Whose Ass Do I Kick, Kiss, or Caress?

It amazes me the lengths to which one has to go to complete things that should be simple. There was a time that I would have had great compunctions about being sycophantic to accomplish my goals. Now my question is much more straightforward: just tell me whose ass I need to kick, kiss, or caress to get what I want.

The Cosmos Are Playing a Little Joke on Me

I am a Gemini: there is no doubt about that. We are the sexiest, smartest, best looking and most modest of the signs of the Zodiac. Scorpios are too self-absorbed and think that they are powerful (boring), Virgos are just plain boring, Capricorns and Taurans are just plain stodgy and boring. More than that, we can use words. We know how to think and to put our thoughts into words. I love being a Gemini. My chart, for those of you that “follow the stars, Venus and Mars are right tonight” (points if you know whose song that is) is something of an enigma. I once had an extended horoscope drawn. It said that this is the life in which I am to pay off my karmic debt. Apparently, I was something of a hellion in my last life. This is the one that settles the debts.

There was a time that I might have laughed at that last assertion. But looking at my life I am given pause to wonder if there is not some modicum of truth in that. I wrote a letter to a friend and in that included the following quote:

“I suppose that I long most for love, respect, friendship but realize that I will never have these things in one relationship...”

I am coming to believe that for reasons that may or may not have anything to do with the stars, the fates, or any external force that I am destined (used advisedly) to fall somewhat short of what is completely good and beautiful. I do not believe that I will find what I want in one person; this has never been my experience. Perhaps it is just too damn much to ask of anybody.

A Jest of God?

There is a sort of perverse satisfaction in knowing that the cosmos would invest so much in such a little joke. I suppose all things are relative. For the cosmos it may be nothing; for me it is all that I have and am. If this life is a jest of the divine, then let us enjoy the laughs that we can have and to hell with the rest. I am not much of an epicurean, but I am coming to questions my innate stoicism.

Diogenes was a cynic. The word cynic derives from the Greek word for “dog.” He was said to have preached to the dogs and tended to regard them as more worthy than his fellow humans. I think that he was a bit warped. I do like the final joke that was played on him by the philosophic community in Greece: he was given a rather florid funeral, befitting a noble given over to extravagance. For a man that chose to live in a barrel outside of the city this tribute is ironic: he would have hated it. Almost a final “Fuck you from Plato and the guys.”

So why is it that in any divine jest we must lose? Life is the most bitter of God’s little jokes. Just as we begin to understand we fade away. Maybe understanding is overrated. I think that it is enough to enjoy the ride, not to hurt anybody, and to try to leave the world just a bit better than you found it. But to anybody that is listening: please, no elaborate funerals for me. Have a really good dinner, with really good wine then run off without paying the bill! Do leave a tip for the wait staff, though.

If Not Happy then Content

There are people that lead charmed lives, lives that happenstance has blessed with good fortune. I am not one of these. There are things that are in my realm of control. There are things that are not. What I do has an effect on the outcome of my life. What is done around me can have a greater impact on that outcome. I am not happy. I am content. I laugh. I love. I live. What more can be expected?

There is a part of me that would rather spit in the eye of the serious and sedate or would just want to tip the cart over to watch how the apples would go a-rolling.

Self Absorbed of Late

I’ve been reading my posts from the past several months. I have been really self-absorbed. There is a really histrionic tone to some of the posts. I know that I was really in pain when many of these were written. Maybe I should have simply not posted. Maybe I should have edited. The period from January through March of this year has marked a nadir that borders on whining. It has to come to an end. I use my weblog as a journal. A journal is nothing if not a means by which thoughts can be sorted out. I never really understood this as a popular place to visit to provide candy for the voyeurs of emotional disintegration on the world-wide web. I fear that is what it is becoming. Another one of the cosmos’ little jokes perhaps? It needs to end.

That begs the question of what I am doing with MM. I don’t know. She is seeking some help, while I am supportive, I am not convinced that our relationship will do well to continue the way that it has been. There is a part of me that wants to disengage some, pull back a bit and watch the progress, if any, before making any final decisions. I was deeply hurt by her in January. This much is true. I have never quite found the same trust that I had. This is also true. But it may be equally true that I am expecting too much from the relationship and it would be healthier for both to stop taxing this relationship so harshly.

Enough of that: back to the stars… If this is the life in which I am to pay by karmic debts, then so be it. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to enjoy the ride.

- tDF

New Life in the Face of Doubt

It is Easter Sunday: in 1916 the Irish rebelled against the British. Much blood was shed and nothing was accomplished beyond steeling the resolve of Sinn Fein to accomplish an Irish Republic. This failed, of course, and a compromise peace was arranged that ended much of the violence but fell short of complete independence.

Springtime and New Birth

This is the highest festival day in the Christian calendar: the climax of the Paschal Triduum that proclaims the resurrection of the Christ from the tomb. I am struck by not only this image today, but other precursor myths that speak of newness of life: Dionysius comes to mind, as does Orpheus. Aesculapius also comes to mind: the blameless physician that could heal the dead. Pity Zeus could not find peace with the healer’s art: he struck him dead with a thunderbolt.

For me it is the reality that death and life dance a Pas de Deux that leaves the spectator wondering where life and death begin and end. Springtime points to the virility of life, just as winter speaks of the constancy of death. Easter is a troubling time for me. I do not accept, literally at least, the myth of the Resurrection of the dead. I do not doubt that a God capable of creation is equally capable of resurrection; capability and accomplishment are quite different things. The question remains why a resurrection is necessary after all. I do not believe that spirituality is about my finding my nirvana or salvation alone. That is egoism baptized. Luther understood that, even if Lutherans don’t.

Bonhoeffer

I recall reading in Dietrich Bonhoeffer about the idea of a world come of age in which a new form of Christianity needed to be forged that looked beyond the myth to the common experience of humanity. Bonhoeffer would speak about suffering. I think that is limited; I think mortality and finitude are the key issues. A world come of age is one in which we not only feel the pain of others and seek to comfort it, but face the realities of life and death together seeking to build on that which is most common to human experience.

For me it does not matter is Jesus did or did not rise from the dead by the glory of the Father. What matters is how I live my life in a way that affirms the goodness of life and seeks to find peace and joy. My credo is not that Christ rose, but that I will do my best to help you; if I can’t help you, then I won’t hurt you. We are connected by the very stuff that makes us human or, better, terrestrial. That is enough. How the myths are articulated are is less important than that they speak of a unity of human experience.

Easter Sunday

No bunny rabbits here: just an innate wonderment at the green pushing out of the deathly nakedness of the trees in which life has waited for this moment to be born. The older I become the more I realize that I was never convinced of the veracity of the Christian myths. I respect them, but do not own them.

Life continues, even if we rise and fall. Is it not enough to stand in awe and wonder of whatever gods there may be that stand at the center of this great cycle of life? We are involved and part of something greater than any individual. To be a part of life’s great tapestry and to know that without us it is incomplete gives great value to the individual as well as the whole. We are part of something greater. We all matter. None is insignificant. Is that not a sort of resurrection?

It May Be Good Friday, But it Ain't Good Here

I was at Jimi's Tattoo today. I went to have an earring put back in place. Jimi did my tats and my piercing. He is a good guy. He looks like a biker but he asks about my kids when I see him and extends genuine affection when I visit. I like the place. His business was dead today. I mentioned that it was Good Friday. He said, "It may be Good Friday, but it ain't good here." I had to laugh at the irony.

LACo Problems Put to Rest

I put the issues with LACo to rest today. I received the releases from the courts that I have been struggling to get since this whole sad story began in September. This is a major stressor off of my back. It is amazing how quickly I can get things done when I can get face to face with the person that has the authority to do business. This comes at a good time: I was facing unemployment over my credential if this was not resolved. Fortunately, it is done and over.

I have always been struck by the irony of calling this Friday good. What can be good about a day that we commemorate the crucifixion of a man whose dedication to peace and justice cost him his life?

I spoke to MM, bit only briefly, literally for a moment. All I told here was that which she had accused me of lying about was over.

Slow Day

While I have needed to take a day off of work to rest, today has seemed like it has moved at a snail's pace. I got a lot done, but I don't feel like it is enough. I am lonely and bored. I am looking forward to seeing Ana tomorrow. I need to do some shopping. The guys at Jimi's asked me to take her over to say hello and to see how she is doing. Jimi also asked if I wanted to play some bass for his new band. I am thinking about it: heavy rock is fun to play.

That's all for now. More thoughts later.
- tDF

Dazed and Confused

Do you remember that song, "Dazed and Confused"? It is my theme-song of late. I have gone from never wanting to see MM again to a sort of tentative truce. But it is just that; a tentative truce.

Angry and Definitive

My last posting was angry and definitive; it said what my email to MM said: don't call me, period. I was truly hurt by what she had said. I never told her how deeply I had been hurt by her dumping me in January. I almost ended my life. That was the straw that damn near broke my back. To hear that I was being "dishonest" was more than I could bear. What did I learn from this?

1. Do not discuss emotionally laden issues when they are too fresh to control.
2. Write rather than talk; I can measure text. In the moment it is too easy to revert to anger to make my point.
3. End a conversation when I am getting angry (this will be hard). MM struck a chord that was deeper than our conversation. While I stand by my content, I abhor my method.
4. I am not over anger, even though I thought I was.

MM's Rage

MM turns anger inward. She will strike out at me, no doubt. But she also turns anger inward and can become frightening when she attacks herself. Following a difficult time trying to talk I wrote this letter:

You've just left and I feel the need to have a few words with you. As I doubt that you will want to talk on the phone or in person for a while I thought that it was best that I write. Writing puts a bit of distance that I hope will give a sense of safety.

I understand the rage that you feel. I will not say that I know what you are feeling; I don't, I only know how it feels in me. We differ in that I tend to explode at people; you take it out on yourself. Both are damaging. Both are painful. I am not a psychologist nor do I claim any insight into that discipline. I do know what anger is like. You became very angry this evening, just like I did a couple of days ago. For me the anger always taps into the trauma that I experienced in the past. I think that it may be similar for you as well.

I don't think that you are over K. How could you be after so short a time? You were together for over twenty years. You shared a life and had many happy years. I think that you still have some unresolved anger toward him that is coming out in ways that you do not intend or of which you may even be aware. A prime example happened today when I tried to tell you about your conversation with KL's brother-in-law: your teeth gritted, your face flushed red and your voice became a growl. I don't know if you were aware of this, but the change was frightening.

I don't think you are crazy. I think you were profoundly wounded and have every right to be angry at K for what happened. I also think that you need to look at that anger to let it go so it does not go on hurting you.

For the record, you are not stupid. You are one of the most capable and intelligent women that I know. These are no mere words; I do not use them lightly. I hope that you will consider what I have observed as words from one sufferer to another; I know this terrain. I thought that I was over it. I am not. I am considering beginning another round of therapy to deal with the anger that your questioning touched off. I don't believe that I was angry at you alone, something you said set off anger that is deeply seeded, anger that I thought was dissipated (for which you bear no responsibility). It is not dissipated. It needs to be done away with. I need to address my issues. I would encourage you to think about addressing yours.

It is not normal or healthy to pull hair or to strike one's self. This is rage being acted out on the only person that you will willingly hurt: yourself. MM, for the sake of those that love you, please seek help: a counselor, a pastor, a therapist, or in whatever form that is comfortable for you. There are times when the only proof of one's courage and strength is their willingness to seek help. For me it was the hardest thing I had ever done. I know it will be hard for you, as well. It is not weakness. It requires great courage to face one's demons. And I know that you possess a noble and strong heart.

Please take these observations as they are intended: words from a friend that knows pain similar to that which you feel. Please think about how best to help yourself.

She denied that she needed help. I am convinced that she does. I have watched her self-injurious behaviors and have wondered whether or not to call 911. She has made comments about doing away with herself. In any other setting it would be grounds for a 51-50. Her feeling that if she seeks help that she will be admitting that she is "stupid" or "crazy" seems to be a way of justifying her behavior and making it OK, while looking at people like me that have sought therapy as weak. While she would not say this, nor do I think that she may intend it, it comes across that way.

Confused and Dazed

We are nowhere near "on track". As I mentioned, she did some profound damage to my ability to trust following the events in January. She tried to equate my email with that. While I can understand how she might do that, I see them as qualitatively different: mine was angry, hurt, and definitive. It also followed a request to back off unless she understood that to accuse me of dishonesty was the same, in my mind, as telling me that there was no ground upon which to stand in our relationship. She chose to go on. My email simply confirmed what she had done and was the consequence of her slander.

I have no idea where we are now. I don't know whether it is best to move on, to suggest that we create some space (make this less exclusive and more open to other possibilities), or act as if this is worth sustaining and continue acting until I can believe it.

My thinking in this moment is that things will never be the same. But that is true in the course of life, nothing remains the same. I am learning that relationships, like life itself, are finite and have a span of time for which they are durable. My best relationships are friendly and not overly well defined. I suppose that one needs to be forgiving to be my partner. I don't know what is fair to ask, what is fair to expect. Being single is harder than I ever thought it would be.

---

I am upset. MM blew me off again. Damn, this pisses me off. I remained calm on the phone, more than I can say she did, but I am truly upset. What part of "mean what you say, say what you mean" is unclear? She told me that she would call me when she was leaving school. I called her cell phone, noting that a good deal of time had passed. She went home and had a fight with the miscreant son: a child that is allowed too much leeway and faces no consequences because they cause too much stress for MM (it really is as absurd as it sounds). An aside is necessary here: would it not make sense to get the miscreant son under control? That would diminish the stress level overall, one would think. Not so, apparently. But I digress.

I call, get MM on the phone and ask what happened. She tells me that she is upset and needs to deal with M. I asked why she didn't call. It had been well over the time that she said she would be there and I was getting worried. I get her anger and I am supposed to be understanding as I am being blown off again. I have asked time and time again that she not say that she'll do one thing and then do another. Would a phone call really have cost her that much, say, "Hey P., I need to get M. Can I get in touch later?" Apparently that is too damn much to ask. My time is worth nothing (as I was at home waiting for her call) and she can do whatever the fuck she wants without regard for the frustration that it causes me. But my requests are worth nothing to her.

Why the hell am I doing this? This is the sort of thing that really pisses me off.

---

I've been thinking about this. I called MM to see how much time she'd need this evening. She responded three to four days. Days. I am sick of being seen as a cause of stress. I am sick of having my time disregarded. I am sick of the sense that I am the "junior partner" whose wishes are frankly not that important. I sent MM an email. The text is enclosed:

While I understand that you have created a situation that is stressful, I have to say that I find your request for three to four days unreasonable. I think that we need to talk tomorrow, Friday. I will be home after the noon hour. I would like to take some time then to have a conversation. I will be home if you want to speak by phone about any of this and would, of course, be happy to send my concerns via email if that would be helpful. I will look forward to speaking tomorrow.

Her response follows:

First of all I am sensing a lot of demands on me. Certainly after a year of time I would hope that you'd know that I will need chill time when I get stressed. You have kindly asked me to let you know when that happens. I have done so. I need some time to be by myself for a while. What I don't need is someone with a microscope just waiting for me to trip up and then get upset at me when I do. Please just let me chill for a few days. The constant phone calls and emails will just create more anxiety at this time. You know the feeling of wanting to not be social, please respect my same need. Also I am feeling that whatever I do is upsetting to you or wrong in your mind. That is in itself stressful.

I got her email, waited a bit and responded thusly:

There was a time when a phone call or email from me was a source of joy and not a demand. Sadly, that time seems to have passed.

Constant phone calls? I called once, ten minutes after we spoke to see what you needed. You had said nothing about needed more time. I was under the misaprehension that you wanted to see me this evening and was still waiting to see how long that would be. I was expecting time measured in hours, not days and certainly not with the anger with which you spoke.

Constant emails? One in an evening.

Being placed under a microscope and waiting for you to trip up? That is malicious and hardly my intent. I would have thought you knew me better.

Take your time, take all the time you need; but be aware of the stress that your behavior has caused for me and our relationship. I offered you help. You rebuffed me. I offer a hand, you slapped it back.

We still have need to talk.

I guess it does not matter whether we speak in a day or a week: I am ending our relationship. I will offer a friendship. But to plan my life around this, to put up with the nonsense that I have endured since January, to carry on this way expecting a change is lunacy. It had its moments, but there is a time to say goodbye. I feel that ours has come.

I Will Not Be Accused of Dishonesty

My good name is the only thing that I have in the world of any value. My word is my bond. Apart from this there is nothing of value. I will not be accused of dishonesty and will not stand with people that make that accusation, directly or tacitly, against me.

MM crossed the line today. I was upset because she had changed plans that we had made without any regard for the commitment made. I asked her to talk about it. It turned ugly. During the course of the conversation she accused me of not being forthright with her. She asked whether I had or had not made support payments. We have been over this terrain in the past. I have told her the truth: I have made payments to the extent that I was able. I did not tell her that I have had to sell instruments, cut services, other details that seemed unimportant to share. She is entitled to only the part of the truth that concerns her. That was told to her. She had been told the truth: payments have been made. She had the unmitigated gall to accuse me of dishonesty by asking whether I had or had not made payments.

I will not be with anybody that is unable to trust my word. Trust is the only thing in a relationship that can sustain it. Without trust there is nothing. Her accusations tell me that she does not trust my word. There is, therefore, no ground upon which to build anything that resembles a free and open relationship.

MM has broken trust with me in the past. The past several postings since January bear witness to that. I have tried to rebuild, but have been hurt deeply by this woman. I frankly see no way that this can be sustained if this is how she feels.

I asked her to return all that is mine and not to be in contact with me apart from necessary communications regarding a debt that I owe to her and my vehicle which died in front of her home.

To hell with her.

If she feels that I am a liar then she can go to hell for all I care. I will not have my honor and honesty questioned in my home, in my little "shit-box apartment" as she has called my home. That is simply beyond what is acceptable, tolerable, or sustainable. It is not me that is not good enough for her, but that she was never good enough for me.

I am done with her. Period. Renuncio toda la emocion perdida en ella. Que se vaya al demonio por lo que me dijo.

A Kinder, Gentler Fascism?

I have been teaching the history of World Wars One and Two (I really consider these to be the same event, but that is a matter of opinion) to my high-school history class. I am disturbed, of late, as I review the development of Fascism. It feels to me much like what is happening in our country.

Mussolini and the Fascists

Benito Mussolini is seen by many as the founder of Fascism. He began as a socialist that rejected the idealism of socialism and embraced the totalitarianism of communism, while opting for an elitism rather than egalitarian embrace of the proletariat. Mussolini understood that the State in cooperation with financial powers would control the nation in a way that benefited the corporations and thusly the people: when the tide rises all ships rise, so to speak. The State was of importance, not individual rights. Indeed, individual rights were secondary to the wellbeing of the nation. Nationalism coupled with Industrialism and Authoritarianism makes for Fascism. What is good for the industrial interests of a nation is good for the nation. The sovereignty of the nation is paramount to the good of the State. Thus, globalism in any incarnation is looked on with incredulity. A treaty like Kyoto that limits a nation's ability to generate income, even though there is an arguable stronger benefit to be realized - clean air and water - is viewed through the lens of sovereignty: what limits a nation's ability to produce limits the nation itself.

And with that You See Where I Am Going.

The Bush administration seems to be taking a route of fascism with our nation's economic and foreign policy. The use of disinformation and duplicity in prosecuting a war that is intended to generate resources for the corporate imperialism of this nation seems to have said that the truth is less important than the gross national product. While Eisenhower warned against the development of a military/industrial complex, the rest of the nation continued to allow and condone its development. Our nation's economy is a war economy. A sustained military action creates the need for products. The nature of war - destruction - creates demand. Demand drives the market and profitability.

Consider the limitation of civil rights that is slowly - imperceptibly - taking place in this nation: why do we need the so-called "Patriot Act" that allows invasion of privacy and limitation of personal freedoms? What are we so afraid of? Does this not sound like the Newspeak of 1984 harping on the "reality" of the war against "Eurasia"? We are at war with an enemy that is not identified by nation or place; we are at war with an idea: terrorism. That sounds onerous enough. Of course we despise terrorists. They are a convincing enemy that serves the propaganda needs of the State well enough to be an opiate to our desire for personal freedom, all while sending our sons and daughters to die for the wellbeing of corporate avarice.

The First Step Is to Tell the Truth

We are beginning to embrace a fascist state in this country. The first step in defeating that is to say the truth shamelessly. My patriotism is not defined by an amorphous enemy; it is sustained by the civil liberties that allow me to call the president an ass without fears of reprisals. The most American of all rights is the right of dissent. Without this, all other rights fall by the wayside. The right of dissent allows loyal opposition and correction when our nation errs. Mussolini wanted to make of the State an infallible religion that dictated what was truth; right or wrong, the State was not to be questioned. That sort of blind allegiance leads to totalitarianism and to the Hitlerian nightmare that Germany faced in the early part of the last century. We are not yet there. But it could happen here.

Our best choice is to question authority, to ask the questions and question the answers. Loyalty is nothing if not honest enough to level an honest critique. I love my country. I fear that it has taken a dreadfully wrong turn and needs to course correct before the rights guaranteed by the constitution become no more than pretty word that lack substance in our daily lives.

There is no such thing as kinder, gentler fascism: all totalitarianism is evil. It must be opposed. We must start, in my humble opinion, here at home.

My Homage to Loyal Friends

There are some things that are with you so long that they seem to become part of who you are. I have had precious few possessions that inspire that sort of loyalty. My Toyota was one. It died yesterday, in a blaze of glory, spewing flames and fumes from the hood of the engine that ran for nearly 400,000 miles.

I Should Have Known Something Was Wrong

She just did not sound like herself. She was making an odd, labored sound as she struggled to get me from work to MM's home. There was an odd, grinding sound. Then, when I tried to turn her off, the engine refused to stop. At first I thought that the starter was jammed on and that it was burning itself out (I still need to check that). I never saw a flame, though MM says that she thought that she saw something. There was a huge amount of fetid smoke; it poured out of a place behind the head of the engine. Black, grimy, and sour: this grimy smoke poured out with the lifeblood of my car.

She had been a faithful vehicle. I was loyal to her as she was to me. I purchased Little Blue one day, almost on a whim. My Mazda 323 had been pushed to well past 300,000 miles. She had had more than could be expected. She began her death throws on the way home from the courthouse when I had gone in for my first divorce, the first hearing. There seemed to be something symbolic about that. We, LA and I, had purchased Garfield (the Mazda's name) when we had just returned to California. I had driven her; originally she was to be my car, then LA's then she returned to me. It almost seemed that she was the period that ended that point of my life. So it is with Little Blue.

Little Blue and the Events of My Life

Little Blue was there when I returned to pastoral ministry. She was there when I married and divorced a second time. She was there when I began my career change. She was there when I met MM. She and I survived a rather severe wreck. I was told that the reason that I did survive was that I was driving a Toyota Corolla. She was a perky car that drove well and never showed her age. She was fun to drive, despite the fact that she was the first automatic that I have owned (I want to return to a manual transmission). For all of the changes that the last ten years have held, Little Blue was there. During her long life I only replaced an alternator, starter points, and a universal joint. The car just kept running and running and running.

Funny, I'll miss her more than I will several people that have come and gone in my life. I think that it was that she was so faithful, so reliable when nothing else in my life was. She came to symbolize a stability that had eluded me and for which I longed. When Little Blue died she did so in front of MM's home, as if to say, "Here is where the first steps of the next part of the journey begin."

Here's to the things that become more than what they were intended to be and are the metaphors for our lives. Here's to you Little Blue. Thanks for being more than just a car. You served me well and went out in a blaze of glory. Damn, is there a better way?