Undertow, Courage to Love

Love sometimes gives us courage to be ourselves

....and may take a ghost to do so!

Seeing Beyond - A Coming Out Story

I have always said that real life stories are better than any fiction and this one is no exception. Coming out stories help many more beyond the storyteller, and The Last Laugh I heard on theMoth.org while resting this morning touched me.

Even now in 2009 it is a very brave thing to do, and Terrence did not run away.  Hearing this story I could not help remembering my own coming out so many years ago.

It really is a positive movement to accepting who you are. By the telling of Terrence Buckner's story it will signal much growth in the face of all the heartache and physical harassment he and others face.


Showing the importance of his mother’s love and acceptance. He is one of thousands that are facing a hostile world that sometimes cracks with compassion by touching others. Hopefully it provides a link between all of us. The seas are now calmer for his next greatest voyage.

The Passing Doctor

Many years ago, I called a friend for a primary care physician’s name who is gay friendly. He gave me his Dr’s name and number and I signed up with him. He was curt and efficient, with some pretend friendly… sprinkled on top. On his card it said his specialty was gastrointestinal, which I hoped never to need.  He was always passing both physically and in comments to others around. I remained with him for many years only because he was on my plan and knew me. I quickly moved to the doctor’s assistants because they would listen and spend 1 1/2 minutes more each visit. So, in effect, he was my doctor only because his name was on the door. We would speak, if I saw him, but as time passed I saw less of him. It was common to hear him rant at one of his employees or speak too loudly of a patient he was seeing in other rooms.

I saw this Dr. out once at a bar with his partner who just happened to be the billing person at his office. His partner was not even friendly in the bar, and I began to put two and two together that this was caused by the Dr.’s caustic and abusive manners. Later, when I had my bi-lateral strokes the first time I saw him afterward, he chewed me out for not coming to him for a referral instead of having any compassion for a man that could not speak or swallow…limping in. While going to outpatient treatment to learn to swallow and physical training, his office was kept up to date with my progress. At any time, he was only a phone call away from my status.  As time passed, I could tell he was amazed at my progress but never really said it besides saying I was fine. I was busy doing acupuncture to speed my healing process outside of his care.

One visit, he told me about a new stomach tube that instead of hanging down which I had to tie up to a necklace, there was a new kind which screwed in when you fed yourself, and unscrewed to a flat tab on my belly. He said it would free you up from that dangling one. I did not know at that time that I had made such progress swallowing that I would quickly be off the tube altogether. I pretty much was too busy working on getting better and sleeping a lot.

We went ahead because I so desperately wanted to trust someone after my brain injury. Meeting him there in a hospital across from his office, I laid down. Without finding out first which kind I had, which incidentally, was the balloon kind. With no anesthetic he proceeded to pull out by force my old tube, almost putting his foot on my belly. I was in so much pain, I said stop by drawing my hand across my neck, and give me some pain drugs…gestering, for I could not speak at this time. He was never good at listening anyway, so this was fun.  A supposed quick change was turning out to be a nightmare over the course of a couple hours. After getting it out, and putting the new one in, without an x-ray to make sure it was placed correctly, I went home.

I was hungry, and I was still 25 lbs under what I am now, living only on meal supplement drinks poured in. Alone again at home, I opened a can, and poured some in the tube immediately feeling discomfort while still having hunger pains. Stopped and tried later, thinking it was the trauma of the new tube. It just felt weird, like it was going into my body, but not in my stomach. I called my partner, who came later that day after work, and we both decided with my increasing pain to drive me to ER. The Dr would not meet us there even though we called his service. Our treatment was so bad that my partner started to make notes of everything going on. When I got x-rayed at ER, the tube was delivering food into my body cavity and not my stomach. They said I would run the risk of infection with all this food in my body, and they had to suction it out. It was a long day and night, needless to say. I was already 2 days without a meal by the time it all got settled. Less than 10 days later my tube was taken out, as I had developed enough swallow to survive without it. It was the second time a nurse said to me what did this guy do to you? My guess, his suggestion for the new tube was done solely to bill more money, and the person in charge at my outpatient was so pissed he never called to check before doing it.

Then came the $5000 in bills from the Dr’s office. I called and said I would not pay and was treated to tirades from his partner in billing. The Dr knew that I told him I would not pay for this unneeded procedure, and I think he was happy I did not sue him. My outpatient Dr was so angry that my primary care Dr never contacted them before doing this procedure. I let it go. I just had no energy left.

Things got back to normalish, and the Dr. was a bit friendlier. I continued to see other Dr’s in his office just to avoid his rants and short attention span. I built up a good report with another P.A. and stayed with him. I would occasionally talk to my primary care Dr, still joking and trying to put the past behind us. I did not bring up the tube mistake with him. Just about the time, I finally finished fighting with my Dr’s partner over the bill, that they never took off my account…I heard through friends that the partner killed himself drinking. A few years later passed uneventful as far as medicine goes, but I was trying everything alternative to help me. Then came the news that my Dr had a brain tumor, and would have an operation. I saw him a few times as his office back at work. I thought to myself maybe he will soften some, but I did not see much change in his personality. We talked about getting together to have a glass of wine but it never happened. Then his gradual withdrawal from practice signaling a worsening of his condition, I asked of him at his office.

Thinking that time is precious, I decided to go by his house to, in effect, say good bye. His house was an old church converted into a nice loft and not very far from my house. I ran his bell and he came to the door dressed up in a suit, and I said I came by to see how he is doing. I asked him for some time to talk, hoping to share some of my wisdom about life changing events or at the least give him a hug. He was not really happy to see me, and started in on another rant. But that was his way in almost every circumstance since I had known him. I said, “If this is not a good time…then I’ll leave,” walking back to my car. His tone changed a wee bit enough to say thanks in his awkward and roundabout way.That was the last time I ever saw him.

Punting Distractions

Running around my house, avoiding this post, by nibbling on walnuts(good for heart), and drinking a quarter size(10B) splash of Sharbat Rooh Afza in sparkling water. Which is like drinking grandma's underwear drawer sachet, my best description. If I satisfy myself with good things, then I avoid the unpleasant things that reside inside myself. I procrastinate writing this post, because it is a difficult topic, and at the same time I don’t want to come across as beating myself up. With a lot of contemplation, hopefully, I can access the little bit of wisdom that floats to the surface above the quagmire of life. It came me yesterday as a flash, while not in a depressive mood, that my ability to have fine skills of discernment came out of the dissatisfaction I had in myself. From early on, I did not have a love of myself, based on #1-being gay and #2-having a generally unloving father in the formative years. So, I ended up with a fragile ego, until I came out at 18. This lead to some understanding of who I am. But in the process of growing up, my dislike of certain aspects of myself made me turn to try to find pleasant things in life. I began collecting things that were beautiful, and later trying food that pleased my senses. Honing my skills in visual arts, and developing my good taste in just about everything. I could not stop my pursuit of finer things, trying to put out the fire of discontent. So, you say, you transformed!… stop and think. Sure, it worked and it helped with my career choices, health choices, partner choices etc. I am still alive and healthy, really. I made a few bad choices but who hasn’t? I am not on any drugs, or drink to excess. I have great friends, a great partner and a loving family(dad passed). So, why am I thinking about this? It really seems foolish. I will tell you why. A life built around trying to make the world more beautiful to oneself is fraught with constant misery. The potential of never being satisfied.

Now, how can I become wiser? And what legacy do I leave? The nice things I have created are temporary, and in ten years they will be gone and forgotten. I will exist only in the heads of people that know and respect me. That truly is rebirth to me. What tasted good me now, will never translate to a positive thought of me in the mind of a close friend later. I am putting too much into things that will cease to be a true cause of happiness for me. Looking at all the art I have collected, and now…even though I like it and still marvel at the artist’s devotion, it only becomes a force to tie me down to indecision. Let’s just say, if I die tomorrow, my things will become a symbol of me, that my loved ones have to dispose of.(don’t worry, this is not a cry for help). How wise is giving pain to those you love? Even indirectly. So, what I am getting down to is that if I want an even better rebirth, I had better work on creating the good karma of helping others. To really help others you have to be truly happy in your heart and being. Whenever you see a wise monk or even the Dali Lama, you see their core being is a wisdom being. They know that attachment to anything is a cause of suffering. That everything changes.

The Abbott of the temple I was at in June, had wisdom that he did not have to speak about for me. His pure intention and action I observed were dhamma. Sure, I can go to temple here and make some progress, meditate on my own and in a group. But living the good life and the spiritual life will not be a fast path to enlightenment. We never know when our death will happen, and I am not getting younger even with all the creams and vitamins. Big Surprise. So, I can keep safely living my life like I do now. Or, I can try the monk’s life again in a slightly longer time frame like 3 months leading to a year’s trial. It is only talk at this point, and I am not irrational or running from anything. What I am running towards is wisdom and a wish to make valuable contribution to those around me. That will be my legacy.

Are You In or OUT?

Editing photos and this one came back to me, just as it appeared to me at that time to shoot it. The lonely novice when everybody else is playing. He was a obviously gay novice(kateoy in thai), who was in a cleaner robe most of the time. I used to see him come check out his reflection in the glass widow of the on-site radio station, near my kuti every morning. I once told him that I am his older sister(phee saao in thai) when he brought some iced coffee one day, jokingly. It becomes obvious very quickly when you are gay, even as a young kid that you are not part of the world by societies terms. It was for me, it was for my friends, and it still happens now to kids. Straight people think if they just ignore it… it will go away.

They often assume the perception that we are treated as second class citizens is all in our heads. But there is a certain non-inclusion of us in everyday life, and TV is no help.
Now, we have made great progress, but we still have a long way to go. One of the goals of my blog is to put a face on gay relationships and gay life. That is not always about the party, yet we can have fun. It is about a movement closer to equality. We really share the same problems in life as straights, and are have much more in common than not. Who we love is not a choice, like vanilla or chocolate ice cream. And for all you hiding it, you are actually making life more difficult.

Reflecting on Conditions

While I am busy, often alone, I am usually deep in thought. Then to top it all off, my computer would not restart. Long, story short, I got it fixed, and I used my Buddhist teachings on patience to force myself to at least pretend that I am calm. A shift in awareness of how we react to problems we encounter. We will never be free from problems, only free from how we perceive them. I acted patient and understanding all while thinking in my head I could be disaster to lose most of my photos and work. Waiting for almost four hours with no appointment. It made the whole process better, and in fact, the man at the Apple store were nice enough to do it free. I made sure I thanked him personally at least twice directly.
I was reflecting on the fact that I lived in an accepting society I would be a bit better off and even more successful. While growing up gay, I would have been less likely to have spent 10 plus years trying to undo the pain I endured in school and adolescence. I felt deep down that I was less than everyone else and it played on who I was at that time. I would have more able to focus on my future and plan even better if I did not get challenged about who I am. This might even sound bitter, but we have to take what we are given and run with it. I have made the best out of extraordinary conditions from being gay to now being disabled. I have learned from my mistakes, and have made the effort to make others lives being gay easier through protest and awareness so that now there is far more acceptance. Having now turned to helping others who are in a similar state whether being poor or disenfranchised, I now feel lucky. I still look at my life with reflection and with an end goal of making the difference and feeling like I contributed to a kinder world.

Right, bicycles

Driving my car, the other day I signaled to turn right. Looking carefully, because I was aware that I passed two bicycles, a block earlier and they were moving fast. I stopped to let them ride by, before completing my turn. Suddenly, the woman in the SUV behind me blew her horn. We are talking about 45 seconds, before I turned after they passed safely. I took a lot not to jump out of my car and point to the two bicycles to the impatient woman. I had to remind myself again, that everyone wants to be happy. If I had made a scene, all it would make her do is become more upset. This might actually set in motion a chain reaction where more people would be caught in her impatience, after I pointed out how silly she was. I have a lot in my mind and I can only guess that she may, as well. “Being right,” that thing I sometimes get caught up in, that does not offer much in sharing the world and peace. This for me, came out of being looked down upon as a gay person, especially when I was young and vulnerable. Being right when you are told that you are wrong. It may still an issue with society, but I hope I can evolve myself. That, I can change.

Odd man out

I walked home from Temple, happy but thinking how I should present the reasons for the following videos Fight Hate Crimes! and Lift the Ban. I could tell you many stories, some quite sad but I'll just make this short and sweet. School for me was pretty traumatic, only because I was different than most other boys. I was fairly masculine, but not enough for the others' satisfaction. In junior high I had friends and my dirt bike, which allowed me to get out of the house and to work. All through school I got teased by a lot of bullies and even one high school coach, calling me "faggot". One time it was enough to make me fight back with a bat in baseball when my pants were pulled down. Sheesh, did I feel alone that day when no one stood up for me. That helped me and combined with my Dad who helped to get me out of P.E. He did this only because he hated P.E. and not because had real revelation as to who I was, as an individual. My friends left a lot to be desired, and a few of them ended up stealing cars. I passed on this, which that alone made me a sissy, but saved my life when one ended up dead. One friend was shot in the back by the police while he was scaling a fence fleeing from the crime scene. Thankfully, I had my job, some good sense and kept fairly busy. I wanted to be approved by my peers, but in almost all cases I never really was until I left high school. So by being assaulted all through school, many times in life and at jobs, I can identify with Hate Crime victims. Plus I feel that I have made a significant contribution to society, paid my taxes, and never been arrested so it is time to Lift the Ban!