The best parts of today–

1. There is time and space for everything

Last night I went to bed at 10:30. I woke up in the middle of the night for a couple hours, but slept until noon today. My body is so exhausted. Maybe it’s my sinuses. Maybe I’m sick. I don’t know, but I’m glad that my life is such now that I can sleep, can rest.

2. I have a brain that works

This afternoon I started reading a book I’ve toted around for a while now–The Mysteries of Sex by CJS Thompson. It’s a collection of true stories about women who have impersonated or lived as men or vice versa. I think it will be fascinating, but in the introduction (written in 1974) while talking about the fact that we all contain both masculine and feminine qualities, the author says, “The homosexual not only accentuates any feminine qualities he may already possess, such as a high-pitched voice, but also attempts to imitate women in speech, walk, and mannerisms, and from early childhood is usually characterized by an inversion of interests, attitudes, an activities.”

Based on my personal experience as a homosexual, this statement is utter bullshit. (Insert dramatic hand wave here.) But seriously, this has not been true for me. I don’t try to accentuate my feminine qualities (I don’t have a high-pitched voice), nor do I attempt to imitate women. Actually, I don’t try to imitate anyone. I am myself, period. But my point is this–conventional wisdom changes–dramatically–the more information we have. So the next time someone tells you something “because an old book says,” feel free to say, “Wait a damn minute. This is the 21st century, and we know a lot more now.”

3. I can take things in pieces

Earlier I went to the library to work on a travel-writing story, one I started yesterday. I’m still not done with it, but I’m closer. My all-or-nothing brain wants to knock it out in one fell swoop, but my tired body isn’t having it. So I’m working a little at a time. Likewise, for the last few weeks, I’ve been going back and changing all the blog titles one-by-one so that they include an individual blog number (#153, #154, etc.). I originally did this just for milestone blogs (every fifty or so), but as blog “memories” pop up, the title alone doesn’t tell me where a particular blog fell in the grand scheme of things. Anyway, it’s a slow process–I currently have 135 more blogs to go before the project is “complete”–but what’s my hurry?

There’s not one.

4. Old friends are the best

Maybe fifteen years ago I picked up a jacket in a second-hand store–an old workman’s jacket with the name Robert sewn over the left breast pocket. I used to wear him all the time. I say “him” because he (the jacket) sort of developed his own personality the longer I had him. He became my alter ego–a little more sarcastic, a little more outgoing–and was even considered a member of our family. One year he signed my (our) sister’s birthday card. I used to see a chiropractor who would send appointment reminders addressed to “Marcus Robert.”

He was that big of a deal.

Anyway, Robert’s been in the closet for a while now. (Haven’t we all?) But before leaving for the library today, I slipped him on. “Oh, Robert!” Dad said. “I haven’t seen Robert in a long time.”

5. I like you just the way you are

After working at the library, I went with my friend Bonnie to see the new movie/documentary about Mr. Rogers–Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Y’all, this is a beautiful story about a beautiful soul, someone who spent his life believing that every person has inherent value and is worthy of love, someone who taught children that their feelings are valid. I remember watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood growing up, but I don’t think I really “got it” until today. What a gorgeous thing this man was about–the idea that love–or the lack thereof–is at the root of every relationship, every problem and solution. Who doesn’t need to be looked squarely in the eyes and told, “I like you just the way you are”?

Bonnie and I did a lot of crying.

6. Won’t you be my neighbor?

Now it’s 8:30 in the evening, and the rest of the day remains. When this is finished, I’m meeting my friend Kim, who–for months now–has consistently invited me to hear her husband play live music at a local restaurant. To me this persistence sounds like, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” Isn’t it great when someone doesn’t give up on you? What’s better, isn’t it great when you don’t give up on yourself (no matter what anyone else or an old book says, no matter how long part of you has been in the closet), when you realize there’s plenty of time to work everything out, to grow and to find yourself, to love?