The Musings of a Confused Man

I'm going to take a break from analyzing Patrick Strudwick's article about conversion therapy.  I decided that I wanted to take some time to instead address a more personal invitation to the person who found my blog using the following search phrase:

oh god please help me i'm gay and confused iwant to feel loved i can't stand working: i don't.

Hello, dear reader.  I want to take a moment to welcome you to my blog and my greater site.  I'm glad you found me, and I hope you find my writings helpful to you.  To be honest, your search phrase suggests that you need a great deal of compassion, understanding, and encouragement.  I hope that you find some small portion of it here.  After all, it's one of the reasons I write this blog and work on some of my other writing projects.

You see, I have a pretty good idea of the kind of inner turmoil that caused you to type in that search phrase.  I've probably felt the same way, myself.  In fact, I found myself in a pretty dark place when I was first struggling with my sexuality.  So I can tell you that as dark as things may seem, things can get better.  There is light at the end of all that confusion.

Granted, it can be a difficult process getting there, and like any life, yours is bound to have it's sad and painful moments.  But anyone who promises you a life that's devoid of such moments is a con artist.  And I believe that in time, you will find that the beautiful and joyful moments.  And you'll discover more about yourself, and might even be surprised by the strength and other qualities you have inside of yourself.

Most importantly, you'll find that even while confused, you don't have to be alone.  There will always be people you can turn to and talk to.  (You'll even find friends you can turn to in "real life.")  There are other sources of comfort.  Even little chance encounters can be a source of surprise and comfort in their own little ways.  And in time, you'll find that it will help you a lot.

So if you come back and read this, I'd invite you to stick around.  Please explore what I have to say.  Please visit some of the friends' blogs I list in my right sidebar.  You may find many of them quite helpful and inspiring as well.  I know I have.  And if you're really daring, please feel free to contact me.  (There should be a link to email me at the bottom of this post.)  I promise to listen.  I promise to answer any question as honestly as I can, even if that answer is "I don't know."

Again, dear reader, I want to welcome you to my blog.  I hope you find something to help you with your confusion and inner turmoil, even if it's just a moment's respite.

In this post, I continue my examination of Patrick Strudwick's article where he describes his first-hand investigation into the world of conversion therapy.  Just as my last post focused on Patrick's sessions with Lynne, this post will explore the sessions that he had with David.

Patrick starts this section of the article by indicating that he and David are conducting these therapy sessions using Skype and webcams.  Just as I noted the strangeness of Lynn holding a scheduled therapy session over the phone, I find the idea of holding therapy sessions over the Internet to be highly questionable.  Once again, I fin myself wondering how well a therapist can handle a situation from a distance if something particular difficult or traumatic comes up during the session.

David starts the sessions by giving Patrick a highly positive prognosis.  In fact, David indicates that one third of people seeking reparative therapy face complete change, while another third experience significant change (a phrase that is rather vague).  The problem with David's claims here is that there is no evidence to substantiate them.  There are no comprehensive studies on the success rates of conversion therapy.  In fact, the only recent study on the topic doesn't match up to David's claims, despite the fact that some have heavily criticized that study.  So here we have a therapist who is making promise based on claims that are not backed up by evidence.  Again, this is nothing less than playing into a client's insecurities, and is rather unethical.

David then moves into the same talk about both religion and masculinity.  Apparently, conversion therapists are still trapped in this notion that homosexuality and not being "masculine" are somehow inextricably linked.  This demonstrates a lack of understanding of both sexual orientation and masculinity.  Part of David's therapy involves Patrick examining himself in the mirror while affirming and touching his own body.  I find this a very strange practice and don't see any psychological model that would explain how this would affect one's same-sex attractions.

David's approach to conversion therapy is odd in that he asks Patrick to reinterpret all of his actions and feelings.  David suggests that there must be some hidden meaning behind every attraction and emotional experience he has.  He interprets everything as a manifestation of some hidden wound.  Again, I find this a strange practice rather than simply accepting one's feelings and attractions for what they are until a reason to look for another interpretation arises.  I certainly find his idea of "homosexuality as cannibalism" a rather weird notion, and seems to say more about conversion therapists' needs to pathologize something as natural as desire and love.

Like Lynne, David looks to Patrick's relationship with his parents as possible cause for his homosexuality.  Unlike Lynne, David does seem to pay attention to what Patrick says and tries to mold his theories to Patrick's life rather than trying to rewrite the client's history to fit the model.  Particularly, David suggests that Patrick over-identified with his mother due to the fact that he was creative and extroverted like her and under-identification with his father.  David suggests that this pattern led to a lack of masculine identity in Patrick, which he then sought to compensate by latching onto strong men in a sexual relationship.  Again, we find ourselves circling the conversion therapists' inability to separate their notions of masculinity from sexual orientation.  It is perfectly possible for a gay man to be masculine, and I have known more than one heterosexual man who didn't meet such rigid notions of masculinity.  (In fact, such heterosexual men are often the biggest critics of such narrow concepts of masculinity.)
In the next session, Patrick indicates that he's had sexual feelings for David.  David seems rather unphased by this admission.  David -- a self-identified ex-gay himself -- also acknowledges that he still has "echoes" of sexual feelings towards men.  This makes the next part of Patrick's therapy session particularly shocking -- as if what happens next isn't shocking in its own right.

"Close your eyes and focus on that arousal you're feeling down in your genitals," he says. "I want you to hear, as a man, as I look at your body, I see strong shoulders and a strong chest, I see a man who has an attractive body and I want you just to notice the arousal you feel as you hear me talking about that. Imagine an energy and picture that energy as a colour, and make the brightness of the colour relate to the intensity of the sexual feeling, so you might be starting to get a bit of a hard on, you might be starting to feel an erection and that sexual energy, but I want you to just picture that as a coloured light. What colour would it be?"

This kind of talk strikes me as very intimate and sexualized.  It certainly is not the kind of conversation I'd want to be having on a webcam session with my therapist during my second therapy session with him.  And I certainly would not want to be going through this with a therapist who in one breath claims to be "cured" of homosexuality and admits he still has the occasional sexual thoughts about men in the next.  David's entire approach to therapy seems highly sexualized and even voyeuristic.  That alone strikes me as disturbing.

I suppose it comes as little surprise that David reveals that his supervisor is associated in some way with Richard Cohen.  Patrick notes in his article that Cohen was expelled from the American Counseling Association.  He doesn't note that many ex-gay ministries and conversion therapists distanced themselves from Cohen for a while when Cohen's disturbing "holding therapy" got strong media attention.  Cohen's approach to therapy seemed inappropriately sexualized and intimate, so it's unsurprising that other therapists associated with him would have equally problematic practices.

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Today, while browsing the latest entries on Box Turtle Bulletin, I ran across a post that examined an Independent article.  The Independent article, written by Patrick Strudwick, discusses reparative therapy.  For the article, Strudwick had therapy sessions with two reparative therapists, Lynne and David.  The bulk of the article describes what he was told in those therapy sessions.

After reading the article, I felt that these therapy sessions deserved careful consideration and analysis.  The things that Strudwick was told by both Lynne and David are very telling about the whole conversion therapy process and the problems it poses.  To that end, I want to take a close look at the therapy sessions with Lynne in this entry.  I hope to do the same with the sessions with David in a future entry.

Lynne starts out the first therapy session by affirming that she believes homosexuality to be a mental illness, an addiction, and an anti-religion phenomenon.  Bear in mind that the first two classifications are in direct contradiction to the position of every psychological and psychotherapy association out there (with the exception of NARTH, which was created specifically to peddle the notion that homosexuality is a mental illness) and all peer-reviewed research.  This is important, because Lynne and other conversion therapists are already on shaky ground because they are seeking to treat something which doesn't apparently need to be treated.  However, such therapists rely on the fact that their clients (or worse, their clients' families) are willing to believe their sexual orientation is an illness in need of correcting.  In effect, they are playing off of their clients' own insecurities to sell an unnecessary (let alone ineffective) therapy.  This willing to play to their clients' insecurities is highly unethical, and will play a bigger part in these therapies as we consider Lynne's investigation into the "causes" of Patrick's homosexuality.

Lynne then opens the session with prayer, the first sign that her therapy is going to be intermingled with a lot of religious material.  This is evident when she asks Patrick if he is lustful about his same-sex attractions.  That word gets thown around a lot in conservative religious circles, and I tend to think it's abused.  Truth be told, there should be a certain amount of sexual desire in any romantic relationship.  However, things get worse when Patrick also points out that he also felt what he considered sincere love in some of his relationships.  Lynne dismisses this out of love, referring to it as "darkness."  The conversion therapist's willingness to discount any feeling simply because it doesn't fit their model is unconscionable.

As is common among conversion therapists, Lynne starts asking about Patrick's family.  Those familiar with the theories of Joseph Nicolosi will recognize that Lynne is trying to establish the distant father and overbearing mother that is so often given as a major cause of homosexuality.  (I've always found this theory silly, since I have yet to meet any teenager who doesn't consider his mother overbearing at one time or another.)  Patrick indicates that he had a loving family life.  However, Lynne is not willing to let this particular theory go yet:

"Well, there was something happening within your family dynamics that led to your depression," she says.

The depression that Lynne is referring to is the depression that Patrick indicated that he was depressed as a teenager.  What is notable about this, however, is that Patrick already stated the reason for this depression:

I tell her that I was depressed as a teenager because I feared I would face prejudice for the rest of my life.

Fearing that one will face prejudice for the rest of one's life is a perfectly legitimate reason to be depressed.  However, Lynne discounts Patrick's explanation for his depression and inserts her own, based on nothing more than her desire to make Patrick's psychological profile fit her predefined notions about how homosexuality forms.  This is questionable at best and downright unethical at worst.  Again, bear in mind that most of Lynne's patients are coming to her in an emotionally vulnerable state.  By disregarding the explanations they give her and inserting her own, she is pushing her own theories and views on them.  In effect, she has ceased to be a therapist at all, but has become something much uglier.  This desire to push her clients in the direction her theories say they should go will appear uglier later on.

After exploring rather curious theories about difficult births, neonatal intensive care, and the "spiritual effects" of Freemasonry (I'd love to see an attempt at peer-reviewed research on that last one!), Lynne begins asking about sexual abuse.  Patrick indicates that he's never been abused.  Once again, Lynne is unwilling to accept Patrick's analysis of his own life:

"I think it will be there," she replies, dropping her voice to a concerned tone. "It does need to come to the surface."

And so, she prays for me again. "Father, we give you permission to bring to the surface some of the things that have happened over the years. Father, enable your love to pour into that place of isolation in that little boy, whatever age, we give you permission to go there, with your healing power and your light, go into those parts, open all the doors, and access each one with your light."

She looks up. I ask her again about this abuse. "I think there is something there," she says. "You've allowed things to be done to u." In the next session I ask if she thinks the abuse would have taken place within my family, because I can't remember it. "Yes, very likely," she replies.

Once again, the therapist is trying to force her client to fit some predefined model rather than observing the real life story he presents and analyzing it honestly.  And this is where her clients' emotional vulnerability come in.  By pushing this idea that her client must have been abused, she is setting up the perfect situation for creating false memories.  False memories have ruined lives -- both the lives of the supposed abusers and those of the victims.  False memories also end up hurting those who really have experienced abuse and have forgotten or repressed, as it makes professionals more cautious about accepting even valid recovered memories.  In short, Lynne is hurting a huge number of people simply for the sake of making a client's history fit her preconceived notions of what it should look like.

Patrick indicates that his next session with Lynne is over the phone.  This single sentence makes my head spin.  While I can certainly understand why a therapist might need to deal with an unexpected crisis with a client over the phone, I cannot imagine holding a planned therapy session over the phone.  It strikes me as inefficient, and potentially risky.  If any powerful or troubling emotions arise, Lynne is not present to handle the situation.  It seems to me that it would make more sense to postpone or reschedule the session to a time when it can be held face-to-face.  The fact that Lynne chose not to do so leads me to wonder if Lynne is the kind of person who puts conferences and lectures over the well-being of her clients.  If so, then I hope someone will encourage her to leave clinical practice.

Lynne's first two suggestions during this session is that Patrick should (1) distance himself from his gay friends and (2) take up a sport, possibly rugby.  First, I find it strange that any therapist would presume to have the kind of authority to make such suggestions.  I understand that being critical of a clients' friendships and other relationships is not uncommon, especially if the relationships and friendships are unhealthy or promote unhealthy behavior.  However, it's also my understanding that a therapist generally points out how they're unhealthy and/or promote unhealthy behavior and then allows the client to make their own choice.  To actually suggest a course of action like Lynne has strikes me as assuming too much control.

Of course, there's also the fact that it's questionable whether Patrick's gay friends are promoting unhealthy behavior.  Nothing in the article suggests that Patrick has given Lynne any reason to believe such a thing.  It again strikes me as Lynne making assumptions rather than analyzing the person and relationships at hand.

The suggestion about taking up a sport always makes me laugh.  Conversion therapists seem to have strange beliefs about the relationship between homosexuality and masculine stereotypes.  Truth be told, they're two different subjects.  Locally, we have a large number of gay men who are into volleyball and other sports.  Many gay men are into body-building and other "masculine" activities.  Others of us don't care for such activities, but it has nothing to do with our sexual orientation.

Lynne's idea of therapy involves trying to force her client's life stories into her preconceived models, throwing out a lot of religious jargon, and playing with irrelevant notions of masculinity and sexuality.  And she's doing this with emotionally vulnerable clients.  And we're supposed to consider this valid therapy?

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I found this cute quiz through Benton Quest.

Created by Oatmeal

I'm a fan of movies that deal with a gay guy who is struggling to come to terms with his sexuality.  There's just something touching and nostalgic about watching the main character discover his feelings for another man and begin to sort through the emotional obstacle course made up of love, desire, fear, doubt, and guilt.

One such movie that stands out in my mind is Shelter, the 2007 movie about a young man, Zach, living in California.  Where Shelter differs from other great coming out movies, like Latter Days and Rock Haven, is that Zach's major conflict isn't so much about his religion, but his family.

Zach lives with his older sister, her live-in boyfriend (at least I don't get the impression their married) and his five year old nephew.  Zach works at odd jobs to help support his sister and little Cody, who sees his uncle as a major father figure.  Zach's life begins to change when is best friend's older brother, Shaun, comes to town for an extended stay.  Zach and Shaun fall in love, and quickly finds his desire to be with Shaun quickly coming into conflict with his family obligations.  His sister, Jeanne, is concerned about her son being around all that "gay stuff" and doesn't think it's healthy environment.  (Strangely, Jeanne isn't all that concerned that her live-in boyfriend is asking her to go to Oregon for six months and leave Cody behind.) Despite Shaun's undying adoration of Cody and his willingness to make Cody a part of any plans he and Zach might have, the family conflict leads to problems in the couple's budding relationship.

In addition to the conflict between love and obligations to a family that doesn't approve of gay relationships, this film weaves in the extra dimensions of different family backgrounds.  While Zach and his sister have lived a difficult life with plenty of hard luck and few breaks, Shaun comes from a well-to-do family.  This difference leads to differences in perspective and different approaches to their problems, adding to the conflict.

All of these elements are handled well, or at least as well as they can be in a 97 minute movie.  It makes for a touching and heartfelt story, and one that I could personally identify with on many levels.

Misty Irons reposted the "gay lifestyle" of the (In)Famous SMT.  After reading both her post and his original, I decided I wanted to make a similar post and offer some commentary on the underlying topic.

So an average weekday looks like this for me:

7:00am:  The first alarm goes off.  I hit the off button.
7:30am:  The second alarm goes off.  I hit the off button.
8:00am:  The third alarm goes off.  I hit the snooze button.  I keep hitting it each time it goes off.
8:30am:  The third alarm won't let me hit the snooze button any more.  I turn it off and get up.
8:35am:  I wash up and get dressed.
8:45am:  I check email, visit my social networking sites, and read my favorite blogs.
9:20am:  I hop in the car and head to work, stopping at the 7-Eleven to grab something to eat and something for lunch.
10:00am:  I arrive at work.  I spend the next eight hours attending meetings, writing code, answering emails, and fielding the occasional technical question for the sales team.
6:30pm:  I leave work.  If it's open, I run to Psychic's Thyme and hang out with friends for a bit.
7:00pm:  Dinner time.
8:00pm:  If I'm curently dating someone, I ask my boyfriend if he's free.  If so, we get together, watch a movie, talk, make love, and cuddle.  If I'm very lucky, we spend the night sleeping in each others arms.
8:00pm:  If I'm single or my boyfriend is busy, I check email, respond to any outstanding ones, read blogs, do some blogging of my own, and/or or work on my writing.

In my life, there's no such thing as a typical weekend.  I may go see my parents for the weekend.  Or I might head up to Toronto for a dance class and a show with Marina for Saturday.  Or I might go back to Psychic's Thyme to hang out with friends.  I may go to dinner with friends.  I may go dancing Saturday night.  If I'm dating someone, I may spend time with my boyfriend (going to a movie, staying home and cuddling, making love, talking, going to a party together, whatever).  Trying to fit that into a single "daily schedule" would be impossible.  There's just too many possibilities.

What inspired me to write this, however, is that I've notice something about many "gay lifestyle" posts:  most of them say absolutely nothing about sex.  In many cases, that's perfectly understandable.  There are a lot of gay people out there who are not sexually active for one reason or another.  They may simply be too busy right now for a sexual relationship.  Or they may be waiting for that one special someone they want to spend their lives with.  I totally get that and respect that.

What I don't get or respect, however, is the underlying message (or so it seems to me) that the only way to prove that all gay men spend their weekends at the bathhouse or bring home a different guy every night is to show that we're not having sex at all, or at least hiding the fact that we're having it.  I'm sorry, but "total celibacy" and "having 100 sex partners every year" are not the only two possibilities.

In many ways, I'm reminded of the first American Pie movie.  I loved that movie because it was a great commentary on the pressure (heterosexual) guys feel about having sex in their teen years and how it can become an obsession.  The other thing I like about that movie is that the way the "quest to lose their virginity" ends differently for the various main characters.  Two of them end up having what basically amount to random hookups (though the one ends up falling in love with his partner and marrying her in future movies).  One ends up having sex with his long-term girlfriend (who breaks up with him in the next movie).  And the fourth ends up in a relationship and he and his new girlfriend decide to put off having sex for a while longer.  The movie ends up demonstrating a diversity of responses to human sexuality.

I think we need more of that in the gay community and how we present ourselves to the outside world.  We need to get rid of the "celibacy/promiscuity" dichotomy altogether.  There's a far more complex range of choices when it comes to human sexuality and human sexual behavior, and I think we need to start demanding that our detractors acknowledge that in our own communities.

I won't pretend I'm a sexual prude in order to get acceptance.  But that doesn't mean I'm totally devoid of a sexual ethic or standards, either.

I love you and I miss you. But I'm also hurt.

I understand you're in a difficult position. I understand that it's frightening for you. And I understand why you've made the choices you did. My heart breaks for you that you were ever in a position that you had to face such choices.

But you were in that position, and you made those choices. What's more, you made many choices that helped to leave us in the situation we now find ourselves in. And I feel like you chose to ignore that fact, and instead place responsibility entirely on those around you -- including me -- instead of accepting your fair share of that responsibility.

Please understand, I'm not saying it's all your fault, either. We both made choices, and not all of mine were the wisest or best choices I could have made. And others have contributed as well. There's plenty of "blame" to go around. But it hurts that you seem to want me to shoulder your responsibility -- or at least part of it -- in addition to my own.

In some ways, I wonder if I made a mistake in trying to make things easier for you. I sometimes steered clear of bringing up the consequences of your choices or the painful decisions that you might have had. I find myself wondering if in doing so, I merely encouraged you to continue denying your own responsibility. If so, then I suspect I did both of us a great disservice.

So I'm hurt right now. But I still love you, and I still miss you. I think that makes the pain all the more acute.

I miss you.

I miss our talks. I miss your requests, even though they were often more like demands than actual requests. I miss the way you'd get excited about something and become completely consumed with a thought or idea that struck your fancy.

I miss how you could be tender and loving so much of the time. I miss how you yearned for both physical and emotional intimacy, and I cringe at the thought that we may never share that intimacy again.

Some people want to think it was just about sex. I know the reasons they think that, but they're wrong. It was never about the sex. Yes, the sex was nice and I'll miss that too, but sex alone does not make a relationship.

Besides, let me be honest. If I was just interested in sex, there are far easier avenues I could pursue to get it. I could get a room at the spa if I just wanted sex. I could hang out at the Home Depot if I just wanted sex. I could have answered ads on craigslist if I just wanted sex.

Accepting the complications, limitations, and risks of our relationship would have been way too much foolish effort if I had merely been in it for the sex. I'm amazed at anyone who can't see the truth of that statement.

It's the memories of moments spent lying next together and talking that are most powerful. It's the memories of hopping into the shower and lovingly washing each other's bodies that make me ache for more such tenderness. It's the memories of your smile as you tell me about every little detail of your life that fill me with wistfulness. The thought that I may never have any more of these experiences with you is what tears at my heart so much.

I hope I'm wrong. I hope that some day we might beat the odds so that we can be together gain. I hoe that some day we might again share such moments of tender joy together.

But for now, I miss you.

I've spent the past several days playing around with Writing.com (WDC).  It's been good for me, as it's helped get me motivated again to actually write.  And I've enjoyed the feedback I've gotten from some truly skilled writers over there.  Tonight, I decided to further participate in the site by joining my first writing contest.  I chose to submit an entry to the Character Creation Contest. I figure I'm pretty good at character creation, so it's a good place to get my feet wet. I'll move on to more challenging contests -- one that force me to work on my weak points -- as time goes by. So I put together a character profile for Hargath, a dark priest.

Hargath is actually a recreated and edited version of a character I played in an online freeform roleplaying campaign. The way I came up with him always amused me.

When the group on the BBS decided to set up the room for the campaign, I hadn't decided if I was going to participate yet. So I sat back as people started making posts introducing their characters. I noticed that everyone was creating noticeably good -- as in morally upright -- characters. As I watched the party form up, I realized that this was looking like it would be a campaign where the players worked together perfectly well.

Now, perhaps it's because one of my favorite roleplaying games (though I never got to actually play it) was Paranoia, but that state of affairs didn't sit well with me. I felt that like good storytelling, good role-playing (I'm also of the opinion that the difference between the two is almost negligible) required some conflict between characters. It wasn't enough to just have to overcome the obstacles of the NPC's. There needed to be some obstacles to teamwork that needed to be overcome as well.

So I decided to introduce a dark priest. I forget what his name was, and I don't think I described him quite as well as I've described Hargath. But he was definitely the dark cloud looming over the party. And his presence did make for some interesting role-playing.

Shortly before the campaign fell apart (those of us involve simply found ourselves with not enough time to continue it), I remember an exchange between my priest and the mage that my friend, Ben played. At one point, the party came up against a particularly nasty captain we had to get rid of. The party agreed that assassination was the best course of action, and my priest volunteered to do the dirty work. The mage decided that my priest needed a disguise in order to get close enough. The mage happily helped out in that department obliged, by transforming my priest into a woman!

Of course, my priest got his revenge. His new disguise allowed him to get the captain in private and dispatch the captain in a formal ritual sacrifice to the dark goddess. And the mage's spell further enabled my priest to psychically link said mage to the victim. The end result, the mage experienced everything done to the captain as if it was happening to him. Ben thought the whole idea was a hoot. In fact, he wrote the entire scene for me because I didn't have time.

Of course, my choice of characters did create problems between me and at least one other player. Another friend, Jared, played a Druid. Jared was interested in Druidism himself at the time. And my priest character did a couple things (like steal the soul of a horse so that it would bend to his will) that freaked Jared out. Note that I said it freaked Jared out rather than his character. Jared was mad at me for days. That much was unfortunate. But as I explained to him, part of role-playing and fiction is allowing some characters to do things we wouldn't dream of doing in real life. After all, if all characters were the goody-two-shoes most of us try to be, our games and stories wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

And I admit that playing an evil character helped me write such characters much better.

The following is from the first chapter of a new story I'm working on:

Josh awoke with a start. He let out a strangled gasp before his mind began to process his surroundings. He looked round, finding himself in his own bedroom. His sheets were pushed off to one side, probably due to him moving around in his sleep. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He willed his heart to return to a slower rhythm. "It was only a dream. Only a dream," he whispered. "It doesn't mean anything. Guys dream about all kinds of things."

He knew that was true enough. He had done a bit of research online, and found that a lot of young guys dreamed about having sex with other guys and still grew up to be heterosexual. He'd even read that some experiment with male friends before going on to get married. So he tried to reassure himself that this one dream didn't mean he was one of those terrible homosexuals.

However, his mind kept nagging at him. This wasn't just one dream, after all. He had been having a few dreams like this since he turned fourteen nine months ago. He wondered if there was a point where it quit being something any normal teenager might experience and starting being the sign of something more serious.

"And it's not just the dreams," he whispered to himself as he lay there, confused and frightened. "After all, I've been getting those feelings when I'm awake too." He thought back to that afternoon he and Tim went skinny-dipping. While it had been innocent fun when they had actually gone swimming at age eleven, it morphed into something more sinister-seeming whenever he thought of it now. Tim had even suggested they go skinny dipping again this past summer. But the thoughts and feelings it stirred in Josh kept him coming up with excuses to put off such an excursion.

Josh lay there, feeling more miserable the more he thought about everything. He wondered how his parents, who raised him to be a good little Baptist boy, would react if he told them he was attracted to other guys. He wondered if they would send him to counseling or even disown him. He was too afraid to find out.

And yet, he yearned to tell someone, anyone. He hated having to keep this secret. It felt like a terrible burden - a burden he didn't want - to carry alone. And yet, he didn't know anyone he could tell. He was pretty sure everyone he knew would react badly.

"No, you're on your own on this one. Just try to make the best of it," he told himself. Then he added in a quick prayer, "God, please help me. And forgive me. I don't want to be gay. I want to do what you want me to." He rolled over and waited for sleep to claim him again, to give him a break from all his worries and doubts.

If you like it, please read the rest of the chapter and follow the story using the links above.  I hope to write more soon.  And of course, feel free to check out the rest of my portfolio on Writing.Com.  Though I'll warn you that some of the other stories are sexually explicit.

The old woman continued her weaving.  Her slender, gnarled fingers deftly moved along the loom, positioning threads and locking them in place.  She studied her handiwork for several seconds before speaking to the younger man who stood behind her.  "What's on your mind, Jeffrey?"

"You make the most beautiful tapestries, Grandmother."

"Thank you.  I've had many years to practice."

"And yet, it takes you so long to finish a single one."

The woman frowned and her hand paused in its work.  "Good craftsmanship takes time and patience, Dear."

"Perhaps.  But there are machines that would allow you to work faster, Grandmother."

"And those machines would rob me of the joy I find in my work.  Working faster would be a poor substitute for the care and love I put into each tapestry."

"But working faster would mean having more tapestries to sell."

The woman sighed and turned to face the forty year old man.  She noted that he was still in the dress pants and shirt that his job required, though he had taken off the tie and jacket.  "And that would mean more money."  She smiled as his pale face flushed at her words.  "Yes, I thought you might be coming to that.  It usually does with you."

"Grandmother-"

"No, Jeffrey," she said in a soft, firm tone.  "Listen to your old grandmother.  You are a good man.  You're smart, and your business sense has provided much for our family.  For that, I am proud of you.

"But sometimes you seem to only think in terms of money.  And for that, I feel sorry for you.  Because some things are more important than money.  And my weaving is one of those things.

"You're right.  I could buy machines that could help me produce a single tapestry in a few days, rather than the weeks it now takes me.  And if I was doing this for the money, it would make perfect sense to do exactly that.

"But I don't do this for the money.  I have money enough as it is - as hard as it may be for you to believe that.  Instead, I weave for the love of weaving.

"When I weave, I create something beautiful, as you already noted.  I create it thread by thread and row by row.  Each move I make is an act of love and creation, a chance to pour another ounce of my soul into each tapestry.  That's something I cherish.  It's something that the money from a thousand machine-produced tapestries could never buy.  And I'm not willing to give that up just to collect money I don't need.  It's too high a price to pay."

"But what of the things you could buy?  Things that would make your life easier?  More comfortable?"

"An easy life is overrated, as are excess comforts.  I have comforts enough.  Any more would make me value my life less, I imagine."

"Are you saying I have it too easy, then?"

"That's not for me to say, Dear.  I'm merely saying what's right for me.  You'll have to decide what's right for you."

"Oh."

The woman paused a moment.  "I do admit that I worry about you at times, though."

"You do?"

"Yes.  I sometimes wonder if you've lost sight of why you became a businessman."

"What do you mean?"

"I remember when you first went off to college.  Yo were so excited to learn about business management.  The first time you came home, you talked incessantly about your classes.  I didn't understand most of what you said, but I loved your passion and excitement.

"You took that passion and excitement into your first job, too.  You spoke of the challenges you faced enthusiastically.  You loved the problems and puzzles you solved.  Back then, it was about the adventure.

"But at some point, it seemed like you began focusing on the money.  And the passion changed.  Some days, I wonder if it's there at all."

"I see."  The man sat down heavily.

"Do you, Dear?  Don't misunderstand me.  Money's not bad.  And you've always made a lot of money doing what you do, which is right.  But before, you thought of the money as a side effect of doing something you loved.  And now, it seems as though the money is your main motivation - maybe even your only motivation.  And that change seems to have stolen something from you."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments.  Finally, Jeffrey spoke.  "I think I need to ponder this some more."

"I hope you do, Dear.  I'd really like to see that fire in your eyes again when you talk about your latest venture or investment.  It's a wonderful sight."

"It's a wonderful feeling, too.  I think I'd forgotten that."  He walked to the door, then paused.  "Grandmother?"

"The old woman looked up from the weaving she had returned to.  "Yes, Dear?"

"How did you ever get so wise?"

"Years of living and learning."  She paused, then added, "And weaving."

"Weaving?"

"Yes, Dear.  When you pend this much time in front of a loom, you have plenty of time to think."

He chuckled as he left the room.

My mother called me a Scrooge (mostly in jest) earlier today.  I commented that I'd soon be able to go back to listening to my favourite radio station.  I always switch stations the week of Thanksgiving because that's when this particular station starts playing Christmas music 24/7.  And while I certainly enjoy the occasional Christmas song (I like how the station I switch to tends to play three or four Christmas songs at the top of every hour before returning to their regular schedule of "playing everything"), there are just so many renditions of "Jingle Bells," "Winter Wonderland," and "O Holy Night" I can listen to before it just gets tiresome.

However, my mother's comment (and she's not the first to make this comment to me) got me thinking.  There are Christmas songs that I absolutely love and am glad to hear a few times throughout this time of year.  So without further ado, I offer you my favourite Christmas songs and why I love them.

"Christmas Shoes" is a relatively new Christmas song.  And while I know plenty of people who dislike it because it's not very musically interesting and horribly sentimental (I've heard the phrase "the emotional equivalent of a sledgehammer blow" used), I absolutely love it.  This is mainly because it deals with some topics near and dear to me.  And the fact that the song is told from a certain perspective -- one most of us don't consider -- earns it points to.  To me, this is a song that's not only about Christmas, but how a little boy chooses to face a tragedy he's powerless against during the Christmas season.  It's about mourning, coping with loss, and showing fierce love through it all.

"Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" is just a fun little piece that came out several years ago.  It's silly and it's fun, and it just makes me laugh.  Though I will note that this is one that I might get tired of in a few more years.

"I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" is another fun little piece, and it's another chance to see part of the whole Christmas experience through the eyes of a child.  I think what also endears this song to me is the fact that I've always assumed that "Santa Claus" is really the boy's father dressed up as Santa.  Which means that the "scandalous" act he caught his mother in is nothing more than his parents engaging in a little fun while Dad prepares to do the "Santa act."  In fact, I often imagine the little boy eventually "telling on Mommy" and his parents looking at each other with a puzzled look that says, "Oh dear, how are we going to navigate through this one?"

"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" by Trans-Siberian Orchestra is one of the most phenomenal pieces of Christmas music released in the past fifteen years, in my opinion.  The hymn is a good one, and the way TSO mixed it with "Carol of the Bells" (another fantastic piece in its own right) was just phenomenal.  That fusion makes this song stand above most remakes of most classic Christmas songs, in my opinion.

"I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" is another beautiful song that tries to both show the contrast between the peaceful message of Christmas with the reality we live in and that the message is ultimately stronger.  It's a song that attempts to capture the "hope in darkness" that Christmas is supposed to be all about.  And for that, I think it's worth a thousand renditions of "Away in the Manger."

"O Holy Night" is probably one of my all time favourite Christmas songs, and yet it's one of the songs that I usually dislike hearing on the radio.  This is because to me, my cousin's annual (though I'm not sure she does it every year any more) solo of this song during church defines my expectations for this song.  Sandra has a good voice, and it's pretty well fit for this song.  And the way that she alters the volume of her voice throughout the song makes it truly beautiful.  And there's just something about hearing a soprano belting out a high-pitched, vibrant "fall on your knees" that fills you with a desire to fall on your knees.  To be frank, this is a powerful song that seems to be turned into a mere "performance" by most of the ready-for-radio renditions I've heard.

Of course, in honor of Yule, I have yet to find a song that beats "Fearless and Fine" by Castalia.

Winter solstice night is the longest night of the year.  It is the time when the darkness is at its strongest.  The world is deep in its winter slumber, and many creature have withdrawn into their dens to escape and protect themselves from the frosty grip of winter.  This slumber is important, for it allows all living things time to rejuvenate.  It is this time of rest that conserves and builds the energies that will be expended in the active pursuits of life later on.

And while solstice night marks the peak of this time of contraction and conservation, it also marks the turning point.  For this long, dark night shall end with the rising sun, adn that moment will hail the decreasing rein of darkness.  The days to come shall then grow a bit longer in turn, and the sun's warming influence, though imperceptible at first, shall likewise grow and strengthen.  In the months to come, we will see what was started with that first fragile sunrise.

For now, we wait in eager anticipation of that first morning, haling the change it represents and the new life it promises.  And we turn inward to see what may be stirring anew in our own lives.  For like the trees and animals, we also experience times of withdrawal and contraction.  Like them, we too need those times of deep rest and rejuvenation.  And as with the longest night, there comes a time when something stirs within ourselves to let us know there is new life and growth to be experienced.  Our time of rest is not eternal.

So let us anticipate an end of our own withdrawal and time of silence this solstice as well.  Let us become aware of that inner stirring that speaks of new projects, new celebrations, and new goals to come.  Let us welcome that fragile awakening and nourish it so that we too may become active and lively in the days and months to come.

I remember how frustrated Diane, our old IVCF staff worker, used to get with me my sophomore year in college.  I had decided to get involved in IVCF leadership that year and had taken a position on the chapter's executive board.  It quickly became apparent that I was not well suited or that kind of leadership.  My outlook was simply more relational.

The scene played out several times, varying only in details.  The day of a meeting would roll around, and I'd be talking to someone.  The conversation would be deep and personal, as I was never good at small talk and people tend to spill their guts around me anyway.  I'd note the time and decide that continuing the conversation was important than getting to my meeting on time.  Often, I wouldn't make it to the meeting at all.  This would frustrate Diane to no end, adn she'd try to get me to understand that while relationships were important, always breaking my other commitments for the sake of a conversation wasn't entirely right either.  I don't think she ever got very far with me on that score.  Eventualy, we agreed to muddle through the rest of the year.  We also agreed that I'd take a role the following year that would be better suited to my nature.

I've grown a lot in the fifteen years that have passed since then.  As a more mature person, I can now more readily see Diane's point more clearly.  And I'm more likely to judge a relational need more carefully these days, taking into account how immediate the need is, how serious my other commitments are, and other such factors.  Today, there's a real possibility that I'll say, "This is important.  I care and I want to be there for you.  But can we talk about it in a couple of hours?"

But I'm still mainly relationally oriented.  I'll keep my commitments to activities like meetings to a minimum.  The difference, however, is that I'm less likely to take on sucha  commitment in the first place, rather than taking it on and then breakign it later.  Because I'd rather have my time free so I can listen to people.  I understand that now.  And I allow for that preference reponsibly.

From my private journal.

I sit here in my living room next to the only lamp that's lit in the entire house.  For the half hour prior to me picking up my pen, the only light in the house was made by three tea lights and a votive candle.  I spent that time laying on the couch enjoying the dimness, letting the shifting glimmers of light cast by those small flames dance around me.

There's something magical about such a scene.  Whenever I sit in such lighting, I get a sense of peace and comfort.  It's as if the near-darkness stills the world around me itself, swallowing up ll the cares and worries of my life.  In such a setting, there is no place for the myriad distractions I normally face.

And then there's the light.  Tiny and almost fragile, it flickers and dances.  And yet, it's intensely bright in comparison to the darkness around it.  It becomes all the more beautiful and powerful for that contrast.

And that play of darkness and light allows me to turn inward.  the still silence allows me to see that same interplay within myself.  For I can see the small sparks of passion, love, courage, and compassion twinkling in my very soul.  They wait for those perfect opportunities to shine brightly into the rest of my life and the world around me.  They are ready to shine even in the darkest and most empty of times.

After all, that's when they're the easiest to see.