting that it is okay to end it,
• losing too much of myself in the process,
• not heeding my instincts early on,
• not taking care of myself in the process,

there was still something else that was missing in all that. And I couldn't put my finger on it.

Until this morning.

I woke up earlier than usual and since I couldn't get back to sleep, (my mind had already begun racing through the events for the day) I started reading the news on my iPad. I eventually found myself at the Huffington Post, where I check out a number of regular pages. One page in particular I check out is "Divorce." While the majority of the articles are written by women for women, I still try to 'find' myself in the articles, blogs, etc. Sometimes I do.

This morning was one of those times.

I read an article entitled "To Date or Not to Date? That is the Question," by blogger Aimee Vlachos. That is where I have found myself, at that particular crossroad. Do I? Don't I? Friends have been trying to fix me up; a lesbian couple had a friend for me the moment they heard I was single, which ironically was the same night I met them; friends have been asking if there are any 'prospects', Facebook friends have been openly posting on my Timeline, other friends telling me "I just want you to be happy, you deserve it."

And even though I have been reticent to begin dating, their 'encouragement' (which I acknowledge comes from their love for me) has only made me dig in my Aquarian heels a little deeper. (We can be so obstinately stubborn determined to do things on our own timetable!)

And the unsettledness as to why I didn't want to begin dating was still gnawing at me. Was it really all the pressure in addition to my own fears? Was there something else? After all, a friend who had broken up with his boyfriend had already moved on to someone new; and my ex had as well. So, why hadn't I? Yes, I know, we all march to our own drummer. And sometimes mine isn't even in the same parade as the rest of society. (It's an Aquarian thing.)

But, that wasn't it, either.

As I read this article, Ms. Vlachos mentioned being very happy for her friend who had found happiness after losing her husband two years prior. Yet, Ms. Vlachos still wasn't ready to look for her own happiness, two years after divorcing her husband. The idea of meeting, and talking to someone new gave her a sense of claustrophobia. Gods, can I relate!  I had blogged earlier that even the thought discovering another man's idiosyncrasies gave me the creeps, something Ms. Vlachos and I both understand. And for me, the idea of sex and intimacy had me considering a new career in the priesthood. (Okay, maybe not the best analogy, but I make my point.)  I had toyed with the idea of a platonic roommate but that, too, filled me with a sense of entrapment. So, obviously I didn't want anyone in my life or personal space, right now.

While there are a few other things Ms. Vlachos and I share, there is one thing we might not. She states she is still looking for that piece of the puzzle she doesn't have, while I think I have found mine.

I have been in a relationship since 1986. My first partner and I started dating that summer and remained together until his death in 1994. Approximately ten months later, I met He-Who-Would-Become-My-Ex-Husband. We were together from that moment until 2010. So, short of about ten months in between my husbands, I have been in a relationship for twenty-four years!

When that hit me, it was like a 2x4 upside my head. I nearly leaped out of bed like Archimedes at the baths, "Eureka!" It all made sense. I didn't want to date anyone else, because I wanted to date myself. I wanted, no, I needed this time to get to know me again, to celebrate ME!

And it's about effing time.

Photo courtesy of GJ Spiller Photography!

For the original article, click here:

A letter to my bullies

Me, 12 years, sixth grade

Like many people, and almost all LGBTQI people, I was bullied. In an effort to reclaim my power, I want to now address those who were my tormentors. A fellow gay writer, Kergan Edwards-Stout, wrote a letter to his bully; and yes, that partly inspired me to write this one. While his letter addressed his primary bully, I cannot do that. My family moved quite a lot through my school years and I seemed to be a target wherever we lived, so I had multiple bullies in multiple places. I detail this in a prior post, Sticks and Stones.  So, I address all of those who harassed me between fourth grade and today.

The other inspiration came from an article by a gay therapist, Ken Howard, who stated we might not necessarily truly overcome the hurt and pain from abusers and tormentors; however, we can attempt to move beyond it by honoring those who stood with us.

So, here goes....

To all of you who teased, tormented, picked on, insulted, bullied and threatened me, I thank you.

For years, you teased, tormented, harassed, called me names like "fag", "faggot", "queer", "sissy", "Missy", "geek" and "nerd" among others.  For years, I endured shame and self-loathing, fearing that what you were thinking and saying about me was true; that I was a fag, a faggot, a queer, or a sissy. In the end, you were right. I am what you saw and loathed and belittled. I am gay.

I'm okay with it; you don't have to be.

For years, I endured the pain and the hurt of never knowing, of never understanding why you all hated me so. Just because I was a little different? Because I was not quite the 'boy', the 'man', you felt I needed to should be in your eyes? For years, I have given you that power over me. I have wondered what I had done that was so unbelievably offensive to you. I was only being myself, nothing more, nothing less. Yet, it wasn't good enough for you.

And I say now, just being myself IS good enough for me.

And that's all that matters.

I could rationalize why you all acted this way; you were threatened by my differences, you were afraid of your own latent homosexuality, you were afraid I'd make a pass at you and turn you 'queer' or you were simply assholes and bitches. But, I'm not going to waste more of my time or energy on the likes of you. In the end, it is not necessary that I understand why. What's done is done. While these acts of yours have left me hurt and scarred, these scars tell my story. I honor them. I own them. I thank you for making me who I am.

A survivor.

High School graduation, 1976

I will admit there were times I almost didn't survive. I was so unhappy and miserable because of what you said and did, I almost didn't make it to today. I couldn't escape, you wouldn't stop. I felt the only way to make it stop was with the ultimate escape. And yet, something, somehow, some way prevented me from picking up that knife, from taking those pills, from driving off a cliff. Maybe I was too afraid to actually die. Maybe I was too afraid I'd be unsuccessful and then have to answer my family's questions. Maybe, back then I didn't realize my own strength and/or that the Universe had bigger plans for me.

For whatever reason, I am grateful to be alive. It does get better.

Recent life events have stirred up these fossils of my past and the pain buried deep within that you caused. It is now up to me to move beyond that past without forgetting it, without dishonoring it and to look forward to the future because of it.

While I may not be able to completely erase the pain and hurt from my emotional memory, I do not have to let it control me.

And I won't.

February 2013

Believe me.










To view my post, "Sticks and Stones" click here.

For Kergan Edwards-Stout's letter to his bully, click here.

For Ken's website, click here.

Date Night

I went on a date the other night with a pretty nice guy.

Me.

Yes, I am calling it a date, not just going out for something to eat.
 
My favorite restaurant had opened a second location just ten miles away instead of twenty and I wanted to check it out. While the second one doesn't necessarily have the same ambiance as the original which sits half a block from the ocean, and is quite newer, only four months versus thirty-eight years, it was the food that I was craving. And I wanted to compare it to the original. After all, saving ten miles of wear and tear on my car when I'm craving authentic fish and chips, or bangers and mash with a black and tan to chase it, is worth it. The big drawback is the newer location doesn't have the gift shop/bakery next door. So, I will still have to make the trek into Santa Monica for British goods, though I am sure I could find some things locally, if I looked hard enough. Being so near the ocean, though, is a nice bonus for those treks into Santa Monica.

Back to the date. It was a pleasant evening, I enjoyed the company and just being out of the house was incredibly relaxing. In fact, after dinner, I didn't even want to go home. When I had finished the meal, Irish Beef Stew-the Saturday night special, I ended up driving along Ventura Blvd. and eventually went into a New Age bookstore I knew. Not finding anything of interest, with the need for coffee calling, and perhaps something sweet as well, I headed off to find the nearest Starbucks. As I was out of my neighborhood, I had only a faint idea where one was, and I eventually found my way there. This particular one had a counter, so I sat there for a while, sipping my latte, pondering my next move. It was still early, 7:30 PM or so, and any gay clubs wouldn't be opening or getting going for a while, possibly not even for at least an hour or so. I'm usually ready for bed around that time, especially during the school year. Even though this was a Saturday night, I had no excuse for not staying out late, but fatigue was indeed creeping in. To be honest, fear was too. While I seriously thought of going to a club, there are no nice ones here in this part of  LA. And if I did, what if someone started talking to me? Was I ready for that? I know I can refuse any unwanted offers, but the bad luck I've had with guys lately has only encouraged me to choose to remain single. I'm not ready for my heart to be a doormat, again. I went home.

In time, I may change my mind about staying single. My past lessons have taught me the more I look for something, the less I find it. I recently misplaced my checkbook and I looked everywhere for it; the place where I knew I last used it, the place where I thought I had taken it, the place where I usually keep it, and when I stopped actively looking; voila, it turned up. Ironically, it was in one of the places I had looked several times. Isn't that the way it usually works out? Stop looking and you find it.

I had a great time on my date with me. I enjoyed being out on the town, so much so, I think I'll do it again, and maybe next time I may take in a movie.

Or even go to a club. Maybe.


There are people who couldn't do what I did; go on a date with themselves. I'm not sure why. Perhaps they're embarrassed to be seen alone in a nice restaurant. Perhaps they might think others might think there's something wrong with them because they're alone in a nice restaurant. Perhaps they can't be alone with themselves or with their thoughts. It is strange, I admit. But, with (almost) everyone having a smartphone these days, you can read a book or a newspaper on an app, or get caught up on some game you're playing.  Learning to be alone with yourself is important. It gave me time to look into myself in a setting other than my house, because at home I get distracted by the memories of the past, or the dog and cat need or want attention, food or their meds, and by my future decorating plans. This also gave me an opportunity to relax. And, by treating myself to a night out once in a while is one way I'm learning to love myself again after a couple of difficult years.

After all,

God Save the Queen(s)!