092: Challenged

Best read with a faux Received Pronunciation (RP):

A while ago I wrote this; and the kind and generous responses I received regarding it filled me with gratitude. A reader challenged me, as well, in the interest of fairness, to write a list of things I like/love about myself. Yet, I must confess, it has been hard, rather almost impossible, trying to come up with that list. Each time when I think about, and try as I may, some positive aspects of my constitution, I burst out in fits of uncontrollable giggles.

But seriously, when you see the world like... well, like this:

Lucas could not help imagining this procession of walkers, all of them poor and battered, wearing old coats too small or too large for them, dragging children who could not or would not walk, all marching along Rivington Street, impelled by someone or something that pushed them steadily forward, slowly but inexorably, so it only seemed as if they moved of their own will; all of them walking on, past the houses and stables, past the taverns. past the works and into the river, where they would fall, one after another after another, and continue to walk, drowned but animate, on the bottom, until the street was finally empty and the people were all in the river, trudging along its silty bed, through its drifts of brown and sulfur, into its deeper darks, until they reached the ocean, this multitude of walkers, until they were nudged into open water where silver fish swam silently past, where the ocher of the river gave over to inky blue, where clouds floated on the surface, far, far above, and they were free, all of them, to drift away, their coats billowing like wings, their children flying effortlessly, a whole nation of the dead, dispersing, buoyant, faintly illuminated, spreading out like constellations into the blue immensity. (by Michael Cunningham, Specimen Days)

Yeah, so when you see the world, and you in it, like that, how can you stop a derisive mirth from springing out?

Despite my inability most of the time to see the cup half full, even if there's much greater beauty in it than there's in emptiness, after some soul searching, I present to you, in no particular order, the list!

1. I love that I am a loyal and a faithful friend.
2. I love that I am a good listener.
3. I love that I know writing this is one of the hardest thing I've done.
4. I love that I can be moved by music.
5. I love that I can be transformed just by reading a book.
6. I love that I show love to others by just being there for them; I know it's not much, but that's the best I can do.
7. I love that I can sing... or that I used to... Whatever! I have a nice voice... I think.
   
8. I love that I lived in Japan for three years, meeting a group of amazing people, who'll always remain close to my heart.
9. I love that I got an Ivy League education. People, I may act like an ignorant dumbass much of the time, but I'm really not. Ignorant, that is. Well... I still have lots to learn, so I guess I can be called ignorant. Anyways, as for acting like a dumbass, the jury is still in. But I love that I got an Ivy League education.
   
10. I love that I live by God's Grace. Once I thought it was a gift that came with conditions, conditions that said that I must follow the rules of the Church. It was a burdomsome gift that made me hate the person I am, hate the person I can never become. But who's to say that the Church is right? Who's to say that I am wrong? Until the veil of Heaven rips open, and there stands God to tell me my wanting to be with a man, to live with a man, to share our lives together, the love and the war, the joys and the pains, until He tells me that I am wrong, that I am damned for all eternity, that His Grace isn't for me, I say to the Pope Benedicts, the Dr. James Dobsons, the Pat Robertsons, or to any of the homophobic "leaders" of the Church out there, I'll bear witness on Judgment Day as an accuser to say your love was insufficient, that you failed to follow one of the greatest commandments; but unlike you, and the people you've influenced to hate, those who shout "God hates Fags," I'll plead your case, too, saying, "Lord, Your Grace is for them as much as it is for me."
    

PATER noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

Addendum: I didn't want to leave this post sounding too religious. So, I'll leave you with a few more things I've realized that I love about me.

1. I love that when I get really hungry, I turn really quiet, more so than I normally am, then I release the bitch within, scathing anyone and anything around me.
2. I love that I can be a total jerk, to the point of being the living embodiment of all the fun words we use for the male and female genitalia. You know, like "prick," "dick," and my favorite, "cunt."
3. I love that I can laugh at myself.
4. I love that I'm sensitive enough and hard enough to survive in this dog-eat-dog world.
5. I love that suddenly I'm finding more things about myself to love.
6. I love that I have some innocence left in me to prevent myself from turning jaded.
7. I love that I can appreciate life in all its glory, the ugly and the beautiful.
   
8. I love that I have hope.
9. I love that I have faith.
10. I love that I have love.