I've had this post brewing for some time, but only felt inspired to write it after watching some of the Logo/HRC debate and reading some of the coverage of it.

This starts with same-sex marriage. Those who know me or who have been faithful readers for a few years know that I don't think much of this issue. It's not a make or break issue for me in a candidate, and it's really not a very pressing issue to me in general, except in fighting back attempts to make same-sex marriage illegal because that's a dangerous slippery slope that could become a gateway to limiting other rights.

And I'm not at all saying that marriage is a basic right or a basic need. That would be silly. Basic needs are food, shelter and safety. Basic rights are those found in the Constitution and its amendments. Same-sex marriage should be legal, but it's not exactly life or death.

So this brings me to my point. Most of the Democratic candidates who participated in the Logo/HRC 'debate' said they did not support marriage equality and used the excuse that "the country just isn't ready yet" or "we're just not there yet" as justification.

Poppycock.

How can you know if you're not ready for something unless you try it and see? And why does 'the country' (code for heterosexual moderates) have to be ready for something that has absolutely no impact on their individual lives anyway?

If my yoga practice has taught me anything, it's that we are capable of doing so much that we might not have otherwise thought possible until we tried. Massachusetts has not fallen into the Atlantic, people aren't dying in the streets in Boston and Amherst and Waltham (shout out to my Brandeis reader!). How were Massachusett-ians(?) any more or less 'ready' for same-sex marriage than anyone else in this country?

It's not that 'we're not there yet' or that 'the country isn't ready'. There may be a lot of people, perhaps even a clear majority, of American voters who are still a little uncomfortable with marriage equality. But is it really fair to use their mild discomfort (and it really is mostly mild according to polling) as an easy out to restrict some rights from one group of citizens?

If you're personally uncomfortable with something, own up to it. Don't hide behind some amorphous nonsense excuse about how other people may or may not feel about the issue. And once you've done that, get over yourself. Seriously. Whatever happened to the greater good?

There were a lot of timid politicians who said that the country wasn't ready for women to vote prior to 1920, or that we just weren't there yet in 1963, a year before Congress passed and President Johnson signed sweeping Civil Rights reforms into law.

You know what? It turns out the United States populace was actually ready for those and other major advances. We just didn't know it till we tried it.

The U.S. democracy has always been a great experiment. There have been lots of rocky points along the way, especially at those times when the oppressed aggressively sought fairness and justice. But the Union endured, just as it will when some politicians with backbones finally grow a pair, pass sweeping pro-equality laws, and the country once again realizes that same-sex marriage, much like interracial marriage before it, is really no big deal.

And on that note, I'll also encourage you, my faithful reader, to try something - anything - you never thought you could do. Stepping out of your comfort zone can be a wonderfully freeing and enlightening experience.

And you don't even need to attend a yoga class with me to prove it.

Open to grace.

Labels: challenge, change, civil rights, equality, fear, history, human rights, LGBT, opening to grace, Pres-08, social justice, yoga

Today is the fifth anniversary of the day my dad and I drove into Tucson from our last stop in Las Cruces, NM in the big yellow truck that carried all my earthly belongings.

I'm having a little bit of a hard time believing that I've stayed in Tucson this long. That day five years ago was filled with such hope and excitement and that nauseating sense of, "oh fuck, what have I just done?!"

For a variety of reasons, I've never particularly loved this place. I just don't find the desert beautiful, as so many transplants do. To me, it's just barren, boring dirt. And the sunsets don't wow me either. They're nice, sure, but they're no better than sunsets in Hawaii or Ithaca.

I don't relish being so down on Tucson. I'm trying to look for the good (it's part of the "flowing with grace" part of my yoga practice), and for the most part, the good is in the people I've met here. They're the reason I've made it through five years here. I'm grateful, even blessed, to count some truly wonderful people as my friends (even if some of them moved away and left me here - you know who you are!).

I'd like to not be here in another five years, but who knows what the future holds? If I'm to make another major move, I intend to do it differently, to have a job lined up, and to do it for concrete and valid reasons.

My life is pretty good. But it could be and deserves to be great. I've taken lemons and made lemonade in the five years I've been here, but I can't help but remind myself that I'm not following my own advice by staying here:

When the world gives you lemons, don't make lemonade; take those lemons back and demand the apples you wanted in the first place.

The time may be ripe for me to start making some apple cider.

Labels: change, contentment, fear, friendship, jobs, moving, not really newsworthy, opening to grace, personal, relationships, self-awareness, self-care, success, Tucson

I'm having some difficulty identifying a new place to live. This wouldn't be a source of much stress if not for the stipulation in my current lease that I give 30 days' written notice of my intent to vacate. I'm afraid of giving notice and then not having a place to live, or worse, settling on a new place that doesn't meet my admittedly high standards.

I've been all over Craig's List and the pickings are slim. I paid my $50 for a printout from REDI. Not much quality there either. I stopped by Apartment Locators and got only one hit in my price range and very broad geographic range. Hillary walked all up and down Armory Park with me yesterday and what was there was either really run down or way too big for my needs.

So I'm left with some not very appealing options: stay put and sign another 8 month lease here (the shortest available nowadays - they used to offer six-monthers, but no more), give my written notice on Thursday and pray real hard, or decide to try out the whole homeless thing while saving enough for a down payment on a house. Since that last option really isn't one, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Actually, a viable third option would be to give notice that I will be going to a month-to-month lease (and paying $150 more per month to do so, which would be good motivation) and ease some of the front-end pressure off me.

I appreciate all the help and thoughtful suggestions I've received from my friends and faithful readers. Please keep passing your leads my way. I'm sure something will turn up eventually.

Update (9:48 PM): About a half hour after I posted this, I received a call back from a landlord who has a two-bedroom house near Fifth and Columbus that I'd driven past over the weekend. I'm going to check it out tomorrow. If the inside is as promising as the outside, I may jump at the opportunity (she has a couple who is also interested, but they have big dogs and she doesn't really want dogs after previous tenants' dogs). It's at the very upper end of my price range, but would still be a marginally smaller percentage of my monthly income than my current place was when I was working for the Center Against Sexual Assault. Stay tuned...

Labels: fear, housing, personal, rent

Acts of kindness that didn't make much sense when they were performed have a funny way of bringing life into focus years later. That's where this story goes. But to tell the story, I have to start with the new year that just came to pass.

I always keep a calendar in my kitchen on the door to my pantry. Since last year's calendar was now expired, it was time for me to buy a new one. I looked at the calendar kiosk in the mall and in Borders, but none of those calendars struck my eye. I decided a yoga calendar was the way to go, since it might help motivate me to keep up my practice throughout the year.

Onto Amazon.com I went in search of such a calendar, which I found fairly easily. Since I was already ordering from Amazon, I figured I might as well also order a book on Ayurveda that was recommended during that workshop I attended a couple of months ago. As you may know, Amazon comps the shipping if you order $25 or more worth of merchandise.

My two books didn't quite make it, and rather than paying the shipping, I figured I deserved the extra extravagance of another book or DVD or CD. I looked through pages of recommendations that the Amazon software provides, but much like my Borders calendar search, nothing struck my fancy.

Then I remembered my friend Chris back in Ithaca. OK, to be fair, we were a little more than friends, but I won't go into all those illicit details here. Chris is an artist and poet of sorts, and always seemed to be on a slightly higher plane of consciousness than me. He always raved about A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers as his all-time favorite book.

I ordered Chris' favorite book because I also recently discovered how his perspective has come to have meaning in my life. Chris and I actually only met in person two or three times, but each time was an intense burst of insight and inspiration (and, admittedly, physical delight). We hooked up one last time about a week before I moved to Tucson. I drove out to his home in one of the rural towns in upstate New York whose name I can't even remember anymore.

After a walk out into the woods to some of his favorite meditation spots, and after enjoying some more carnal pleasures in his bedroom, he presented me a painting he made for me. For years I've been struck by the kindness of the gesture, but never understood the inscription until very recently.

The painting's title is "TREE" and it hangs right next to my front door. It's a mottled maroon background with a meditating figure encapsulating the OM symbol on top and a Japanese character for "tree" on the bottom.

On the back of the painting, Chris wrote:

"TREE"

For Michael

From Chris

June 22, 2002

- Remember that change is inevitable and it can only, eventually, manifest itself as strength -- and fear that preceeds (sic) change is simply excitement for what is about to be, overwhelming you -- you are the master of your direction -- the creator of your own reality

Be well
- CHRIS

The inscription makes so much more sense to me today than it did four and a half years ago. I've long since lost touch with Chris, but his words and his painting now inspire me more than I ever would have expected during our brief friendship. Even in my darkest hours right after moving to Tucson, those words never rang as true as they do today.

I understand more now about change, strength, fear and reality than at any time before now. And as Chris' succinct wisdom those years ago now finds meaningful manifestation in my life, I dedicate my yoga practice in part to him.

Labels: change, fear, friendship, personal, reality, strength, yoga