Keeping It Real: My Image

By in Politics Tags: ,

 

I can’t write anything even though I’m writing now. I’ve been trying for five days. I have writer’s block. I’ve started three posts. But I can’t finish IMG_5281any of them. Each sounds horrible: gutless, bland, shallow. God forbid I sound shallow. Pull out my toenails first.

The first hard thing about writing is writing. Writer’s block—staring at the blank screen.

The second hard thing is the fear of making a fool of yourself. This is the main reason people don’t write.

Those who merely speak their thoughts choose the safe path. Spoken words go into the air. They vanish. And if someone tries to quote you later, you can always deny it. “That’s not what I said!”

When you write, you can’t deny anything. You’ve put yourself out there. Your self. It’s risky. People can see it, read it, tell your friends to read it. Then they will all talk about you. And tomorrow, it all starts over again. And, unlike speaking, you never know who you’re talking to. If you’re reading this right now I’ll probably never know about it.

When you speak, you can tailor your words for each audience. Because you usually know just what people want to hear. I do this. I can tell my pro-life friends that I’m against abortion and just leave it at that. I get their approval. Then I can tell my pro-choice friends that I don’t like the idea of abortion, but I think the choice ultimately should be left up to a woman. I get their approval.

But if I write on how I’m pro-life, I run the risk of offending my progressive friends. And I have many. And their approval is of tantamount importance.

Physical appearance isn’t that important to me. Because it’s a facade. Even though society puts it first, it means little.

But the whole business of who you truly are? On the inside?

To write is to put that out there—THE REAL YOU—for everyone to read, and to judge.

I still can’t write anything even though I’ve just written about why it’s hard to write.

 

 

I Judged, Again.

By in Religion, Spirituality Tags: ,

 

A confession.

A couple sitting in front of me. At the coffee shop. At a small table. She’s around 25. Long light brown hair. Her boyfriend’s wearing a “Mustangs” baseball cap. I don’t know who The Mustangs are. I’m looking at his back. She’s facing me. They aren’t drinking coffee. Water, and two plain croissants. Why aren’t they drinking coffee?

The young lady. Beautiful. Is it okay to write that I think she’s beautiful? She’s so much younger than me. Do I sound like a pervert? 

It’s okay. Because her kind of beauty is objective. It’s a fact that she is beautiful. Just like Brad Pitt is handsome. I’m not gay, either. He just is.

They are reading a Bible. Together. A leather bound one. He reads to her for a minute or so. Then he hands it to her; then she reads. I can’t hear what they’re reading because it’s loud in here. I have this thought. Oh, please. Do you have to bring your Bible with you and read it out loud to each other in public? Then I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Because I once thought reading The Bible in public was a virtue.

Why do I judge them?

I think it’s because of the religious kooks. I don’t know what else to call them. Religious zealots? Religious fanatics? That sounds better. The religious fanatics that will often hijack public space to force their narrow view of Christianity down people’s throats. Most of the religious fanatics I’ve run into over the decades bring their Bibles to public places. As some kind of shield of protection. As some kind of magical force or something. All that stuff about The Word of God being sharper than any two-edged sword. I think some people bring that Bible-sword into public places, just in case they get attached. No, they often attack.

So it’s guilt by association. Religious fanatics bring their Bibles to public places. They brought their Bible to a public place. Therefore, they are religious fanatics. Then I realize that this line of reasoning is a logical fallacy. Specifically, it’s called affirming the consequent. Google it it you want. People do it all the time.

I just did.

Anyway, she just noticed me looking at her. Crap! I was looking at her Bible. Not her.

Okay, I was looking at her a little.

Is there something wrong with me? It’s a free county. They can do what they want. Why does this bother me?

Then I get it. I don’t want to be a part of the religious fanatic part of Christianity. This lovely couple is fine. You can see it. They’re  normal.

They get up to leave. They’re adorable together. He’s wearing HE>i socks. Navy blue ones. I saw that brand for two years before I could figure out what it meant.

The Mustang hat says Cal Poly on it. Now I’m not sure whether it’s Pomona or San Louis Obisbo.

These days, I wonder more and more about the virtue of a private faith.

Is it okay to have a private faith?

 

Christmas Card Love

By in Relationships Tags: ,

 

Everyone should have someone to come home to when the public part of the day is over.

But many get tired of that someone. Even Christians. Whether they admit it or not.

I’m now single, again. So I write about this topic of relationships. I don’t know exactly where I’m going sometimes; I just put stuff out there because nothing presses on the minds of the people I know much more than the subject of love.

And I think about this a lot because I remember the feeling of having someone to come home to when the public part of my day was over. It felt great; we all want to be known.

But for the last four years I’ve felt this feeling: having nobody to come home to. Except the kids, and they don’t really count. (Well, they count in the bigger sense, of course, but ordinary kids don’t put the needs of their parents first. [Please no messages on the kid you have that is your best friend, and the most amazing listener, and bubbling with nurturing empathetic qualities. If that’s your kid, I don’t really want to know right now. Okay?])

It’s lonely to come home when the public part of my day is over.

Most of my friends are married. In the first year or two after my divorce, I’d look at their marriages. With envy. Especially this time of year, when all those perfect Christmas cards start showing up.

I wanted the perfect Christmas card family again. The facade. I tried. Here’s one of the shots that ended-up on our card in 2011.

usmartins

The card wasn’t the same as all the others I received.

Over the years, some of my married friends have talked to me. “In confidence.” Many of them, again, in confidence, reported of not being happy.

“The feelings aren’t there anymore.”

“My partner has changed since the early years.”

“I’ve changed since the the early years.” (I hear that one, often.)

“I’m bored.”

Should that be surprising? Familiarity breeds contempt. I say this all the time. Because it’s true.

Is love a feeling? Or is love a commitment?

The digital age has certainly complicated the ideal of the monogamous relationship. A few years ago, to be tempted away from your partner, you needed proximity. You had to be close. Physically. So the assortment of options was small.

Not anymore. You’ve got social media. Everyone is close now. You can sit in your car an check out the scrapbook of anyone you want. You could like a photo, make a comment, send an instant message. Happens all the time.

I have no doubt that amazing marriages exist, because I have friends that have been married for decades. I see it. And some friends’ marriages seem okay. Not amazing, but okay.

If only more were satisfied with okay.

 

I’m A Hater, Too. So be it.

By in Politics, Religion Tags: ,

What’s going on? All these religious bigots. Even Christian ones. Real, living, breathing, convinced, head-in-the-sand, zealots. Right here in the United States of America. A nation founded on the idea of freedom of religion. A nation founded on the ideal of religious tolerance. A nation where countless willfully died to create a nation where men and women could worship, or not worship, feely.

“Paul,” you ask, “what happened?”

Well, it’s been happening for years.

But, today, I got this zinger on my old Facebook page.

 

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President Barak Obama is a “good Muslim”  jihadist?

YOU’VE GOTTA BE F***ING KIDDING ME.

I called it sick before I could think. And it is sick. Sickness is a word used to describe illness — when something is wrong. When health is compromised. In this case, mental health. Reasoning. Rationality.

To those right-wing nut jobs — not fellow Republicans, but the loonies out there — who hate President Obama’s positions, do me a favor. Disagree with his political ideology. Chastise him because he’s a democrat (since everything democrats do is wrong). Express your views on why you disagree with his policies.

Fair game.

BUT DON’T CALL HIM AN ISLAMIC JIHADIST.

Why?

News flash.

Islamic jihadists don’t order the killing of the leader of the most pernicious terrorist group in the world, Osama bin Laden.

Islamic jihadists don’t send our troops into wars against against the Taliban, as this president has in Afghanistan.

Islamic jihadists don’t bomb the hell out of ISIS fighters with drones, as President Obama has been doing for years.

Islamic jihadists don’t get married in Christian churches. Confess Jesus Christ as their savior. They don’t have their daughters baptized in the name of Jesus Christ and raise them in Christian church.

The guy who posted the photo forgot a few other things.

He forgot what our nation’s leaders have said about Islam including neoconservative hero, George W. Bush:

“The terrorists are traitors to their own faith, trying, in effect, to hijack Islam itself. The enemy of America is not our many Muslim friends; it is not our many Arab friends. Our enemy is a radical network of terrorists, and every government that supports them.” (George W. Bush)

“The United States of America…has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquility of Muslims.” (John Adams)

“Here in the United States our Muslim citizens are making many contributions in business, science and law, medicine and education, and in other fields…[they are]upholding our nation’s ideals of liberty and justice in a world at peace.” [Islam] inspires countless individuals to lead lives of honesty, integrity, and morality.” (George W. Bush)

“Some of the comments that have been uttered about Islam do not reflect the sentiments of my government or the sentiments of most Americans. Islam, as practiced by the vast majority of people, is a peaceful religion, a religion that respects others. Ours is a country based upon tolerance and we welcome people of all faiths in America.” (George W. Bush)

He forgot what President Obama said about his Christian faith:

“More than 2,000 years ago, a child was born to two faithful travelers who could find rest only in a stable, among the cattle and the sheep. But this was not just any child. Christ’s birth made the angels rejoice and attracted shepherds and kings from afar. He was a manifestation of God’s love for us.”

“I wanted to host this breakfast for a simple reason — because as busy as we are, as many tasks as pile up, during this season, we are reminded that there’s something about the resurrection — something about the resurrection of our savior, Jesus Christ, that puts everything else in perspective.”

And he forgot what President Obama has said about military force in the speech after receiving the Nobel Peace Prize — a speech praised by neoconservative Republicans:

“I face the world as it is, and cannot stand idle in the face of threats to the American people.”

“So yes, the instruments of war do have a role to play in preserving the peace.”

“I face the world as it is, and cannot stand idle in the face of threats to the American people.  For make no mistake:  Evil does exist in the world.  A non-violent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies.  Negotiations cannot convince al Qaeda’s leaders to lay down their arms.”

“The United States of America has helped underwrite global security for more than six decades with the blood of our citizens and the strength of our arms.  The service and sacrifice of our men and women in uniform has promoted peace and prosperity from Germany to Korea, and enabled democracy to take hold in places like the Balkans.  We have borne this burden not because we seek to impose our will.  We have done so out of enlightened self-interest — because we seek a better future for our children and grandchildren, and we believe that their lives will be better if others’ children and grandchildren can live in freedom and prosperity.”

I hate the hate coming from religious bigots.

I guess that might make me a hater, too.

So be it.

Free Will, Firemen, And A Ballerina, At Kéan

By in Spirituality, Uncategorized Tags: ,

 

I got to Kéan. Italian Cappuccino. In a brown cup that I want to call neither a cup nor a mug. Mug sounds American; this cup seems Italian. It’s smaller than a mug.

I sit. One of the tables along the window. So I could face the people in line. The line is always very long at Kéan.

I write. Then I watch them. Then I write.

I have this thought: Each person is like a movie. 

My life is a movie. So is yours.

Then I have this thought. Some people believe in free will. They believe we can direct our own movie, in the same way Steven Spielberg directed Jaws.

I think they are wrong.

Because things happen to us, along the way, during the film. Stuff we can’t control.

So our movies — to a certain extent — are written by outside events. If you have doubts, think about something that happened to you. You didn’t choose your parents. You didn’t choose where you grew up. You didn’t choose your health, or that of your loved ones. And you didn’t choose your age or your height or your complexion or your body shape. But these are all part of your movie.

Yeah, I know, we can choose how we respond.

Sometimes.

And sometimes we just react to events without even thinking. We yell at our kids. And those who think we can choose how we respond, every single time — in the same way we choose from a restaurant menu — are guilty of oversimplification.

Firemen. Two of them. In line. Two thirty-something men with the fluorescent yellow stripes on their baggy mustard colored pants. The pants with kneepads. With their names in fluorescent letters on the leg. All caps. KIM. MCCART. And walkie talkies.

We respect firemen. People who save people.

And then little girl ballerina in her little pink tutu and her bear and her and mommy reaching for her hand as they rush out the door.

image1-1

 

Each person is like a movie.

Especially her.

Then I wonder where she’ll go.

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