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Essays/Stories/News

I hate yoga. At least, that is what large swathes of my personality will tell you. It feels hard to hold poses my body is unaccustomed to. I would rather be swinging kettle bells, doing pushups, or riding my bike. I do all of those things, but spring is here and my body is craving more movement, so yesterday, I felt compelled to take a class. I was working in my office and remembered there was a 4:30 class within short biking distance. I kept working. At 4:15 something told me, “Go.” So I did. Why would I do that?

It is important sometimes to take on the challenges I say I hate. These sorts of challenges teach me things I just won’t learn otherwise. I avoided sitting practice for years, telling people it just wasn’t for me. Reality was, I hadn’t much tried. When I finally sat myself down on a cushion, I hated it. I squirmed, ached, shouted, and struggled for years. As a consequence, sitting, breathing and observing became one of my greatest teachers. Yoga is likely the same. I’ve taken classes infrequently over the years and have a brief home practice I do almost daily. I don’t push myself with that, doing instead what feels satisfying. That is often a good way to practice – doing what feels satisfying. Yet it also doesn’t take me past my comfort zone.

To go beyond my comfort zone, I sometimes need the challenge of a teacher.

Now, I want to say that while I find it important to do things my personality will tell you I hate, I’m not doing them to punish myself. I do them out of curiosity, and because I recognize that something in me does like the activity, or is at least stretched by it. My body welcomed much of yesterday’s class, even as it rebelled against some poses. Mostly, it was my mind that didn’t like it. That alone teaches me something. I felt better after the class, too, in a way I don’t get to at home. The push of the class, and the instruction by the teacher, helped.

I do things I say I hate because I learn that way. I don’t really hate these things, that is just emotional hyperbole. I would actually say I don’t hate anything. What my mind means when it throws that word out is a this: “I’m really not good at this activity. I feel ungraceful. I just can’t do it properly. It burns and feels uncomfortable. These sensations are not things that I like. I would rather stop now.” That litany is subtext to the constriction I feel before I find center once again, breathe, and try to soften. Breathe, and try to make the small adjustment. Breathe, and simply try to remain present to the moment. Yoga brings me to prayer and connection in a different way than usual. This helps me.

Curiosity, breath, and presence can take me through almost any challenge. Those three things ensure that I will learn something, often something very subtle and important. I follow the lead of my instincts that tell me “Go to class. Now” even when I would rather stay home and read a book. That inner voice is the voice of my teacher. It leads me to the teaching all around me. My life is better for it. My life is better, even when part of me complains again, “I hate this.” My clients and students often tell me the same thing. 

How about you?

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Speaking of clients and students, though I currently have a waiting list for my one-on-one work, there are many new course offerings on my calendar. Please check them out! 

 

DOMA should never have been passed. Proposition 8 is a hateful law. I am for neither of these. Love will out and both of these try to place strictures upon love. On the other hand, for me, the fight is simultaneously much larger and more subtle. Striking down DOMA and Prop 8 is not nearly enough. Allowing the US or state governments to decree what sorts of rights we have in our personal relationships doesn’t sit right with me, not just for personal reasons, but for political ones, too.

Here’s where I come out: I have two partners and have for 9 years. We live in community with a housemate who is a friend. There is also a woman who is beloved to me, though we don’t live in partnership. My partners and I talk sometimes about what sorts of legal documents we might need if one of us ended up seriously injured. What would be legally binding enough to allow us all visitation rights in a hospital, for example? We’ve heard the horror stories like the man locked out of the hospital room by the homophobic family of his beloved. He sat in the parking lot as his partner died.

Friends of mine are raising one another’s children as their own, yet have no automatic legal rights around their care in case of emergencies.

I personally know someone who cared for his partner for years as she struggled with ever more debilitating diseases. They thought they had done everything correctly. They had all the legal paperwork, including power of attorney. He was with her up until she died. The nursing facility would not release her body to him because they had never married. He loved, cherished, and cared for her for years, but it wasn’t enough. He had to fight for the right to bury her.

I stand for love, yet haven’t joined in very active support of what some people call “gay marriage” or others call equal rights because the struggle feels much, much larger. Fighting for the rights of my gay and lesbian friends to marry is on one hand a wonderful thing. I am for people making commitments and sacred bonds to one another. I am for all citizens of a country actually having equal rights under the law. To give one set of citizens rights denied to another set is illegal and unjust. However, for me, allowing two men or two women to marry one another just isn’t enough. It isn’t the sort of equality I really want. I’m more queer than that, and more of an anarchist, of course.  I desire equity far more pluralistic than the simple replication of a state sanctioned nuclear family.

What right does government have to tell us what sorts of relationships are important to us, or what sorts of families we can build and grow together? We cannot build the society I want for us all – a society of comrades and friends, who care for one another’s children, who wipe away the tears of a friend we’ve had for 30 years, who share food and housing when times are tough or when times are very good – we cannot build this when we are intent upon saying that love is only important, and only has rights, when shared between two people.

Love is greater than that. We are greater than that. I firmly trust that we can work out how to love and whom to commit to on our own. If we want to write up contracts saying that the children of our best friend of 40 years can inherit our home when we die, we should have the right to do so. If we want our girlfriend at our bedside in ICU, that should also be allowed.

I recognize that I am talking about a restructuring of society. What else is new? It wouldn’t be reinventing the wheel, however. The nuclear family is a fairly contemporary arrangement. Extended families were the norm for centuries. People want to care for one another. We should be allowed to do so, as we see fit.

We can’t let hatred and fear win the day. Some of my friends want a state sanctioned marriage and I can support them in that. I just want to live my life as I choose, and not be penalized for the ways I happen to love. As usual, I’m playing a long game, and one that may not be realized within my lifetime.

Here’s the thing: what I really want is to build a new society with you. I have a vision of all the permutations of love expressed as a beautiful garden that can nourish heart and soul.

Striking down DOMA is one step toward my vision. It also isn’t nearly enough. What I already build with my friends, and with many of you, is what I want: families filled with friends of every sort, living in mutual support, building relationships based on respect and overflowing with love.

As I wrote two years ago, when the State of California was voting on Proposition 8: Desire knows no boundaries of gender, sexual expression, or love. God Herself is boundless, and potentially, so are we.

I will always support the striking down of fear and hatred. But I would rather build something with love, from the ground on up.

What is your vision?

 

These are not times that sit easy.

At its 10th anniversary, the Iraq war rises to remind us what a hideous, unconscionable, brutal waste it was and still is. Then there is the Steubenville trial and the vast evidence — finally being spoken at large — of rape culture and its effects upon us all… Cyprus and the European Union and all our economies which are Not. Getting. Better. Another black teen killed by police… I could point to many things that are making us uneasy. But really, things are often just this way.

In the northern hemisphere, Spring is here. It is a season of in between: is it raining, or snowing, or sunny? The light is changing and our bodies feel that, animals that we are. We are stretching toward the sun.

Today is equinox, when night and day are balanced. Light and darkness are present in equal measure. What about inside our hearts and souls? What about our thoughts? In the midst of pain and sorrow, do we harbor hope and joy?

It is imperative that we do so. The first lettuces are growing in my garden. Somewhere, one person is helping another. A chimpanzee gazes at blue sky. A painter is painting. A singer sings. A tree is rooting deep and standing tall. People stand together for justice, saying, “We will not leave you in your pain alone!”

We recognize connection. We are each part of this changing world.

What is something that inspires you? What is a story that made you smile this week? What are your hopes in this time of equinox? Please share them with us. Please pass them on.

By sharing our stories, we weave a spell of hope together. Let us plant something. Let us hatch a plan of love.

We may as well.

 
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