Passion

Now I'll be the first one
to admit
insurance
can be
a dull business
but today
when my boss
compared
a policy-
100 pages
of codified
exacting verbiage-
to a work of art
with electric excitement
in his eyes
and the thrum of joy
in his voice
I had to agree
you see
sometimes
its about perception
the angle
from which you view
the depth to which
you look
and the thing is
for all his peculiarities, his
persnickety demands
his enthusiasm
is contagious
for not only
is there function
and concrete meaning
in the work
there is a beauty too.

Too Close To Home

It's been a bizarre and difficult day. As someone in recovery I can be both hyper aware and hyper oblivious to certain things. At a previous job I had my manager had an alcohol problem and eventually resigned/was fired as a result. That whole process was very bizarre, odd behavior and people ignoring it or talking around it. I had a similar experience today which was pretty disturbing.

The past couple days this person I interact with frequently said they were sick but was still around. They seemed out of it, had balance problems, were slow to respond in conversation, and had articulation issues. Today they were sent home with little to no explanation except an undefined air of tension. Before today I took them at their word, that they were sick, but thinking about it it seems obvious this person was under the influence of some kind of controlled substance.

As this situation played out the stress of it hit me in the gut, kind of took the legs out from under me. Partly because I am the one that would have to cover for this individual meaning potentially a lot of extra responsibility, partly because the situation is so surreal and intense, and partly(maybe mostly) because the situation was so familiar. The behavior and the things that were said I knew intimately because before I got sober(what feels like another life time ago, another life) I said and did those exact same things. The making of excuses "I'm having personal issues." The flat out denial "I'm fine." The very real and tangible evidence of inebriation in a completely inappropriate setting. And the past rearing up its head in such an ugly blatant way was scary. Seeing it so plainly reminded me how close and how destructive my own addiction was and can be if I don't continue to take action against it.

Ultimately though it just makes me grateful, grateful for the turmoil that got me to the point of decision, to the point of surrender, and all the help and support and work that followed. This person and this situation were a glaring and discomforting reminder but a good reminder none the less. I'm not rich or famous or raveered but I am sober. And all the wonderful, exciting, affirming, inspiring things in my life come from that. I have great friends, a loving family, an amazing partner, vibrant creative outlets, a passion for cooking and reading and motorcycles and movies all of which I engage in frequently and none of it would I have without my ongoing recovery.

Sometimes life can be tedious, a grind. It may take a warning, a startling break in routine, to correct perspective. Because the reality is, at least for me, whatever trials I may face there's nothing that couldn't be made worse by a drink. Nothing that couldn't be destroyed by one.

All The Small Things

It is easy to be cruel.
On the crosswalk.
In the car.
At the restaurant.
It is easy to lash out
at all the perceived inconveniences
infractions and impositions.
How dare the world impede
on our plans and routine.
Honking horns, flicking fingers,
shouting expletives is an easy way
to relieve the pressure of the
egregious interference
of other people.
But all this poison spitting
only serves to multiply
the already ingrained
and bubbling aggression
of our neutral state.
Only serves to propagate
the innate mode of attack
we enter when exiting our homes.
Only serves to further spread
negativity and suspicion
which eat at us and them,
acid slowly eroding our contentment.

The world is but a loose and flowing garment
and all the small things but motes of dust temporarily caught on the sleeve
easily brushed off or ignored, unworthy of attention or astringent emotion.

The Golden Rule

In college I had a friend who was coming out of the closet. We'd known each other since middle school and throughout high school and into college he dated one of our mutual friends. He broke up with her junior year and over the course of our final two years in college gradually came out of the closet. He lost weight, dyed his hair, started tanning and going out a lot.

His process was relatively drawn out, it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Everything was secretive and covert, if someone asked him about it he would deflect or simply not answer the question. No one was putting pressure on him to come out and I don't think any of his friends were very surprised, we all just wanted to let him know that we accepted him and loved him for who he was or for whoever he wanted to be. It was difficult to show support given his cageyness.

Once before he went out for the night he said "when I'm in I'm in, when I'm out I'm out". There was an aggressiveness about the whole thing which confused me, An atypical "fuck you" type of attitude from my long time friend. Now he had every right to come out absolutely any way he wanted to, it just struck me as a little selfish and mean. I didn't understand it.

This past week some friends of mine laughed at me while I was hosting a show. Not laughed at what I was saying but laughed at me. It hurt my feelings, I felt mocked. There was something petty and inconsiderate about it that really surprised me. It felt like my friends were lashing out at me and I didn't understand why.

I've always been a sensitive person and something I have to keep in mind is that the world doesn't revolve around me and, more often than not, people have a lot going on. Like an iceberg, there is a lot going on below the surface. Everyone has their own reasons, motivations, and personal histories which shape and color the complex way they interact. Most peoples main concern is themselves, which is as it should be, people should look after their own health and happiness first and foremost. But there is a fine line between self-care and selfishness.

Ultimately you try to find the balance between taking care of yourself and being kind to others. To let those things go which don't matter. Treat others the way you would like to be treated, as best you can.

Mean Face

Growing up I got bullied. The middle school and high school I went to were pretty rough. It taught me to present myself in a certain way. To appear tough, to appear big, to appear mean, to appear ready. All in order to be ignored, left alone. The residual effect is that my neutral face, the face I make when I don't intend to be making a face at all, is a mean face.

Some people have told me they didn't like me when they first met me. I'm told I can initially strike people as distant, intimidating, and angry. It doesn't help that I'm a little reserved when meeting people. But that passes and any first impressions, mine and theirs, are usually wrong. I blame any confusion on the mean face. Seemingly only in job interviews is my expressionless extremely serious mug appropriate.

There are some benefits. Twice in the past month I've been with Tisher when he has been stopped, cornered, and prosthelytized to. He told me it happens to him often. He also gets harassed by pamphleteers and the can-you-spare-a-moment people. I rarely get approached at all. No one has ever asked me if I accepted Christ into my heart.

My long ago "don't fuck with me" defense has faded but not vanished. At this point I wouldn't want it to, it's part of who I am.

If you see me from across the room and you think "wow, that guy looks like an asshole" remember its not me, its just my face.

Crow Boy

In 4th grade my teacher read this book to the class. It's about a young boy in a mountain village in Japan who is an outcast for being different. At the end of the book the boy performs crow calls in the talent show and comes to be accepted and liked by his classmates for his differences.

I got made fun of a lot in grade school and middle school. At the time the book really spoke to me and gave me something to latch on to in a time when I was struggling socially. The idea that being different is an asset and, given time, people are positively recognized for their differences. My teacher at the time, Mrs. Melville. told me I reminded her of the Crow Boy. That validation from her meant a lot to me too and was no small part of propelling me forward, shrugging off bullying, and being happy.

Years later in high school I dated Mrs. Melville's daughter. After a couple months of dating we had dinner with her folks. I don't know how it came up, she might have read the story to her students that day, I may have brought it up, I don't recall but I asked her about it.

Me: I remember you told me I reminded you of the Crow Boy.
Mrs: Melville: Yeah you did. You always looked like such a mess.

It was a gut punch. I didn't respond to what she said but it hit me hard. She wasn't making some comparison to my being different in a good way, she was saying I was sloppily dressed and never had my hair combed.

But thinking about it I realized it didn't matter. How I viewed what she said made me feel good, gave me confidence regardless of her actual meaning which I discovered years later. In actuality it didn't have much to do with her.

I still cherish the story and the memory.