A New Missing

Miami. As I sit here, I am becoming acutely aware of two things. I drastically miss my wife, and I am
a bit homesick for New York.

The first came as no surprise. I braced myself for it. She is the love I now call home, and I miss her every day while we simply go about our daily lives. The most perfect time of my day is when I see her again, whether it has been two hours or, because of our different schedules, eighteen. 

The second was a bit of a surprise. Not because I don't love living in New York, but because it hadn't dawned on me that I would actually miss it. You see, I've never lived in a place that I could say I actually miss when I'm away. I've missed people, my family and friends, but never really a place. (Although I miss France, but in a different way. And besides, I think I might have just been born with that condition!)

When I arrived on Sunday, I uber-ed myself over to South Beach. (My first uber experience, by the way, and I am a fan.) The ocean has a way of refreshing my soul, and it felt so wonderful to sink my toes in the sand. I stood on the edge of the water, letting each wave cover my ankles as I closed my eyes and just listened to the sounds of the universe. Afterwards, I walked along Lincoln Road, whiffed more than a few waves of second-hand marijuana, and took in the sights. Realizing I hadn't eaten since breakfast, I started searching. Two blocks up, I was greeted with a familiar sight of home. Shake Shack. The feeling that accompanied this sighting was the first realization of my homesickness. Of course, I had to go. 

As I sat drinking a cold Brooklyn brew and enjoying one of the best hamburgers I think I've had in my life, I smiled realizing my thoughts were in New York not Miami. I thought of the bench in Washington Square Park where I love to sit and read. It is just far enough away to silence the drummers who play on the south-side of the fountain, but close enough to the arch that I can still hear the grand-piano-man playing while I read.

I thought of the Highline and how it winds through the east side of the city above the streets. As with the rest of the city, each season transforms this walk into a fresh new wonder. Canal Street came to mind and the vendors that sell strange Chinese fruits that look like objects out of a child's imagination.

New York's unique sights and sounds have quickly become familiar and comforting to me, but they still hold such wonder and mystery. I'm hooked. It is a thrill to call it home. Many say that one must live in New York for years before they truly become a New Yorker, but I don't know if I agree. Once the city gets inside of you, no place else has the same effect.

One belongs to New York instantly.

One belongs to it as much in five minutes

as in five years. ~ Tom Wolfe

Brunch on Madison Avenue

Crepes at Keko's. If you are ever in our lovely little city, please do yourself a favor and have crepes at this quaint little beauty of a cafe. I was grateful to spend a wintry morning this week in the city with my wife. As we walked along Madison Avenue, the smallest dusting of snow added just a touch more magic to an already magical day. I was reminded once again that we live in New York. We live in New York.

It's been a year. Can you believe it? I can't sometimes. One year ago today, we rolled up in a full Volkswagen Golf after a night of driving, after my last final was taken at University of Louisville. In the spring of 2014, over a nice bottle of Merlot (did you really expect anything less?), we decided to pack up everything and make this move after I graduated. At times, over those next few months, I wondered are we crazy? but I knew--we knew in our gut this was the time for such a move. As pop always says, "do something, even if it's wrong." It was time to do something. Even after we made that leap, and we spent the next fifty days searching nonstop for an apartment, I'd ask myself again, are we crazy?? I also knew that others were asking themselves the same question, are they crazy? Perhaps we are a bit, but if it brings me this much joy--I'd like to sign up for more.

Today, as we sit in our cozy tiny space, I am...happy, content, peaceful. I'm also proud of us. We worked hard this last year to make this thing work--it wasn't always easy, but we faced each day with determination. After a billion resumes (it seemed that many) I even have a job I am thoroughly enjoying. It also brings me such happiness to see M- thriving in the (many) opportunities she's discovered. I am so grateful to be living this journey, this beautiful adventure, with someone who brings countless smiles to my heart.

All this to say, do what is in your heart to do; be happy. Before moving, we discussed the fact that we might actually fall flat on our face--what then? We decided we'd just have to get back up, dust ourselves off, and go for it again. This was a new journey--and the nature of such is that we could not be certain of the outcome. We committed to keep moving forward, no matter how slow our steps. So I'll say it again: do what is in you heart to do; be happy--find peace.

Twenty years from now you will be 
more disappointed by the things you didn't do 

than by the ones you did.

So throw off the bowlines.

Sail away from the safe harbor.

Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore. Dream. Discover.

~Mark Twain~

I think, therefore I write

I am a writer. I've always wanted to say that. I remember the first time I felt this overwhelming sense of pride in writing. I wrote a page (yes, just one page) for some school project called, "My Philosophy." I still have it tucked away in a random box somewhere. I was so proud of that piece.

Last year, I started a memoir. (which can be followed at leavinggodfindingme.blogspot.com) Actually, I started it two years prior, but then decided that I wasn't really a writer and deleted over fifty pages of work. I am sometimes a bit impulsive--to my detriment. Contrary to what you might believe from the title, it is not an effort to de-convert anyone. It doesn't matter to me what you believe. It is a desire, through the telling of my own journey, to encourage readers to explore life in all its facets and find their own place of peace. My journey led me out of religion and out of the closet, but many have found their peace in their chosen religions. This is cool. As long as we are actively pursuing being peace, I'll support you and cheer you on! 

I write because I have found my voice. I also discovered, while in college, that I was actually a decent writer. (Some may still argue that point, but such is life) I put off taking basic English classes because I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to pass. Whereas most people get ENG 101 & 102 out of the way during their first semesters, I waited until my fifth and sixth semesters! I have to laugh at myself sometimes. 

Being in New York has been an inspirational boost for my writing, and I am finding more and more ideas floating around in my head. Will I make millions? Probably not. (although I secretly dream of paying off student loans and buying a cottage in southern France) The important part is that I've found my voice, and I realized I have a story to tell. Yes, I found it much later in life than I would have liked to have found it, but that seems to be my modus operandi in life! The truth is that my voice and my story were already inside, I just had to discover them. So...what's your story?

"Cool, we're going through a tunnel!"

Yesterday, on the A sub home from Harlem, I watched in delight as twin boys, probably four-ish years old, experienced their very first sub ride. I knew this to be a fact because of the conversation happening between parents and sons as they entered the sub and found a seat. Luckily, I had a clear view of their faces.  They were visiting an older relative, also on the sub, and she appeared just as delighted as the boys about the whole experience. 

In an effort to make the jostling, noisy ride into the depths of the earth more adventurous than scary, the father was excitedly explaining how the sub worked, and the "really cool" anticipated tunnel we would soon be "zooming" through. As the doors closed, the two boys' eyes were big with excitement; they both wore a grin as they rattled off questions about what they were about to encounter. They were also beyond excited to see dinosaurs on the station wall as we started to move.(We were near the Museum of Natural History) As if planned, we were beside the D sub at this particular point and one of the boys waved passionately at all the the passengers in the sub next to us. 

As we left the station lights behind, the father's tactic worked. The boy sitting closest to his father yelled out, "Cool, we're going through a tunnel!" I even saw a small smile escape an older business man's lips who had been engrossed in his paper across the aisle.What a wonderful event to witness. I sat there and thought about it; yes, it really was cool.

That young boys' enthusiasm expresses how I feel about my life at this point. "Cool, I'm living in New York!" "Cool, I have found this Love I now call home!" "Cool, I'm married and we are so happy!" "Cool, I have found my place and my peace in this world." This life's adventures keep getting better. Yes, life has its uncertainties, but the fear of the unknown or the different should never keep us from experiencing the present moment.

Peace.

Change of Heart and Car-less

I think it must have been that month in France a couple of summers ago that really did it. Driving used to be this therapeutic experience for me. In my younger years, when I was angry or needed to clear my head, I'd go for a drive; road trips were short little mini-vacations themselves, and my red mustang knew its own way to Orlando and Boca Raton. Once, I jumped in my jeep and drove to Washington DC for dinner! No big deal, it was only nine and a half hours.

Perhaps I finally grew tired of it after commuting forty-five minutes each way for over ten years, or maybe I started to realize how much our country is grossly dependent upon cars and the effects of such dependency on the world around us. Whatever the reason for this evolution of thought, I found myself completely and utterly content with tram systems, subways, high-speed trains, and my own two legs while in France. It was a true change of heart, and since that time, I've been discontent with my own dependency.

For the past four months, we've not been hindered in the least by living car-less. On the contrary, we actually enjoy not having one. (the baby car sold this week--we are officially car-less now!) Only once in the past four months have we actually needed a vehicle, and in this case, it was to transport a piece of furniture that wouldn't have fit in our baby car anyway! (Grateful, once again, to a kindhearted uncle) Add to this the beautiful benefit of dinner in the city and not having to worry who will drive home, so, yes, thanks for asking, we'll both have another glass of wine.

Obviously, not everyone can practically function without a car, but it was important for us to give this a go. I had tried and failed in Louisville; anyone who has had to rely upon the TARC system knows how utterly discouraging this experience can be! Dealing with our own dependency on a car was not our main motivation behind moving to New York, but it was powerful factor in the decision making process. As with many things, it is simply not enough for us to talk about changing the mindset of the world in which we live; this time, it was important for us to actually be the change we want to see in this world.

It may seem like a small thing, and truthfully, it sometimes feels insignificant, but then I remember this, choose to go on, and do the best I can:

I am only one,

But still I am one.

I cannot do everything,

But still I can do something;

And because I cannot do everything,

I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.

Edward Everett Hale

Peace to you!

Feelings of Spring in NYC

While the Love I now call home spent the day in the foreign lands of Brooklyn yesterday, I sat out on the hunt for a desperately needed pair of khakis and a new something to explore. I had exhausted all other options, so I took a deep breath and walked through the revolving door of Macy’s…yes, that one. My severe lack of shopping fervor and this eight floored mammoth don’t play nicely, and any survived trip to this colossal zoo is considered a roaring success.

I rewarded myself with a cappuccino from Keko's (thank you for the introduction, Tiffany) and a nice sunny hour in Madison Square Park. We've almost survived our first winter here, and I have a sneaking suspicion that springtime will be worth every single early morning trek in the bitter, snowy cold.

A collective sense of relief could be sensed in the droves of New Yorkers who were out and about today. The streets and the park was alive with activity. There were those enjoying a book, lunch, conversation, or simply the sunshine. Children were making their wobbly way towards the playground on tiny bikes with parents in tow. The air was filled with laughter coming from that direction as well.

Three months. I’m shocked when I realize we've been here only three months. Tom Wolfe once said, “One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years.” I’d add to that: either one feels they belong to New York instantly or they don’t, in which case they may never feel it. Perhaps that is how it is with most places, but it seems surely the case here.

Ciao.

P.S. Last weekend we hosted our very first official visitors to NYC! It was exciting for us, and we were so pleased to show them a small bit of our little city. With time, we'll be better tour guides, but merci for letting us practice on you, Marie & Warren.

Married Life Suits Me

Ahhh, married life. A friend sent us a small little piece of décor that states, “I love us,” and I have to say that I couldn't have said it better myself. I love us in our tiny space with moving boxes for tables, I love us in our endless conversations, and I love us in the peaceful silence of just being together. All I thought I knew about love, happiness, and peace has been blown away by this Love I now call home—and now wifey.

I also love us in this city; I love that others around us see us as…well…as a legitimate us. I love that the girls at work threaten to tell my wife, when I won’t stop doing something in particular. I love that that customers ask about my wife’s school and our new “flat”. I love that we can file our taxes together and mark “spouse” on random forms. I didn't anticipate the true difference I would feel living in a city that legally and structurally acknowledges us. Our relationship, our love, our laughter, and our sheer enjoyment of one another’s company has not changed, except perhaps in growth, but it is a nice feeling to be acknowledged. I am truly grateful.

While my own feelings of peace are rapturous, my heart is heavy for my LGBT brothers and sisters in places such as Uganda, Russia, and unfortunately, I could add a few of our own United States to this list. I cannot imagine the terror or discouragement they feel. Because of the fear of violent discrimination, imprisonment, or in some cases, even death, they are not free to experience the us feeling that surrounds me every day.  As I am keenly aware of my own freedom in this aspect, I am also challenged to speak up for those, in all cases, whose voices have been silenced.

I wasn't always this free to be myself; having grown up in a society openly unaccepting of that which I felt I was, I understand, to a small degree, what the struggle feels like, although notably and gratefully without the elements of violence many of these now face. Many thoughts swirl in my head. It leaves me wondering what it might take for us to reach a point of nondiscrimination, nonviolence, and peace. Can WE reach a point where we can accept our diversity within the fabric of our interconnectedness?

A newbie mishap = A beautiful day

I’d like to think our accidental adventure of today happens to all New York newbies, but perhaps it’s only because I’m slightly crazy, and we tend to get so wrapped up in our adventures (and each other, to be honest) that we don’t always pay attention. Either option (and I’d prefer not to know which one you think fits us) provided a day of fascinating views, peace-filled moments, and sacred laughs.

Note to self: In a city full of bridges, the first bridge you see upon exiting the subway is not always the bridge you've gone in search of.

Because a sunny, mid-fifties New York kind of day is not something to be wasted indoors, we decided to trek across the Brooklyn Bridge and soak up the splendor. A first time for both Brooklyn and its bridge, we decided to hop on the F Train, surface in Brooklyn, and walk back across to Manhattan. It would seem reasonable, in most cities, to head towards the end of the bridge easily seen from the subway exit, so without checking google map again, (my holy book since moving to the city) two city blocks, and across the bridge we go. But then again this is no ordinary city...

It was beautiful from the word go. It rose quickly above the streets and away we went across the East River. The massive beams and cables, The Statue of Liberty in the distance, the seemingly tiny people standing around Jane’s Carousel on the shore, and the “other” bridge west of where we stood. We even commented on the people walking on the bridge and added it to our mental checklist of things to do on sunny days. It was a spectacular walk and the structure of the tallest beams on the bridge reminded us of the Eiffel Tower and our trip to Paris.

Afterwards, as I stood in line for the restroom at a small café in Little Italy, something slowly dawned on me…….wait a minute; isn’t the Brooklyn Bridge stone? In a flash, images came back to me and it hit me; that “other” bridge was the Brooklyn Bridge! Like a mad woman laughing to myself, I texted M, while she waited for our cappuccinos: I think we were just on the Manhattan Bridge! Yes, folks we had indeed had a marvelous adventure, and the view was more than spectacular, but these awe inspiring moments rightfully belong to the Manhattan Bridge not the Brooklyn Bridge!

Such is the life of a newbie in the city. Not only do we have a wonderful day in our memories, we now have a story to go with it! After a walk through Chinatown, we headed home to our tiny space with hearts full of laughter and smiles. Our day turned out perfectly beautiful, and it just proves again that some of the most wonderful things happen accidentally along the way.

Some Observations Thus Far

Don’t misjudge the depth of a snow-melting-puddle. Like life in general, some things aren't always how they appear. And as in life, you’ll sometimes find this out by stepping in boldly only to be met with that cold, soggy feeling of instant wet socks. The walk home will feel a bit longer, but the lesson will stay with you. We live, we learn, and in my case, we go home and change our socks.

You are often met with the same attitude you portray. During our semester in France, and in spite of the stereotype of those rude French, we were met with exactly one stereotypical rude being; as it turns out, he was from San Francisco! So there. New Yorkers, as with many other human sentient beings on this planet, most often respond accordingly to the way in which they are approached. Encountering others in a genuine, patient, and kind manner will do wonders for your personal adventures in human interactions. Try it and see. 

A huge space with an excessive amount of things is not needed for contentment. Of course we all know this, but these last few weeks have been a good reminder to me. With most of our things still in storage at the farm, (thank you mom and pop!) and with the realization that many of these things in storage are out-of-the-question-too-large for our new little flat, (as one customer calls it) we've been again reminded that life is about love, relationships, and moments. Full stop. Bare walls echo our laughter, and we are reminded of our peace, contentment, and gratitude.

If the beautiful snow ever ceases and decides to melt we will be out exploring more. (We've had one of the snowiest winters on record thus far!) For now, a lot of work, a lot of résumés, and a lot of settling into our new routines. My brilliant wife has her hands full with school and honors program. Tonight we are celebrating our birthdays with the Uncles over pool, beers, burgers, and laughter by all. Oh, and did I happen to mention that we are loving our new life here? Peace.

a month into life in our new city

One month...and a few days. It's a quiet, rainy, sunny, snowy, but nevertheless, inspiring Saturday morning in our glorious new city. Not all has gone according to plan, but other events have far surpassed any plans we could have imagined.  We're still camped out in the spare bedroom of family good-natured-ness, while we learn that the apartment market in NYC is craz-i-ness for sure. Talk about life in the fast lane! Our agent called to show us a studio last week only to find out that it had been leased by another agent before we could even physically arrive at his office. Lightening fast! Still, we are getting closer...soon....

We've also learned that "cozy" is NYC slang for small-ass-tiny-practically-microscopic. But how we adore cozy little studios, so we're A-okay with this. (And our future guests will have to be fond of this--and us--as well!) We both share this conviction of one's responsibility to take up as little space/resources on this earth as possible, so we're excited by this idea. (As a side note, have you heard of the tiny house movement such as tumbleweed tiny houses? We are both fascinated and inspired by this concept, and I encourage you to check it out and give it some thought.)

Oh, and then there's the day we got married.....Oh yes, we did. January 10th. It was a beautiful, snowy morning. I've never been happier and more at peace with any decision in my entire life. I am beyond grateful for this beautiful soul--force of nature--and our life together. She gets me and still wanted to marry me. Yay me! I am truly home.  

I know New York is not the place for everyone, but it seems a beautiful fit for us. Overall, I love the people here; they have this invigorating sense about them that I find brilliant. The city itself carries a personality that makes one feel as though it is a real person, for lack of a better word. It is not just a place in which to live; it is an essence that one has an ongoing conversation with--an old friend who accepts you just as you are while pushing you to reach beyond yourself. 

Once we find and settle in to our cozy apartment, I'll try to communicate on a more regular basis. Keep your fingers crossed for us, please, on all accounts. Resumés are going out in record numbers. For now, peace to everyone and remember to slow down and enjoy the moments. 

Ciao, 

K Wimberley Casey

Happy Christmas

Happy Christmas from New York! It has been an eventful eleven days, but so oh-my-gosh wonderful. First things first, never, never underestimate the beautiful gesture of "a leg up." Figuratively speaking, and coming from a horse-riding family, if you've ever tried to get on a larger horse, you ask someone to give you a helping hand, a boost, as one might say, making it easier to tackle the task at hand. We've been so grateful for the kindness, and spare room, of our oh-so-cool family while we're looking for a place. The leg up has been absolutely priceless; we hope to pass this helping hand along many, many times in the future--it is the very least we can do.

We're learning as we go, living and learning, or as The Love I now call home says in Arabic, eish ew shoof. Navigating the city, exploring the DMV, and realizing that walking distance quickly becomes a relative term and that a scarf is a priceless piece of clothing. I am also quickly realizing something about human interaction. Often times, we set the tone of an interaction. We've met some of the most pleasant people here, (along with a few rude ones, I'll admit) but it has left me pondering how much of the stereotypical rudeness is often just a response to our own tone set by our preconceived ideas. I was reminded of our month in France and the genuine niceness we encountered there, opposite of those rude French stereotype. I have to ask myself, "How much of peoples' interaction with me is in my control?" It is truly worth the ponder.

Last, but certainly not least, there was my Christmas Eve Mall Lockdown Extravaganza. The shortened version of the saga:  the commotion behind me ended up being hundreds of frantic people running towards the Bux kiosk screaming "shooter!" As I quickly made my way to the American Eagle stock room, surrounded by panicked people, I realized the only thing I wanted to do was to make a phone call to that girl I love to tell her again, that I loved her. Her voice immediately brought a peace to my soul that is indescribable. Twenty minutes and the all clear came. Gratefully, a false alarm. A clumsy shoplifter, four over zealous security guards, and a broken glass in the Macy's storefront had set off the panic, but I realized afresh and anew how precious life is and how much I adore the Love of my life. Words fail me sometimes.

Anyway we look at it, life is a complicated adventure. Life can certainly change within a split second, making the moments spent with those we love all the more cherished. Those long twenty minutes, made me also rediscover my intense passion for peace. Believing there was an actual shooter, I contemplated the inner turmoil of someone in such a state of desperation and disillusionment. Who would take the lives of random, innocent people on Christmas Eve? Again, gratefully, it was a false alarm, but in today's world, it very easily could have been. World peace comes from individual inner peace. Each human interaction of peace produces moments of peace within the fabric of society. May we make a more concentrated effort to become agents of peace in the upcoming year.

Fare thee well, Louisville

We are here! I am so excited to begin this new chapter with this Love I now call home! It seems that I have unknowingly underestimated the sheer enjoyment that comes from having someone in which to share life's adventures. My bad; I stand corrected. I must be the luckiest person in the world.
Wow. Having only planned to stay in Louisville for six months or so when I moved back in 1997, I'd say it was certainly time. Not being overly thrilled about the idea of moving back to Louisville (sorry!), I'll admit that it took me a bit to warm up to the place. I loved and missed my family and they were here, so that was my starting point. The next sixteen years were full of many events. Some expected, but many, many unexpected events along the way. Some were beautiful, some were heart-wrenching, and some were absolutely life-changing. I lost a job that I thought I'd keep forever (but this took me on a life-changing, magnificent soul search!), I saw two beautiful nephews begin life and add immeasurable joy to our family, and I found the Love I now call home, or rather she found me. I traveled often, and I (finally) received my degree, a life-long goal. I also found myself; oddly enough, I hadn't even realized that I was missing, but I most certainly was.

So, I'll hold Louisville as a special place, and I'm sincerely grateful to have met each and every one of you along the way. Yes, even those who have produced some of those heart-wrenching events! I could not have always said that, but I've come to see that every encounter taught me something about myself, life, love, kindness, and humanity in general, so for that, I am grateful.

I'd thought I'd leave you with a few parting suggestions as I go:

1. Relax in the moment. No, I really mean it. Just relax in the moment.
2. Get involved in an organization that is creating dialogue in the community. I suggest KFTC-Kentuckians for the Commonwealth, but if this isn't your cup of tea then find one that fits.
3. Go to WorldFest in the Fall. It is a wonderful display of this community's international beauty--I don't care if it's hot or rainy, go and show your support. I'll truly miss going.
4. Make an effort to get to know people--especially those who have different opinions/beliefs/lives/cultures from you. As Brown Pop always says, "It's not wrong, it's just different." We all have much more in common than we realize. (...and we'd all be better people if we followed Brown Pop's example.)
5. Read Thich Nhat Hanh's book, Good Citizens. 
6. Eat at Yaffa Cafe on 4th and Broadway. You can will most definitely thank me later.
7. Be kind. I believe it was Mother Teresea who said, "I prefer to make mistakes in kindness than to work miracles in unkindness."

Finally, find your peace. My peace and happiness might not suit you, but it is a most wonderful, joyous, fulfilled place to me. Be happy. Keep in touch. I'll miss you.

Peace with me--peace to you.

I always get a bit sappy and thought-ful this time of year. I admit it. You know, it took some time to come to terms with myself. Years actually. After I allowed myself to be at peace with me, it has taken me some time to come to terms with the fact that some people now see me in a somewhat tainted light. I knew it would happen, I warned myself to prepare for it, so I wasn't surprised, but still, it disappoints me--and if I'm honest--hurts a bit to think of it.

I have no real reason to be shocked by this for I've spent more years than I care to remember standing in judgment of others. Others' choices, others' hardships, others' viewpoints, others' journeys, others' lives. Of course, I didn't call it judgment, but strip away the niceties and that's what it was. Actually, my judgmental attitude only became clear to me as I allowed myself to be at peace with me. Almost as if I had used my judgment of others to make myself feel better about myself--it was my defense mechanism.

 Of course I still catch myself in judgment, much to my shame, but I am deeply aware of this human tendency within me. I am deeply aware of my own flaws that make me lash out at someone else's journey. I am also deeply familiar with the pointing of fingers while desperately trying to hold my own life together, hoping no one notices the look of panic behind my eyes. I lived much of my life in just such a state; exchanging this for true empathy and compassion is how I wish to live out the rest of my days.

I wish we could all learn to cut ourselves and each other a little slack--no, a lot of slack. We often act like this life is a competition, but we don't stop to consider that we are all connected. All of us--whether we like it or not. There really is no them in this thing called life. Whether we live in New York, Louisville, Baghdad (the one in Kentucky or Iraq!) or Beijing, our choices and paths aren't always clearly marked--many of us are simply doing the best we can--and those paths are often very connected to the choices and paths of others.

*a very wise someone recently told me (I'm paraphrasing for he said it much more eloquently): the journey is just a journey, but the real issue is whether or not the journey has heart. I absolutely loved that. 

Along my journey, I found a peace for which I'd been desperately searching; I found it as I allowed myself to just be. I live every day in deep-felt gratitude of this fact. I realize that my personality and life has many different shades. My hope is that we can focus on the whole person of another, lay aside judgments, and make our own life a refuge of peace for those who are struggling to find their own.

Identity

In one of my classes we've been discussing, among other things, identities. To some degree, our identity is always being stretched, pulled, redefined and challenged. That's just part of being in this thing called life. This discussion has caused me to think in terms of my life's journey and the twists, turns, ups, downs, tears and laughter that have brought me to this beautiful present moment. It has taken some time to come to terms with myself. Years actually. After I allowed myself to be at peace with me, it has taken me some time to come to terms with the fact that some people now see me in a somewhat tainted light. I knew it would happen, I warned myself to prepare for such a thought, but yet I was unprepared for how I'd feel. I harbor no ill will, but still I hope....

I remembered a piece I had written a few years ago. I'll post it below. Writing has played an integral role in my inner dialogue on the topic of identity. My journey of self-identity has also made me more deeply aware of the ways in which I form my opinions of others. I hope I'm becoming more loving. I hope I'm becoming more tolerant. I sincerely hope I'm becoming more compassionate. I hope we learn to cut ourselves and each other a little slack--or a lot of slack. Whether we live in New York, Louisville, London, or Beijing, we're all in this together. Really.

One Thing Among Many

(2011)

I like me; I won’t lie. I think I’m funny as hell. I love my sarcastic soul.

I get lost in music.

I love to laugh.

I've been drinking coffee since I was two.

I’m a fighter.

I’m loyal.

When my family or friends are attacked, a fury rises up within me; 

Do not pick on the ones I hold dear—they are my world.

My eyes are blue.

My hair is short.

I’m a lefty.

I keep a wall around my heart. Few get in. It takes time to truly get to know me.

Charlie Brown and Snoopy are the greatest.

I love the outdoors. Fresh air is good for the soul.

I love cigars and wine.

I love to talk—to anyone about anything. There’s so much we can learn from each other.

I’m a good listener.

I’m a nerd.

I believe that dreams do come true.

I love my life. It is this grand adventure full of highs and lows; 

it is my own journey that no one else can live.

I love learning from those who hold a different point of view than mine.

Peanut Butter & Jelly is the best sandwich ever invented.

I’m a book-lover; 

many hours past bedtime were spent with the moon as my nightlight.

I love to watch TV with my dad.

I have a temper and a two broken toes to prove it.

I play piano.

Some of my favorite childhood memories are of cutting wood with my dad and grandpa.

I love languages and cultures; dialogue is a beautiful art.

My dad is my hero. He has the kindest soul I have ever known.

I love tattoos.

My mom is my inspiration to go after what I want in this life: don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do.

I’m overly optimistic.

I love to travel. 

I am gay.

first page of a final chapter

It is an odd feeling to know that my final semester begins tomorrow. I've been trying to let this sink in. In a way, it's like starting the first page of a final chapter. New York is waiting patiently for us [16 weeks in the future] as the first chapter of a volume two and I believe it will be quite the sequel. 

My challenge for these next weeks of study is to stay in the present. Words are not sufficient to express our excitement concerning our future plans, but to live too far in the future would be to waste the lessons I still have left to learn here. To grasp towards the future is to miss out on an awful lot of living right here, right now.

A fulfillment of a dream doesn't come along everyday, so this is one I want to stay completely and utterly awake for.

Namaste

my bench

At first glance this bench is nothing special. There are quite possibly hundreds like it on this very campus, but this one holds a memory for me that is not easily forgotten.

Today, I took a break from wrestling with financial aid (an activity I will not miss) and visited my bench. Two years ago, I hesitantly forced myself to explore the campus I would soon be attending. I had only been here once before that chilly spring day and I'm not ashamed to say that I was greatly intimidated. On that day of forced exploration, while sitting on this very bench, I made a promise to myself. I would finish my degree no matter how intimidated I felt. Being long past the average college age, I knew that this wouldn't be the easiest goal in the world, but I knew that I must do this...for myself.

Today, I am staring at my last semester, one final burst of energy is all that is needed before I move to NYC with the Love I now call home and we continue our beautiful life together. As I sat on my bench to reflect, I realized that I am growing tired of essays, 2am bedtimes and final exams, but I can see the bright light of my tunnel coming into focus. I am almost there; what an incredibly breathtaking journey it has been. Laying the morbid thought of school debt aside, (that is rant for another day) I will have accomplished something I would not have believed I was capable of accomplishing ten years ago. I am ever grateful for this journey and the strength and peace I have found  inside along the way.

A Monumental Week

June 26, 2013. Many events in history seem to become monumental in hindsight; it's only in the looking back that we are able to say, wow! Only in the looking back are we able to see how life changed, for better or for worse, due to such events. This week's events happened in a way that required no such hindsight for their wow-ness factor; in hindsight, the events of this week will only continue to be more beautiful as the tapestry of an [ever growing] enlightened humanity becomes more brilliantly colored.

I could not be more thrilled about Wednesday's decisions and what they really and truly mean for us personally, but I believe the ripples of goodness stretch far, far beyond what we are likely to realize presently. (but the Voters' Rights decision is still a bit mind-boggling to me!) At the end of the day, I am thrilled for our entire nation--those who continue the fight for equality and those who are still adamantly against it. Whether they ever see the rightness of the decisions made, equality, fairness and justness are good for the health of our nation as a whole--including those who oppose. President Obama's response was fitting: "When all Americans are treated as equal, no matter who they are or whom they love, we are all more free." The health and peace of a nation--of all humanity--depends on such things as equality and fairness.

Our Constitution's Preamble states: We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. We are still far from the perfect Union, but when we throw a bit more equality for all into the mix, we have indeed stepped closer.

Ciao & Namaste.

Personally, the thought of being six short months away from a life in New York where our marriage will be legally recognized on the state and federal level makes my soul do a little happy dance.

the beginning

A new stage of the journey calls. Sometimes life reaches a plateau; it is up to you to decide if that plateau is to be home or if it is a sign to make a move. In my case--in our case--it is a sign to make that move.

My ever beautiful life took an extraordinarily ecstatic turn a few years ago. Not only did I meet the love of my life, but I also became absolutely and irrevocably alive. Sappy, maybe, but I was most assuredly blindsided by this love I now call home. If you are ever so lucky as to meet her and feel her heart, her energy and her love for humanity, you'll know that she is quite a force to be reckoned with; trust me, you'll never be the same.

Our passions in life are quite similar with different twists and quirks here and there. Our heart is set on peace and helping souls from differing cultures and backgrounds learn to listen, understand, and communicate with each other in order to create the safe and respectful dialogue that is needed for this peace.Everyone has a story, a journey, a series of events that make up who they are today, and people need to know that someone is listening to their unique story--their voice.

What does this have to do with eight million plus two? I'm so glad you finally asked! We are in the process of moving to the land of New York City. I'll finish my degree in December and we will trek to the North that is calling. She will finish her degree in NYC and we will live, work, play and love in the city of 800 languages. (For accuracy's sake, NYC currently has 8.4 million, but eight point four million plus two seemed a little too mathematical to me.)

So, we have six months to plan, to work, to finish school, to save, to pack and to see any of you who want to see us before we leave. I hold such deep gratitude for my life and my beautiful family and friends; this new level of happiness, peace and contentment with the Love I now call home is beyond belief and has taken my gratefulness to new heights. 

Ciao!