Honesty

Honesty.

Honestly, I don't know what to say about it. Perhaps I'll tell you a story.

There was a boy. He lived a pretty good life. He had friends, finally, and he was figuring his life out. Still, he lived with this feeling that something was gnawing slowly on his heart- ripping and chewing away at what little there was. He was a boy with a broken heart, a heart that was healing. He could not take the gnawing, but he did not know why it was there. Then, he did something scary, but something very brave: he told a friend everything about himself. He was shaking beforehand and afterward he left the room, too worked up and too worried to wait for the friend's reaction.

It turns out that things worked out alright. The boy's secrets didn't need to be secrets. So what if he liked other boys? So what if he liked girls too? So what if he had lost his faith? So what if he was a little crazy? So what that life had been hard? So what that he was scared?

The friend stayed in his room, and when the boy came back for his forgotten pop, the friend smiled and asked if the boy had expected anything to be different.

Well, I can tell you the boy did expect things to be different, and it turns out they were. But, things weren't negatively affected like the boy thought they would be. Things were changed for the good.

That decision to be honest ruined me. Now I am open about a lot of things. Don't get me wrong, I still have secrets. But, I'm a much happier person.

I'm going to steal and butcher an analogy that my psychologist used now.

My life, my story is like a piece of art in a gallery. People pass by taking glances or not, and some people even stop to stare. But, there has always been a curtain up in front of the painting, in front of my heart. It is hard to hold that curtain there. My arms are tired, and my soul is weary. So, every once in awhile I invite someone in for a private screening. I open up that curtain for just a little bit and I let them see everything.

I'll tell you, it's refreshing. It's like rain to clear the dirt off of an old soul. It's cathartic, better than a double rainbow. It's like cool water rushing over your sweat streaked skin as you dive headfirst into the deep end. But, I'd be lying if I didn't say it isn't frightening. Almost like the rain appears to be a thunderstorm, and the dive into the pool is from fifty feet high. Still, it may just be worth it.

It may be worth it to have true friends. It may be worth it to let someone in. It may be worth it to remind ourselves that we are alive and human. It may be worth it to have someone to lean on. And, it is definitely worth remembering that we do not live alone. We need each other, and the only way to form true community is to be honest.

And, honestly, it gets easier. Each time you open up and share a secret it feels less like you are tearing away a part of your soul for someone else to handle. It feels less like you are placing your world in someone else's trust. It feels less like the high dive and more like a pencil jump off of the spring board. I don't know exactly what I'm trying to say, but I do want you to think that it's worth it. Give honesty a shot. It's what TWLOHA is all about.

with hope,
pat

Thanksgiving

It's a hard day. I mean, you're supposed to just stop everything you are doing and muster up the strength to remember what you're thankful for in life. Honest reflection is difficult. Truly noticing the privilege of our lives is tough. And, that's all without throwing on top a bought of depression or just a bad fucking day. Hell, that's not including the energy it can take to be civil to your family, regardless of if you love them or not. So, what's my point?

Honestly, I'm unsure.

I mean, I want to tell you you're beautiful and that's something I am thankful for. I want to tell you that your story is important. I want to tell you it's alright to be a little (or a lot) pissed off on Thanksgiving Day. I mean sometimes life can suck. But, even at its hardest, life is all we have. You can have me, too, if when it's hard I can have you too. Can promise each other that? That when the going gets tough we will remember to lean on each other?

So, if today was hard for you, I hope you'll reach out. You can email me @ twloha.creighton@gmail.com. Just put my name in the subject or something. Otherwise, I hope you'll find a friend. And if today was easy for you, I hope finding things to be thankful for brought a lovely smile to your face. And maybe all of us can be thankful some day. I mean, the stars are gorgeous, and nothing beats a picturesque sunset. It's just a little hard to notice sometimes.

Where is my God?

Why is God dead to me?

Today I walked out of Kevin's office feeling sad and not understanding why. I went to dinner and forgot about it, surrounding myself with laughter instead of doubt. Then, I went to rehearsal and lost myself to another time. Now, I'm sitting in my room, sad again. I can't say I know why now either.

I do know, however, that I am floating, treading in a sea of undefined emotions and unfulfilled dreams. This life is filled with uncertainty. It's guesswork and longshots, hoping and praying for positive outcomes. When we go to bed at night we don't know we will wake up.

God is supposed to make sense of that mystery. He is our answer to the confusion of the world.

So, what does it mean when we can no longer feel Him. What does it mean when your God has disappeared.

God stopped feeling real to me when I decided to come out. I realized the Church that proclaims my God's Word doesn't accept or love me. Of course, God isn't the Church. God isn't dogma and doctrine, Tradition or tradition. God is Love. Why, then, can't I feel Him anymore?

When you live in a world without a higher power, you don't have the answers anymore. There's no, "It was God's will." There's only humanity, and I'm not sure I like everything I see.

I don't like the bullying and young self-inflicted deaths. I don't like the lack of compassion or the inequality. I don't like that love between two people doesn't constitute a partnership. I don't like that immigration means criminalization.

But I do like that when I have a bad day dozens of smiling faces are there to make it better. I do like that hugs are embraces of whole people, letting them know they are okay. I do like that passions are like the stars, and I can view them with awe. I do like holding hands and sharing everything. I do like trusting and knowing it'll be okay.

So, maybe that's where my God went, to humanity. He is spread out amongst us, waiting to be released in a wink or a wave. In the twinkle of an eye, or in an innocent laugh. Maybe my God is in social justice and people just wanting to do the right thing. Maybe my God is in Love. Maybe He is Love. Maybe I just need to see more of it, of Him.

With hope,
Pat

Non-Christian Thought on Christianity

The journey to God is a trip through broken hearts. But, that journey to God is us. We are not chess pieces being meticulously placed on a chessboard of mistakes. We are creation. We are lovers, dancing through life with the stars as our music.

We are lovers. Some of us love in a romantic sense, but all of us are lovers. We love each other. Our purpose here is not to acquire the multitudes society offers to us. Rather, it is to simply exist in each other's company as community.

They say to live each moment. Well, I will tell you to live in each friendship. Life is not a journey to some end. We already are the end.

We are perfect-- beautiful and perfect. I wanted to tell you that, because I want you to now I love you and your story is important.

with hope,
pat