Process and Growth

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Sometimes I let people explain things I already know simply to see how they get to the same place I have. I want to learn from how their thought processes differ and intersect with my own in reaching similar conclusions. I am curious about process more than actually needing guidance.

It’s kind of like mathematics. The thing I like most about mathematics is that the answer is always the same, but the way people get to the answer can drastically differ. I can learn a lot from watching how someone else does a mathematical proof that I can’t learn from just doing it myself, even though I know the answer and one way to find it.

I highly value people who approach problems differently than myself, but come at them from similar moral standpoints and with similar goals. My little brother is the best example I have of this. We met 10 years ago online, and I was immediately drawn to the way he could break down issues in my life that seemed intractable into step by step courses of action toward the solution I sought. Over the years, we’ve learned that we can provide this to each other, and from time to time throughout our adult lives, we reach out to one another for the gift of a fresh perspective.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have so many friends that allow me to see the world through fresh eyes, and even more so to have the openness and desire to grow that pushes me to seek those people out. I have a tendency to lean into discomfort, failure, and fear simply because time has proven it is the surest way to grow, and I seek growth above all things.

I refuse to dwell in a place of stasis. I think that is why, from time to time, I can be somewhat ruthless in my tendency to distance myself from others who have stopped growing themselves in noticeable ways. I can neither watch nor dwell in a comfortable sameness. Without growth, and without witnessing growth in those around me, life becomes stagnant, and it is short enough already.

The Absence of Color

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In art, black is just the absence of color,
like the absence of you in history books and boardrooms.

Or maybe it’s the presence of absence:
The blank space where your son used to sit–
where your mother used to dance–
where your father once cried when the police brought the bodies–
limp, lifeless, drained of color.

Or maybe it’s the listing that suddenly disappeared;
the vacancy already filled:
“I’m sorry, you’re too late,” say the white, white bodies–
the same white bodies seeking you on Craigslist.
“Cross another experience off my bucket list.”

But you are so much more than an experience.
You are a universe.

Still, they ignore your beauty for the spots of light, call them stars;
call you dark matter.
Funny, when you don’t seem to matter to them
unless you’re under a microscope.

So when they say they’re blind to color
what they really mean is that your absence is not seen.
They’re too busy staring at stars
on the silver screen.

Personal Statement on Yesterday’s Invocation and a Link to More Information

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I felt honored to have Arizona State Rep. Athena Salman read an invocation I wrote at the Arizona State Capitol yesterday, April 18, 2017. I did not expect the outsized reaction something so innocuous received, and I am grateful to her for her defense of it, and to the other legislators who stood by her.

This post by the Friendly Atheist outlines what happened. It includes footage of the invocation and its reception, and the text of the invocation read.

Retreat to the Shower

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There is something about showers that is soothing,

like: I can’t sleep through the violence of the memories
(retreat to the shower)

like: The world is a cold place and I just need a little warmth
(retreat to the shower)

like: I can’t remember why I’m alive but I’m afraid to sleep
(retreat to the shower)

like: I’m so tired of dying every night in my dreams
(retreat to the shower)

And the showerhead is a sun
amidst the clouds of steam;
but it casts the kind of light
that allows you, at last

to find rest
from the shards of your past.

Writing Tips: Senses

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When we think of senses, we usually just think of the basic five:

Sight
Touch
Taste
Smell
Hearing

There are more, though (and ESP is not the sixth). Others include:

Pain
Self-explanatory.

Pleasure
Pain and pleasure are not mutually exclusive.

Equilibrium
Equilibrium is the sense of balance. Is the character standing on a moving train/ground that is rippling from earthquake tremors? Or are they balanced on stable ground?

Mental State
Is the character stable or unstable mentally? Do they act logically? Do they feel empathy? Do their emotions whip from one extreme to another without equally extreme triggers?

Mental Location in Time
Is the character focused on the present or so caught up in thoughts of the future or memories/flashbacks of the past that they lose touch with the world around them? Especially important to consider with characters struggling with PTSD.

Bodily Sensations
Full bladder, racing heart, etc.

Emotional State
Is the character angry? Sad? Amused? All of the above? How strong are the emotions?

Temperature
Is the character hot or cold? How about the things they are touching?

Including more senses in writing allows the reader to visualize and engage more completely with the story. However, it is possible to overdo when writing a book, or to choose elaborate words when simpler ones will serve just as well. Resist the urge, unless the character would normally describe things in an over-the-top way.

Prisoner and Pride

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This is a picture of me,
the rainbow on a chain around my neck
both prisoner and pride.

This body is mine.
Mine to own and care for, but
the strange curves of hips and chest,
the thickness of the thighs,
the high waist, the voice,
unabashedly feminine,
unflinching in the mirror:

Those do not belong to me,
photo or not,
flesh or not.

I am all rough edges and stubble,
gritty passion and flame.
But I’ve watched my demons come and go,
addressing me by name.

Still, I stand male,
though of all my friendships,
fear is the most familiar.

The light that formed this photograph
can just as easily devour it, and I
am caught somewhere in the middle
of fighting for myself,
and fighting to make the world safe for myself

and others like me.

You Name Me Monster But My Scars Are From You

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When you stare at me, you see a disease,
and you blame it for everything that makes me me;
All my quirks and flaws just a broken brain.
My successes erased: to you, I’m insane.

I remember the day that everything changed:
I mentioned a chemical lack in my brain.
You looked at me, then looked away.
That day I learned your true face.

I’m not broken or diseased. There is no cure needed for me.
I’m smart and creative; passionate and free.
The successes I build you’ll never meet.
It’s not in spite of my disorder. It’s because I’m me.

But here’s the truth, broken or whole:
The disgust in your eyes names you the fool.
Prejudiced and bigoted, you see only failure.
But mental illness can be a strength,

a fact you’ll never learn.
And let’s not forget it’s myself I most often hurt,
while you toss words like daggers
and leave me to bleed in the dirt.

You name me monster, but it’s you that should be feared.
My scars bear your brand even as you sneer.

I remember the day that everything changed:
I mentioned a chemical lack in my brain.
You looked at me, then looked away.
That day I learned your true face.

When Beautiful Things Come Together With Time

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Eli is coal. Built from a million memories and past experiences,
he is what happens when beautiful things come together with time.
Charcoal meets paper. The past and the present collide
and art is formed from their touch.

When you are lost in the darkness, call for him. His light will guide you home,
forming brilliance from broken moments and hope from scars.
Why coal was named darkness when it forms such gorgeous light
is something I will never understand.

Still he burns, moment to moment, creating art from shadows and blood.
His heart is fierce in its love to those lucky enough to receive it, and I
bow down to the resilience in its touch.

Maybe beauty and time
can be enough.

Grief, Healing, a New Book, and Other Updates

These past few weeks have been difficult. A friend died, and it’s unclear whether it was suicide or accidental. What is clear is that she is gone. As an atheist, I don’t have the comfort of believing that she’s still around in the afterlife. With a single bullet, her energy and the light and love she carried within her dissipated, and that is a true tragedy.

The same day as that lovely human took her life, I found out another friend has inoperable cancer and an unknown amount of time left. This activist and inspirational human told me what matters is the fight to make the world a better, more equal place, but all I could feel was grief. For the past few weeks, I’ve been cycling through depression, anger, denial, and numbness, but I’ve finally begun to find the peace he told me about the cancer with.

The turning point was not what I expected. Grieving, broken, sliding from numbness to depression to crushing anger moment to moment, I drove my way home from a discussion at the local humanist center far from at peace. When I walked through the door, though, my roommate introduced me to “When Marnie Was There.” His favorite Studio Ghibli film, it was a moving, ultimately healing testament to overcoming tragedy, and when it ended, I felt lifted up with hope, the first hope I’d felt since the day of bad news.

Day to day, I’m finding my healing.

There’s been good news, too, though.

On July 20th, I put out a new book. Raw and honest, “Seven Ways to Break a Heart” deals with themes of heartbreak, addictive love, and tragedy in a deeply moving, transformative manner.

There will also be a book release party for this book on August 16th. Taking place at Maya Pizzeria in Mesa, Arizona from 7pm to midnight, there will be fantastic musicians, wonderful friends, my books, and some of the best pizza on Earth.

Later in August, I will, for the first time in years, be going back to college. I’d dropped out with only 4 classes left before my associate’s degree when I needed to appeal my financial aid suspension (I’d dropped too many classes due to a series of traumatic events that had severely exacerbated my PTSD) and been too overwhelmed and stressed by the appeals process to complete the steps to have financial aid returned. I finally took the necessary steps to appeal, and will be registering for my classes shortly.

Also, in February of next year in Bisbee, Arizona, I will be doing a workshop on “Navigating Gender Identity” as part of a series of workshops to help provide more information and support for the trans and non-binary community in Cochise County. I feel incredibly lucky to be part of this transformative movement toward a brighter future, and especially in as lovely of a place as Bisbee.

I’ve recently begun working again on my dystopian YA science fiction novel entitled “Crimson Class Rebel,” and I am 138 pages in. I recorded the first chapter as a little sneak peak for you guys, and I’ll be releasing that chapter soon.

The last bit of news is personal, but something I’m incredibly proud of. I’ve been struggling with weight gain for years, reaching 300 lbs at my highest, and feeling hopeless about my ability to lose any of it, but in the past couple months, I’ve managed to lose 28 lbs. While I’ve still got a way to go to reach my personal weight goals, I am proud of myself for overcoming my despair and stress to take steps that improved my health. Though I do believe that no one should be shamed or judged based on their weight, I personally was unhappy with mine, and am proud of what I have achieved on my own weight loss.

What have you achieved recently that has made you proud, and do you have any advice or things that have helped you to overcome your own moments of grief?