Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Fuck Your Feelings, Christian!

 by Terry Dean Bartlett on Thursday, October 14, 2010 at 4:19pm
Gay Kids Are Dying, Fuck Your Feelings

October 14, 2010

Dear Dan:  I was listening to the radio yesterday morning, and I heard an interview with you about your It Gets Better campaign. I was saddened and frustrated with your comments regarding people of faith and their perpetuation of bullying. As someone who loves the Lord and does not support gay marriage, I can honestly say I was heartbroken to hear about the young man who took his own life.
If your message is that we should not judge people based on their sexual preference, how do you justify judging entire groups of people for any other reason (including their faith)? There is no part of me that took any pleasure in what happened to that young man, and I know for a fact that is true of many other people who disagree with your viewpoint.
To that end, to imply that I would somehow encourage my children to mock, hurt, or intimidate another person for any reason is completely unfounded and offensive. Being a follower of Christ is, above all things, a recognition that we are all imperfect, fallible, and in desperate need of a savior. We cannot believe that we are better or more worthy than other people.
Please consider your viewpoint, and please be more careful with your words in the future.
—L.R.

Savage:
I'm sorry your feelings were hurt by my comments.
No, wait. I'm not. Gay kids are dying. So let's try to keep things in perspective: Fuck your feelings.
A question: Do you "support" atheist marriage? Interfaith marriage? Divorce and remarriage? All are legal, all go against Christian and/or traditional ideas about marriage, and yet there's no "Christian" movement to deny marriage rights to atheists or people marrying outside their respective faiths or people divorcing and remarrying.
Why the hell not?
Sorry, L.R., but so long as you support the denial of marriage rights to same-sex couples, it's clear that you do believe that some people—straight people—are "better or more worthy" than others.
And—sorry—but you are partly responsible for the bullying and physical violence being visited on vulnerable LGBT children. The kids of people who see gay people as sinful or damaged or disordered and unworthy of full civil equality—even if those people strive to express their bigotry in the politest possible way (at least when they happen to be addressing a gay person)—learn to see gay people as sinful, damaged, disordered, and unworthy. And while there may not be any gay adults or couples where you live, or at your church, or in your workplace, I promise you that there are gay and lesbian children in your schools. And while you can only attack gays and lesbians at the ballot box, nice and impersonally, your children have the option of attacking actual gays and lesbians, in person, in real time.
Real gay and lesbian children. Not political abstractions, not "sinners." Gay and lesbianchildren.
Try to keep up: The dehumanizing bigotries that fall from the lips of "faithful Christians," and the lies about us that vomit out from the pulpits of churches that "faithful Christians" drag their kids to on Sundays, give your children license to verbally abuse, humiliate, and condemn the gay children they encounter at school. And many of your children—having listened to Mom and Dad talk about how gay marriage is a threat to family and how gay sex makes their magic sky friend Jesus cry—feel justified in physically abusing the LGBT children they encounter in their schools. You don't have to explicitly "encourage [your] children to mock, hurt, or intimidate" queer kids. Your encouragement—along with your hatred and fear—is implicit. It's here, it's clear, and we're seeing the fruits of it: dead children.
Oh, and those same dehumanizing bigotries that fill your straight children with hate? They fill your gay children with suicidal despair. And you have the nerve to ask me to be more careful with my words?
Did that hurt to hear? Good. But it couldn't have hurt nearly as much as what was said and done to Asher Brown and Justin Aaberg and Billy Lucas and Cody Barker and Seth Walsh—day-in, day-out for years—at schools filled with bigoted little monsters created not in the image of a loving God, but in the image of the hateful and false "followers of Christ" they call Mom and Dad.



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Sunday, October 10, 2010

An Invitation to Harmony

On my altar stands an auspicious statue of Buddha and in his left hand I've placed a small card that reads a single word: HARMONY. Standing upright, and with a poised expression on his face, he reminds me of a still- standing driver in the middle of a crowded airport, with a single-worded sign bearing the name of he or she for whom he waits.

"HARMONY"

As of late, meaning the last few years, my life  has not always been harmonious. I have definitely had lot's of fun and met some interesting people.  I've taken drugs celebrating the bastardization of two otherwise entirely innocent words: "party and play." And, as if somehow handed over by the Enlightened One himself, I've ingested drugs which promised and provided, though very briefly, ecstasy.

 But have I had  harmony in my life? Not so much.

I had that unexpected date with South Salt Lake Police and a child's school expulsion for drug use and that weird fling with the guy who said "I think I love you, now I just gotta get to know you" . And, in effort to somehow restore balance, there were the 12-step meetings, band-aid relationships, mega doses of vitamins and copious amounts of chocolate. But--and I'm sure you know what's coming here--of harmony, there wasn't much.

Yet, strangely, through all that, Buddha has remained, unscathed, holding a small invitation to a place that often felt worlds away: HARMONY.

What lesson is there for me from a still-standing statue holding a sign? Buddha said that he taught the Dharma, and once in a while he used words to do it. Surrounded at times by chaos, his silent stillness reminds me that harmony is not a place, but, rather a condition and to BE in a harmonious state I ought to stop looking for it. The act of looking for something, whether my house keys or state of well-being, is always hindered by knowledge that I don't have it. In one of my favorite episodes of Family Guy, Peter put a Twinkie on the end of a string, tied to stick which kept it just out of Chris's reach. The pursuit of said Twinkie kept the poor running, arms flailing, in circles. That's often how I have felt searching for a state of harmony placed just out of arms reach.

Thankfully, I'm starting to see things differently.Recently I had tea with a good friend who became the unsuspecting recipient of a lamentation about my daughter. I felt deeply troubled because she had made choices I didn't agree with. Sensing my upset, my friend put her hand on my arm, and, interrupting my  monologue asked "removing yourself from both past and future, what really is the problem?" It was obvious. There was none.Viewing the situation from the present moment, rather than chasing the resolution (that "Twinkie" suspended from a string) driven by fear, created a shift in perspective. I found a bit of harmony when confronted with fear regarding the well-being of my child, fears that, over the years, I had used to justify abusive self-criticism, obsession over things I could not control, and, eventually, drug use.

Shifting my perspective toward recovery allows me to step into sobriety--and serenity--one day at a time. Wanting that ever elusive cure, the ability to say I'm all healed up from my addiction, is overwhelming enough to reproduce similar anxieties to those described above. I'm clean and sober today; yesterday resides only in short-term memory and tomorrow only in my imagination.

My life is different today. There is a stronger sense of balance between my inner experience and the external environment. I appreciate chaos because it makes the stepping away from it much more fun. Today, harmony   doesn't feel like a place to arrive at, rather, just a way to make the journey a meaningful one.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

MEMO: May 26, 2010: Thank you, D.

Recently I fell in love.

It was a quick romance lasting only about a month and ending in upset. I wish things were different. If I could jump back through time to that particular moment when that particular thing was done and do things in a particularly different way, I would.

I suppose there's no need for the excessive use of the word particular above, no need to be purposefully vague. That particular thing that was done was a relapse. I chose to get high and consequently D. chose to end the relationship. So while I say I would change what happened if I could, I say that believing that everything happens, or, rather, I, on various levels of awareness, put things in motion toward an outcome, for a reason. "Nothing in God's world happens by mistake" according to one of the stories in the big book of AA. Put in only a slightly different way, if the universe in constantly conspiring on my behalf, then even the frustration, fear and anguish that characterize a drug addict's relapse are a part of that conspiracy. And, when someone I love chooses to end or shift the relationship in such a way that it makes my heart ache, that too is part of the conspiracy.

What really sucks is not knowing what the grand scheme is. I mean seriously, aren't I entitled to a full-page memo from God-Spirit-Universe explaining the intent and outcome of every action. I say that sarcastically, but the truth is I believe I am entitled to such a document. Actually, ballsy as it may sound,  I believe I am entitled to write the damn thing. Having said that, i still wonder how it is possible that me relapsing for what feels like the seven-millionth time is part of a conspiracy on my behalf?  And, when an incredibly handsome, intelligent, kind, thoughtful, masculine (sorry...you get the idea), man walks away, how is that benefiting me? I guess that's up to me to decide.

Purpose #1:  I knew when I relapsed I would be telling D. about it, and, while my denial/ego convinced me otherwise,  I knew it was a real possibility that he would, and there's no use mincing words here: dump my ass. When that's what happened,  I felt devastated, until I began to see it differently. Yes, the universe is indeed constantly conspiring on my behalf, it is constantly conspiring on D.'s behalf too. What  felt like a painful slap in the face to me, may have feltl like an arm of protection to him. When getting high causes me to feel regret and disgust in every cell of my body, his universal gift may be a calm resolve to firm up his boundaries toward such self-destructive behaviors.  Looking at the relapse in this way is not easy. It  does't instantly make that sting go away or that disgust dissolve, but, given time, I think it will.

Purpose #2: Falling in love with someone is a beautiful experience. Unfortunatley, I was starting to believe it wouldn't  happen  to me again. More specifially, I was beginning to see myself as incapable and unworthy of that kind of love. "Damaged Goods" is the label I  metaphorically taped to the back of my shirt in years past. Slowly, I've been chipping away at that label and my experience with D. showed me that I can, indeed, fall in love again. Even this stubborn, drug-addicted son-of-a-bitch is both capable and worthy of love.

So...thank you D. I feel really honored to have been your boyfriend. In a short amount of time we went through some shit with each other. We laughed a lot and cried some and created, at least for me, some really awesome memories. I'll always have a tender spot in my heart for you.....you big dork.

Shawn.

***   That concludes this memo. Be careful, it may self-destruct....just kidding.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Who Am I When I Am At My Best?



My wallet is thick. So thick that I've decided it's the reason for my lower back discomfort. In fact, I'm certain that someone, somewhere, some time ago, told me that studies have shown that the curvature of the spine caused by excessively thick wallets causes damage. Sometimes irreparable!

Naturally, I'd like to say that it's thick with cash, but, rather, I must admit a weakness of mine (perhaps even a disorder listed in the DSM): the hording, or at least collecting, of business cards. In every other aspect of my life I quickly get rid of excess, proudly calling myself a "minimalist." But for some reason I have difficulty discarding these inconspicuous little back-breakers.

To thumb through them, at least for me, is more than just entertainment. As that dreadful clique says, it's a walk down memory lane. There are cards from consignment store owners and foundation founders. Cards reminding me of appointments with doctors and therapists and case-workers and clients. Professional psychics, life coaches, lawyers and small business counselors are all represented on paper and held close to my... But, that's not all they represent, in fact, I think more than the person whose name is printed, these cards represent me. They're kind of like pieces of a gig-saw puzzle, when assembled a two dimensional picture of me will emerge.

But, really. Two dimensional? What a boring, non-enticing, unprovocative phrase! Who would chose a two-dimensional film when offered those funny glasses and tickets to a 3-D. What I did or who I saw on a certain day shows only the surface. From this pile of business cards one could easily ascertain that in recent years I've paid a few visits to mental health therapists and sought guidance from a tea-leaf-reading psychic, but missing are my personal experiences along with feelings and emotions that more accurately define my identity. So a better way to show who I am, inside and out, is what I'm looking for. I'm inviting suggestions and ideas.

Here's one. Several weeks ago, I attended a Life Skills class taught by the Megan Sillito (http://geniuscommunitynest.com/) From that, my mind keeps returning to an exercise where she invited us to recall past experiences when we felt real joy, authentic self-acceptance, a sense of well-being. And, I'd like to add one more: calm focus in the midst of what appears to be chaos. In other words Who am I when I am at my best? Descriptive phrases and adjectives about me, in those moments, where then written down. What began to appear was another picture of who I really am, a three-dimensional "portrait."

Memories flooded my mind: my father's death when I had made the decision to simply allow, without judgment, my sadness to find expression; the births of Cody, Hillary and Alec, when the muscles in my face ached because they had been so vigorously and proudly affixed a smiled on my face. I remembered feelings of accomplishment at graduation and at loosing almost 100 pounds; exhilaration at running naked with friends through Liberty Park. And, I remembered the day, after weeks of painful experiences surrounding coming out, when I knew I was going to be okay. Here, listed randomly, is what emerged from these memories:

  • Kind
  • I look for similarities rather than differences
  • I love and care about children
  • Mindful of one-ness and Buddha nature
  • Sensual
  • Sexy
  • Honest
  • Funny, even nerdy if it results in a hearty guffaw (Laughter heals the soul.)
  • Flirtatious
  • Creative. (I believe creating "things," whether that be children or a new and improved recipe for banana's flambe, is how we connect with the divine within ourselves.)
  • Adventurous
  • Courageous
  • Tenacious (sometimes ridiculously pig-headed)
  • Expressive
  • Two-spirited (I have no reservations about honoring both my masculine and feminine energy.)
  • Unassuming
  • Spiritual
  • Proud father
  • Progressively positive thinker
  • Mindful of body, mind, spirit connection

So, now what? I've decided that the above list of "characteristic business cards" is a more valid representation. Therefore, I'm cutting index cards in half and writing these adjectives on them. With the exception of the card that reminds of an upcoming appointment with my doctor, I'm throwing the old away and replacing them with the new ones: Who I am, when I'm at my best.



Monday, February 22, 2010

Every Movement A Choice



"Every movement we make is a choice - we are either creating through imagination or reacting from past experience. And while it may become tiring to continually choose, it is life." --Angie K. Millgate, http://touchofthephoenix.blogspot.com/

Angie...Thank you.

To the readers of the Index of Potentially Purposeful Stuff: after this, you really should check out "Moments of Awakening" by Angie K Millgate. Maybe it's a God thing, or the universe conspiring on my behalf, but it seems Angie often says what I need to hear the most.


Peace.



Friday, January 8, 2010

Baby Steps Toward Awesome-ness

Over a month it has been since I last posted. I'm not entirely sure why, except that I've had a dreadful case of writers-block. With that in mind...I think a gratitude list in is order.


1. I can translate language into powerful teaching tools. My daughter recently wrote something I appreciated. We were discussing the sometimes daunting and often overwhelming requirements for reaching my professional goals. Later she presented me with a list of things we had talked about entitled: "Shawn's awesome list of baby steps toward awesome-ness." It made me laugh, but, more than that, it allowed her sensitivity and insight to shine.

I recently heard a women say that no matter where we are in life, we should thank God for life exactly as it is in that moment. Not: "thanks, but, I want it better," or "my life is miserable and pathetic, God, but thanks." Rather, a shifting should occur allowing us to view our "problems" as nothing more than our teachers, and "burdens" as nothing more than strength building experiences.

That was echoed by a lecturer at Burning Man, 2009. "The universe is conspiring on your behalf," she said. I'm thankful that I have the ability to let words like those ruminate in my brain enough that when I really need them, they're available.

2. And, number two in today's list is this: I am grateful for my life exactly as it is in this moment. (Wait...did I say that?) Here's why:
a. It's Friday, late afternoon, and I'm becoming stir-crazy. I admit it, I want to become intoxicated, ridiculously intoxicated because of some recent events (none of which will I mention because they're NOT part of the present moment.) But, the fact that I'm feeling stir-crazy tells me I'm no longer automatically turning to intoxicants to cope with painful issues. That's pretty damn cool.
b. While making my way through the writing of this post, tears are flowing down my cheeks. I've always encouraged to children to "suck the marrow from the bone of life." Have fun. Enjoy all there is to enjoy. Be playful. Today, however, one of them "choked." I feel sad. Thanks, God, for this sadness. May I be the ready student and it the teacher. I'm realizing I have a lot still to learn.
c. The fact that one of my babes got himself into trouble today reminds me that he is, in fact, taking his own baby steps toward awesome-ness. He's finding his place on his journey throughout his life. Once again, that's pretty damn cool.

Wow...I Seem To Have Lost Interest InWriting This Blog.

It's been a long fucking while since I last posted in here. I wonder why... The answer is simple, really: I lost interest. For a while...