because i should be sleeping, meditating, or doing something else...

besides reading, i've spent a great deal of my time lately thinking. and not the comfortable thinking. it's been very fuzzy, very "i feel uncomfortable with the ambiguity" thinking. this state of mind partially relates to my school work. for detailed descriptions of my readings click here. the long and the short of it: i'm thinking about who i am and where i am situated in the world.

as a buddhist i suppose i should simply be. but many have told me the road to englightenment and ultimately buddhahood is paved with bumps and pitfalls. the road resembles America's infrastructure: it hasn't been tended to in quite some time, and maintenance now will cost more than if it had been maintained properly. but this maintenance, however painful, is absolutely necessary.

part of these thoughts that have occupied my mind for sometime include childhood memories, memories of my parents, and memories of coming out. some of my childhood memories are pleasant, and some are not. and i will no doubt write more in the future. it's the coming out part that bothers me at present. while bothers implies irritation, i alluded to my feelings in the paragraph above. i am irritated but not by these memories. the resultant fuzzy ambiguity is what is bothering me.

i have grown up with many, many people who mitigated my experience, or the experience of gays and lesbians in general. The most innocuous example would be telling me directly or indirectly that dating in the glbt community is JUST LIKE straight dating. And for a long time, i bought these ideas hook, line, and sinker. i didn't buy them because i believed them. no, far from it. i bought them because it was easier to do so. trying to convince people became too much of an uphill battle.

coupled with that fight, you had me and my ill-fitting social skills. my first reaction was always anger. and i'm not sure if i wanted to address the issue, i knew how without chucking a large piece of furniture. it's easier to break things; they can be replaced. people, well, that thought speaks for itself. even if i had the voice, i had no idea how to use it properly. without turning myself into a pathology too much, i was basically a primal scream and fit of rage. and i didn't know how to change that.

what i know now saves my life on a daily basis. because i have begun to identify when to speak and when to hold my tongue. i'm not perfect, but i am getting there. when i speak, it's because i know i can say what i need to in a manner befitting the context. when i hold my tongue, it's because i now understand it's better to happy than right. it's a situation where screaming just won't change anything. i believe, for example, that when the Civil Rights Movement successfully guided this country to codify freedom and equality for Blacks, the organizers did not think the battle was won. They understood the much more difficult feat would be finding respect in a system that privileges white males over all others. i do not believe overturning Prop 8 or passing legislation will make people respect us more. but it is a faulty assumption many of my gay students make.

my gay students are so open that it would be impossible to shove them back into the closet. and they are happy to be out. but much like viewing the spectable surrounding Ellen's outing, my feelings about their outness in relation to my closetedness revert simply to fear and anxiety. i become tongue tied. i feel shame for not living at the same level of outness. it is through this shame i begin to become painfully aware how much i have simply dismissed or repressed for the sake of not rocking the boat.

gay dating is not like heterosexual dating. the relationships are not the same. the problems are not the same. i'm not sure how a straight person could begin to draw this conclusion without walking in my shoes. we grow up watching straight couples on television, straight couples privileged in school, privileged in every aspect of society. and when it comes to me learning about other lesbians, what works and what doesn't, my partners and i, my friends and i, the glbt community begins to imagine this for itself, ourselves, myself. we must come out every time we meet someone new. and we must wonder in our minds if we are safe in doing so.

i have also been outted in a very different way, and the situation itself did not feel safe at all. i recently came face to face with what it means to be a woman. and it was a similar situation. a situation arose where someone said something inappropriate. and i somehow managed to keep my cool. but the situation disturbed him greatly. he inquired if he was in a safe space, if he could not speak his mind. but his subtext was very much: i can't say those things HERE any more, meaning he spoke them somewhere else with no blowback. the situation was resolved but not before i watched the situation and how i acted reconstructed in front of me without having the voice to initiate change.

voice is important here because there are many ways to stifle the voice of human being; marginalized people know this all too well. two of these methods have become crystal clear lately. as a youngster, i was discouraged from voicing my opinion. this discouragement came in the form of physical or mental coercion. as both a female and a lesbian, these were powerful lessons to learn. the second method that was all too effective included public humiliation. for some time i have thought about my coming out story for many reasons, and one of them was the fact that my first coming out story was traumatic for me.

i told three of my friends when i was in the seventh grade (at a Catholic school in Oklahoma, a predominantly Southern Baptist state) that i had fantasies about girls. "i think i'm gay" was my phrase. the subject beyond this phrase was not brought up again. not by my friends, my teachers, my family, nobody. but slowly kids in my class began to recede. slowly, gradually so that my ring of friends was tremendously small. i became depressed. i had difficulty getting out of bed. i remember going with my family to a reunion and i stayed in my room for a large portion of that. it never occurred to me that i was suffering from depression.

but the method that silenced my voice also spoke to and about my affective states. my justifiable anger was rage; my depression was self pity; my feelings of worthlessness were just stupid. nobody attempted to find the root. i just received criticism. or at least that's how i remember it now. so i began spending a lot of time alone. i would take long walks. i spent time down at a record store on cherry street. i had a walkman, and i had earphones to block out the outside. i climbed into my head and started on a path of self-indulgence and disconnectedness that has been difficult to turn around.

i also spent time at the local waterpark. i would go for a little bit each week. just to swim or do whatever. sometimes people would talk to me. sometimes people would not. sometimes they would sit, giggle, and point. they did not try to hide their scorn or contempt. nor did i try to hide mine. i would just flip them off. but one day, the laughter and scorn from afar actually turned into confrontation. a group of kids from school - this was summer break, and up to this point, i had had a lot of friends - began teasing me. just a couple. simply mocking me for being alone.

"so you don't have any friends?"

"how sad is that?"

"are you going to cry?"

i would assume it took the form of bullying that many parents are shocked and saddened to see on the Internet or at their kids' schools. but the mockery precipitated into a much more serious situation. before i knew it, there were 10 to 15 kids and they were calling me a dyke. calling me ugly. calling me pathetic. sick. disgusting. throwing things. pushing me. all the way through the park. all the way out the exit.

when i visit the idea of coming out, whether i want to or not, i inevitably come back to this situation. i remember attending meetings of the glbt group at oklahoma state, and one of the meetings involved the members telling their coming out stories. i don't remember saying anything at all. and listening to each story made my heart break a little more. not because i felt overwhelmed with happiness for my community members. i felt sadness because my story did not resemble theirs.

we can talk about the similarities for all of us, and the coming out story is one of those. however, we must constantly remind ourselves that not everybody came out, is out, and feels happy and comfortable in their own skins. quite the contrary. the most unfortunate thing that i find among younger gays and lesbians is their lack of compassion for those who have not ascended to the same level of comfort and security in their own person. in speaking for our community, we must account for this difference. it is the one thing that can truly provide a safe space, to enable those with no voice to speak and provide an example for those who cannot speak when those of us who have gained a voice speak to the world. Sphere: Related Content

finding refuge in home

so today i was able to meet the new reverands who have been rotated into the glenside temple. i was sad when i heard the reverand with whom i felt a strong connection was leaving. but i guess the situation provided experience and understanding about detachment. it is probably a wise thing to rotate ministers, especially in the united states where we tend to attach to everything.

the new minister and i did not have a chance to speak directly. i had some errands to do, and i have a great deal of reading. she was busy chatting with other members of the sangha, and i felt like i would be able to speak with her another time. but i thoroughly enjoyed her dharma talk today.

she rotated into the glenside temple from houston, texas. i am excited to get her impressions on texas. so often transplants in texas have interesting reactions to their environments, including the people. one friend of mine told me that texans believe they reside in a whole other country. they are typically a strong-willed, obstinate bunch. i think that's why i have an affinity for them. so she lived in texas, before trading places with my first meditation teacher, rev. sa. i do hope rev. sa has a safe journey to her new home.

which was oddly enough the topic of the first dharma talk. the reverand openly admitted she was nervous, even though many of the sangha members remember her from the won institute. sometimes old things seem like new things when we are placed in front of strangers. anyway, she talked about hurricane ike. as ministers, they leave the comfort of their home to build anew. entering into priesthood provides a new home. she said as the storm approached, she thought it safest to remain at the temple. she was afraid, but considered the temple her "home" - a place where she could find refuge. it was only then she realized her home was not made of walls, did not have the won symbol, the circle, was not something that could be destroyed by winds.

her home, her true home, was her buddha nature. she discovered to overcome her fear, to find safety from the storm, she needed to turn inward to find refuge. i thought of times when i had watched the news or read newspaper articles about unfortunate oklahomans who had lost their homes or loved ones to tornado. or those in missouri who had lost their homes to the raging waters of the missouri river as the levies broke. some just shake their heads, cry, and talk about losing everything. there are those, though, who typically feel relief. they might have lost their homes, but they are alive. and as such, they feel gratitude. these curious creatures understand that what is lost materially can simply be rebuilt. they feel no attachment to material objects, and simply understand one simple axiom. everything will be okay. typically where i come from, those who understand this place their faith in a power greater than themselves.

if i understand, the new reverand understands that feelings of fear are like the material of the temple, like trees, birds, and even whining cats. they change. they have a life. they eventually pass away. her refuge, though, was something that is eternal. rather than placing faith in her mind, she placed her faith in no mind.

i thought a lot about what she said. this week has been difficult for many reasons. i have a great deal to read for my comps; i haven't heard back from the newspapers at which i hope to continue an ethnography; i am worried about passing my exams, of speaking at MIT in April, of finding summer employment. i am angry because i feel slighted and looked over as other phd students receive classes to teach. my feelings of fear, jealousy, worry, etc. all have lives of their own. they come into existence, and then they pass away.

this week in feeling these feelings - rather than remaining mindful and letting them pass away - i played in them. Entertaining them with different endings, giving them power as i allowed them to play and replay. what i should have done was recognize their existence and let them pass, awaiting a time when i could sit quietly and understand them. it was a difficult week because my ego had a field day, and i made it more difficult than it needed to be. next time, i will remain both present and mindful, knowing i have a much greater shelter from these transient, emotional storms. Sphere: Related Content