Wisdom

Beautiful Mom & Grandma, 1981

The other day while talking to my mom I heard something I had never heard before. She said that people who struggle and struggle their whole lives but never seem to get past their troubles are younger souls. They haven't been around for enough lifetimes to get past their obstacles. The people that conquer their turmoils and learn to flourish despite obstacles are older souls.  They've been around many lifetimes and have had more time to grow.  Wise words, indeed.  I firmly believe that we are reincarnated again and again in order to learn the lessons we are meant to. Perhaps when we truly become fully evolved beings our souls are then set free and our time on earth is done.
     The idea of reincarnation was never unusual to me. As a very young boy my Grandma Molly told me about reincarnation and I belived it.  Molly was also a very wise and spiritual woman and she opened my mind up to a lot of ideas that would be considered esoteric to some.  After learning about that I was 100% certain that I was King Tut reincarnated, I was beyond fascinated with Egypt and Egyptian mythology - perfect for a future goth.  When my mom got me tickets (2 years in advance) for the King Tut exhibit at The Metropolitan Museum of Art I was never happier. Grandma Molly lived waking distance to The Met and I always loved spending time with her in that magical place.
     Every time I talked to my grandma I felt like I learned something new. Even in her 90's she was still learning things about herself and was open to the fact that there is always more knowledge out there.  In fact, she taught me that we actually know less as we get older or, more accurately, we learn that we are just a small piece of a vast universe and many questions have no answers.  The same goes for my mom now.  Sometimes she just has a lovely insight into a situation or puts something into a perspective that I hadn't thought of. She's an amazing listener which leads to greater insight - when someone really hears your words they understand them more.  Most people are too busy thinking about what they are going to say next to actually hear what you are trying to convey.
     I've always felt a deeper connection to the matriarchal side of my family.  My whole life I've had a closer and more in tune relationship with women.  Even though I'm gay I've had a harder time communicating with men.  Maybe it's because the examples I had of who was actually around physically and emotionally were the women in my family.  My Grandpa was a very hardworking and loyal man and was always supporting us financially but I never felt close to him and I had a hard time having conversations with him.  At one point when I was a kid I had 5 grandmas (including 2 great grandmas and a step grandma) and 3 of them I was very close to.
     Now, every time I talk to my mom and even my dad, on occasion, I find that I gain some kind of insight or new perspective.  When I talk to my dad I usually learn something about myself and, often, the conclusions I come to are slightly uncomfortable.  With my mom though, besides the comfort and love I feel from her I also tend to hear pearls of wisdom and insight on how to navigate the rocky waters of life.  I try to be more like her all the time by being a better listener and trying to be more gentle - especially with myself.

The Kiss

"The Kiss" by  Gustav Klimt, 1907

Love comes in many forms, sizes and shapes.  Often, it comes at unexpected times and in unexpected ways.  The problem I encountered for many, many years was comparing all of my relationships to the one that I had idealized the most in my memory.  I was left unhappy and unsatisfied because nothing was ever exactly the same as that relationship again.  The truth of the matter is that every relationship is different and even the ways that love is felt can be different with each person.
     Some love is quiet and steady like a mountain stream and some love is wild and intense like an ocean at high tide.  Some love is easy, breezy and beautiful and some love is tumultuous,  tempestuous and tragic.  Sometimes lust is misconstrued for love and sometimes real love is rejected out of fear.  I think that deep, down inside we all know what is really good for us even if we cannot admit it when we are in it.  All I know is that it should feel good and not be a constant source of pain.  As obvious as that sounds a lot of people, myself included, have mistaken love for pain and tolerated much more than one should.
     My last and longest long-term relationship was very easy and simple in the beginning.  We hit it off, started dating and eased into a 4.5 year relationship.  There was never any huge fireworks or rocket-blasting, train-racing-through-a-tunnel passion but it was nice and mostly loving, at first.  I thought I finally knew what real love was.  The other things I had experienced were more like lust in the dust - fast, cheap, and outta control but not lasting.  The problem was that easy and simple turned into mundane and passion-less.  I started to go to bed and wake up feeling very alone and unloved even though I was physically sleeping next to another person.  I had resigned myself to spending the rest of my life with a man who was not warn and fuzzy and certainly not intimate on the level that I require.
     After it ended I was dead set that I would not embark on any kind of relationship again, at least not for a long, long time.  I also was completely aware that the purpose of that relationship was to teach me that I was, indeed, capable of sustaining and being involved in a long-term endeavor.  I had never experienced that before and was beginning to think I was unlovable and incapable of long-term love.  It didn't work out but it taught me a huge life lesson so essentially it was invaluable.  That lesson trumped the immediate feelings of failure and shame that I experienced directly following the break-up.
     Now, I have met someone quite unexpectedly that sent electric sparks throughout my entire being upon the very 1st kiss.  My ex actually told me at one point that people in relationships don't make out with each other!  WHAT???  Well, then who the fuck does?  I mean, this coming from the guy that couldn't even lift his head off the couch to mutter a "hello" when I returned home from a long-ass day of work.  My new boyfriend literally jumps up and runs to greet me with so much love in his being it almost makes me cry tears of joy.  It's that feeling where all you can think about is making out and every kiss is as exciting as the 1st.  Clearly, this is a different kind of love and the kind that I like a lot.  Like I love it!
     It's amazing to look at someone and see them beaming back at you with hearts in their eyes like a silly and cute emoji.  Nothing feels better and I think that the me of today is open to receiving it and giving it back.  My old self was closed off and scared and felt damaged and broken.  Those days are long over now and the hills are alive with the sound of music (and NOT Lady Gaga's version!!)  OK, I'm not THAT corny and/or gay but I am feeling very loved and loving and that's a pretty great place to reside.
     For many reasons lately, including basic sanity, I'm trying my best to live in the moment.  To not fall into the trap of wanting or thinking I need more than I have.  The key to happiness is loving what you have and not always trying to get what you want.  Of course, if you work hard, stay the course, persevere, and enjoy yourself oftentimes the things you want come along as well.  The same goes for relationships - you don't NEED one to survive but it's like the cherry on top of a delicious sundae.  Right now I'm blessed to have met a super sweet, loving and affectionate cherry and it just might be because I attracted a like-minded soul into my life.  Yeah, I think I'll go with that!




   
   

Oceanside

My current view 

What is it about the ocean that brings an instant calm to my soul? How is it that in this day and age there can still be something so majestic and powerful that it cleanses away all of my stresses and worries?  I'm currently reclining in a hammock on a 2nd story porch overlooking the bluest and calmest waters. There  is a slight ripple on the surface from the warm islsnd breeze other than that the robin's egg blue water is peaceful and quiet. Sure, the ocean is fierce and powerful and can cause serious damage but it's also a tranquil being. I suppose it mirrors the human experience in that way.

    I'm in Turks & Caicos which is a slice of paradise on earth but that feeling of the waters washing away all the BS of life happens to me whenever I'm near the ocean. I've had the same feeling at Coney Island, Province Town, Fire Island and even in Mogadishu, Somailia (yeah, I get around.)  That must be why humans have worshipped the seas and prayed with the tides for centuries now. The waves and currents magnetically, magically remove and infuse. It's like the earth breathing - in with the new out with the old. Everything that's important can be found in nature, it's what we are made of.

     It's so easy to get far removed from the true meanings of life. Especially when you live in LA, NYC, Chicago, Paris, London - any metropolitan area where the landscape is ruled by fame and fortune. Sure, it's awesome to be rewarded for your hard work and perseverance but no bank account or closet full of designer duds will ever soothe and nourish your soul.  I think what most humans are really after is love and peace and joy. If you could remove all circumstances of finance from the equation what would you love to be doing in this life?  It's not an easy question to answer for some.  I know I've struggled my whole life trying to figure out what I'm "supposed" to be doing. The one thing I know for sure is that it's important for me to do my best possible job even if I'm working in a situation that isn't my ideal. I can never get to another level if I don't love and respect the level I'm at. 

     Part of the reason why I've always been so adamant about travel and vacations is because it makes me love and appreciate my life even more when I can step away from it.  I love living in the city even though it gets tiring with all the people and cars in your face everyday.  Removing myself from that temporarily and sitting by the most fabulous source of nature reminds me that the world is huge and that I'm just a small part of it. This giant ocean clearly does not set its schedule based on my needs and desires. It's actually refreshing to realize that you are not in charge. I'm simply here to try and be the best version of myself that I can be and if that's all I ever accomplish it's totally enough. 

Don't Dis - Courage

My house for the next week!!!

I had an experience yesterday that left me feeling defeated.  I had a meeting with someone about a possible awesome opportunity and I was under the impression that I was getting my foot in the door before anyone else.  Turns out that I was actually really late in the game.  I was floored by this information even though I kept my sunny game face on.  This person told me not to be discouraged but the second she said that I went to that deep, dark place of "nothing EVER works out for me!"  It's like when you're upset and someone says "calm down" and a veil of red closes over your eyes and you wish that person bodily harm - perhaps that's just me but I highly doubt it.  Of course, she was right any number of things could happen because when you are dealing with humans there is always a large margin of error.  Tell 'em Large Margin sent ya!
     We can't control circumstances in life but what we can control is our reaction to them.  Unfortunately, after the meeting I was dejected, depressed and disconcerted and the only thing I could really do was take a nap.  That helped a bit.  I didn't stay in my dark place too long I eventually let it go and tried my best to see things in a glass half-full perspective.  I was bummed with myself for defaulting to that self-defeating mode.  All of these thousands of years of therapy that I've had, all the hard work that I've done on myself and I still default (at times) to gloom and doom.  This is why I find it incessantly annoying to be human.  Feelings.  Damn then to hell!  Don't even get me started on having to go to the bathroom - ugh!
     Today, I can see that the experience was actually very positive.  The meeting went very well and the woman I met said at least 3 times that she loved talking to me.  We talked about art, fashion, travel, Kate Bush even.  It was a great conversation if nothing else.  So, now, the outcome is not up to me - I showed up and did my best and that's all one can ever do.  I can forgive myself for becoming a gloomy teenager again because at least it only lasted 2 hours instead of 20 years.
     Often I wonder if I will ever figure out my purpose in this world.  Will I ever get to a place where all the pieces fall into place and career-wise it comes together?  I said to a friend earlier that at least all my exploring has made for a rich and colorful life.  I'm pretty sure that the only person on earth who ever thinks I am a failure is me.  One of my lessons in this life is to learn to be gentle and kind to myself, it's the hardest thing for me.  I'd never put up with the BS I inflict upon myself from anyone else.  In fact, I'd send that chump packing for judging me so.  Perhaps I should send that negative, bitter, judge-y part of myself packing - a one way ticket to oblivion please!
     Speaking of packing,  tomorrow I am off to Turks & Caicos for a week long vacation in paradise.  I'm excited to fulfill my rule of going to 1 new place every year and I also plan on leaving my brain at home.  I will not think about anything except the scenery while I'm gone and all the stresses of city life can stay behind in the city.  That is a reality that I have created for myself so, really, life is pretty amazing.

Fear of the Unknown

I have never been afraid to try new things or to go to new places.  However, I am pretty terrified when I think about the future, for some reason I primarily only project negative thoughts.  This is one of the reasons why living in the now is so essential to happiness.  Of course, it's impossible, even for Oprah or Eckhart Tolle, to be 100% in the now.  The human condition prevents this from being a reality.  We can practice and strive and aim and try though - constantly moving forward and doing our best to grow and change.
     It's also tricky to know the difference between making goals and projecting.  One cannot simply sit around and wish for the best and take no action.  Also, obsessing about every single detail of events that have yet to happen is detrimental.  I have learned that the trick is to set the goals, take all necessary and available steps and then let the outcome go - the outcome is not in our hands.  Sounds easy, right?  Hahaha, it sure ain't.
     Recently I had an amazing audition for a big national commercial for a well known product.  It went very well and I received a callback.  The night before my callback I decided that I would bring my A game and really show up and be available.  I meditated on prosperity that night (certainly, not an everyday practice for me), ate a healthy dinner, went to bed early and got a great night's sleep.  The next day I woke up and before I even got out of bed I decided I would have an amazing day and do my best to keep positive.  I had a healthy smoothie, exercised, and then went to the callback.  I even did a 5 minute meditation in the car before I went in just to center myself and calm my brain.
     When I walked into the room the clients and casting people were all very warm and receptive (usually, they act like you are not even present.)  I was charming, funny and had the room laughing.  I did my absolute best and I left feeling great.  As I was walking to the car I decided that no matter what the outcome was that I would be proud of myself for doing all I could do knowing that the rest was out of my hands.  It's hard to not think about the money in these situations.  National commercials can be big bucks and I'm the type of guy that spends money in my head that I have not even earned yet.
      I did not book the job - perhaps they went with a blonde guy, I will never know the real reason.  I did my best to not get into a downward spiral of failure and self - judgement.  I didn't achieve that 100% but I did maintain a pretty decent level of keeping positive for doing my best.  I also realized that I made some great connections at that callback and that in the future I would probably work with those people or, at least, audition for them again.  You never know when the results of your actions will take place.  Sometimes the things you do set a whole string of events in motion and lead to a place you were not expecting.  Things rarely happen in the time that we are expecting but everything always does happen as it was meant to.  Another hard lesson to learn.  Again, do your absolute best and let go of the outcome.
     I have found that a lot of things that were not meant to be in my life have been stripped away this past year.  It's as the universe is doing the work that I did not know how to do myself.  The main problem that I am having now is that I hear the message loud and clear yet I do not know what is next or which direction I'm to go in.  I can blindly jump and hope it's not the precipice of a cliff that I'm teetering over.  Perhaps I am just standing on a large rock and the landing will be manageable and relatively painless?   Why is it that the most growth comes from experience that are hard and painful?  How come all the happy moments in life don't teach us the deepest lessons?  I suppose the pain and difficulty we experience make the happy times that much sweeter.  If there was no hardship we would never know when we were actually happy - there'd be no gauge to the experience.  For now, in this very moment, as I type this everything is actually OK.

   
   

Creativity

Last page of a story I wrote in 3rd grade

When I was a little kid all I liked to do was draw and paint.  I used to make books of my drawings -  for instance, I once drew the alphabet in animals with names that corresponded to very letter.  Art supplies were always my favorite gifts.  I was obsessed with a Crayola Caddy that my mom bought me for Christmas one year.  It was like a lazy susan that was filled with paint, markers, pencils and crayons in a rainbow of Crayola colors.  I even won a few prizes at art shows and contests around town and had a watercolor painting a did of a deer in snow with a fuchsia sky on display at the local library branch.
     I'm not exactly sure when I let the creativity slip away for the 1st time.  My parents got divorced when I was 7 and that was physically, mentally and emotionally crippling for me at that age.  Some other traumatizing life events took place after that coupled with the fact that I was cruelly teased and bullied in school - all of this lead me to retreat within myself with a profound desire to escape and disappear.  I exiled myself to TV Land and anything else that would distract me from the emotional pain I felt in reality.  I would shop lift and spend my whole afternoon at the arcade and slowly and surly the creative stuff fell by the wayside.  Of course later on when I discovered drugs and alcohol it was a match made in heaven - until it turned to hell.
     When I got to high school I finally had like minded friends.  We were definitely a motley crew but the thing that bound us all together was a level of intelligence that was generally missing from the majority of our high school peers.  We sought out cool bands and artists to explore and we challenged and accepted each other no matter what freaky style we had going on.  It was a pretty creative group to say the least.  In my senior year of high school I felt like I was ready to explore my creative outlets again, being surrounded by all of my artsy friends inspired me.  I took a ceramics class with this amazing art teacher that had been my mortal enemy in 9th grade.  This time around we got along like gang busters and I let her teach me and expand my horizons and it felt great to make art again.
     Around this time I had also started doing photography.  I took some classes and got an amazing camera for my Bday and even joined the yearbook committee which was a life saver my senior year.  It meant a stack of hall passes and "get outta class free" cards that my favorite English/Photography teacher & yearbook advisor had given me at the start of the year.  I spent a majority of my year stoned in the darkroom and then had the privilege of flooding my senior yearbook with photos of all the cool kids and paying little mind to the jocks.  It was a very Breakfast Club moment.
     Since then my life has been this constant tug-of-war between me and my creative side.  For some reason when life gets tough I'm generally inclined to let the artistic side go instead of exploring it and using it to reach new heights and depths of art.  These days I've gotten a lot better at expressing myself and even let some of my uglier truths rise to the surface so I can tell on myself and free myself from them.  The writing has helped a lot.
     I 1st got the idea to write a book of my stories about 8 years ago on a trip to Costa Rica.  I was going to meet a large group of friends, mostly from NYC, and when I booked my travel I had the dates wrong.  I ended up arriving 4 days before everyone else and it was the best thing that could've happened.  In those 4 days all of the stresses of city life melted away, I read 2 books and had this creative avalanche pour out of me when I put pen to paper to start jotting down one of my famous stories involving a really expensive pair of custom made pants and some cheap ass cocaine (you'll have to read the book!)  It was one of those moments when the words literally flowed out of me as if it wasn't even me writing.  The pen was furiously scribbling words on paper and I was sitting in the backseat like a passenger or observer.  When you have those moments while you are creating something it is truly magically - it's when everything aligns and you are really in the moment.
     Just this year I have re-committed myself to finishing this book that was conceived on the sands of the beach, next to the jungle of Costa Rica many moons ago.  I have been getting up every day a 1/2 hour earlier than normal so that I can write before my day gets going.  Some days it's a challenge and other days the words flow out from that magical sweet spot of creativity.  The book will be done in a few moths time and I cannot wait to share my ridiculous happenings with you and the world!!!!











   

Judgement

"The Last Judgement" by Hieronymus Bosch, 1482(ish)

I had a pretty big lesson in judgment yesterday.  It all started with a phone call from my Dad.  I don't talk to my Dad much, in fact, the last time we spoke on the phone was Christmas of 2013.  It's a complicated relationship - he left when I was 7 and for a while he would take me on the weekends until his alcoholism escalated and he could no longer show up.  Doesn't take Freud or Reich or Dr. Drew to figure out that all of my abandonment issues and fear of love stem from that.  My Dad put alcohol in his #1 slot and because of that everything else fell to the wayside.
     As most of you know I recently celebrated 13 years sober and now I can clearly see that my Dad's choices in life had nothing to do with me.  That was an impossibility to understand at 7, 8, 9, 10+ years old but now I have empathy for him and I know that he suffers more than anyone.  I have no idea if he's ever tried to stop drinking or even considered it but I do know that as an alcoholic myself it is a source of great shame in one's life.  It was in mine.
     My Dad is a very smart, funny, kind and compassionate man and he had the potential to do great things.  Unfortunately, that never happened.  I do not know what his darkness is and what demons he battles daily.  Alcoholism is a cunning mistress and you either have it or you don't - it doesn't matter what your background is.  Also, it takes A LOT of work to keep it at bay and not engage actively in it and most people afflicted by it do not overcome their fears or do not want to.  Anyone who has any experiences with people that are alcoholics know, too, that you cannot force, cajole, coax, or implore someone to change unless they really want to.
     My Dad called to say that Dar, his 4th wife, had passed away.  After finding a cyst on her back she was diagnosed with a rapidly expanding cancer that had riddled a large portion of her body.  It was too far gone for any treatment and there was nothing that could be done medically.  The diagnosis was around Thanksgiving and she passed away 2 days ago.  They had been together for 28 years.  He said that he was a basket case but he sounded much better than I would have given the circumstances.  
     We talked for a while about what had been going on leading up to this horrible event.  My Dad was telling me about his neighborhood and the friends they have and while he was telling me a story he nonchalantly told me a piece of information that floored me.  He said in a rather matter-of -fact manner that he had a side "business" that all the local people helped him with.  He said he collected cans to cash in for extra money so he didn't have to spend all his social security.  It broke my heart to hear him say this.  The way he said it though was so casual and without shame that it must seem completely normal to him with the lifestyle he leads.
     I was faced immediately with my own harsh and nasty judgments.  I call the people that collect cans "can farmers" and I get so angry when they rifle through my trash cans on garbage night.  Why?  Why do I judge so harshly?  Ironically, my biggest, most irrational fear is that will be homeless in the streets living in a cardboard box.  A lot of the people that collect cans aren't even homeless and, like my Dad, do it to get by and to survive.  It's actually a noble cause and another 1/2 full view is that it aides in cleaning up the trash and recycling.
     Still, here I was the person that is constantly thinking that I have to do more, make more, better myself and improve my station hearing that my Dad is a can farmer.  It really put me and my ego in check.  At least my Dad has caring people around him that bring him their bottles and cans because they know it helps him out.  At least it's a task he can accomplish or a reason to get out of the house.  I'm not sure how my Dad maintains a rather sunny disposition while constanlty faced with the grim reality of active alcoholism but somehow he does.  All I know is that next time I see someone on the street with their shopping cart full of cans and bottles that I will give them a warm smile instead of rolling my eyes and putting myself above any other human.