Welcome to a Three Dimensional World

Saturday, March 8, 2014

It happened again last night. I found myself again appreciating the fact that I live in a three dimensional Universe. These moments of pause come upon me every so often. I'm finally starting to not find them such an 'abnormal' experience when I experience them. It took many months to reach the point where the 'normal' no longer seems so, well, abnormal.

For some reason the people within the city of Minneapolis administration seem to believe Christmas decorations (such as snowflake symbols and now dead greenery) are still appropriate decor for the major thoroughfares of downtown in early March. I enjoyed the holidays as best as I could. I am happy that they are gone by...and that winter is passing away as well. As I have made abundantly clear lately I am quite ready for the warmth of Spring to send Old Man Winter packing for another year.

More than once yesterday I found myself hyper-aware of my life within a three-dimensional Universe.  It's not that I didn't have depth-perception before I received EMDR therapy but it seems that my depth perception simply wasn't as keen. The experience of healing has awakened my artist self to a heightened level of awareness. These moments of sudden awareness of being in the 3-D world happen both in the day and at night. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to when exactly such moments will come over me. I find myself able to enjoy these moments more than I once did.

The moment I had last night was quite vivid. I felt the fresh breeze on my face. I could appreciate the depth of my vision; I noticed the buildings along Hennepin Avenue at various distances from me. I sensed the layering of human geography as expressed in all these different buildings of various shapes, colors and textures. Sometimes when these moments occur at night I find myself especially appreciating the moon and stars (when they happen to be visible).

Grief is still an implicit part of my daily experience. I've resigned myself to not knowing when I will no longer feel the grief so much. Time and time alone will massage the rough edges of my recovery experience such that one day I do believe I will wake up and I'll just feel...normal...and not find that at all strange!

Mingling within my grief is the disappointment I feel with the Twin Cities Gay Men's Chorus. I would be lying if I claimed it didn't still weigh on my heart...at least a bit.  I never have been able to understand 'leaders' who are unable to undertake the more difficult aspects of their roles. Are such tasks fun? Inevitably they are not. Are they necessary? If you want to be a true leader they are. If you can't take the heat then get out of the kitchen. Compassion fatigue is an unruly place to be. I gradually find myself leaving that world behind as I take better and better care of myself. The issues of organizations such as this chorus are not mine to own. I have suffered enough due to my decision to stand firm despite the unkind and childish behavior of others. So it's time to move on.

I admit I do miss several people I have met through the years whom I likely never would have met had I not been a part of gay choruses throughout this country. Of the four choruses I sang in the Portland Gay Men's Chorus and the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington, DC were the best. The leadership of these two organizations seemed to be genuinely professional. I write 'seemed' because that cynicism within me can be so difficult to quench. When a person has experienced as much institutional failure as I have it can be very difficult to not be jaded. What do I mean by institutional failure? I use that term to describe what happens when an institution fails to fulfill its stated mission and associated values. Are there any 'perfect' institutions? I have never seen any. Institutions are made of less than perfect people. I do believe many people out there are doing the best they can. And then there are the others...people committed to avoiding real issues for whatever bizarre reasons they have.

Last night I toyed with an idea of how to frame my experience in my daily writing during this time of Lent. I could spend some time each day imagining myself hanging out at the counter of the Department of Unmet Needs and imagine what the 'representative' on the other side of the counter would say to me.  I could imagine myself in an ongoing conversation and see where the words lead me...just like I allowed when I decided to write this blog and see where the words would ultimately lead me.

The arc of my recovery process continues to point upward. There are good days and bad days but I feel as if my improvement has not entered into some sort of suspended animation. And now that winter is melting away outside the pattern of the seasons will begin to match my own direction rather than run counter to it.