Walking on the Shards of Shattered Dreams

>Your 20s were supposed to be the best years of your life–they were my worst.

.>Your 30’s? Uh oh! You are close to middle age, not good!—the best years of my life

>40’s, well, now you are really asking for it. You’re really close to 50 Buckeroo–non-eventful, didn’t care for it, and didn’t hate it either.

>50’s. Run for the hills! Scratch that! Roll down the hill because you are now over the hill, you fat bastard–50’s have been my Renaissance. A close second to my 30s, I’m really enjoying it.

There is something I am thinking about, and it comes from Billy Joel. I was watching a documentary on the famous musician called “And So It Goes.” It is surprising in many ways, not to mention all his ups and downs. Nevertheless, in the end, Billy concludes with the realization that he has lived his dream of wanting to make an impact that would leave a lasting mark on the world. He didn’t consider himself done or having things all figured out, but “at least I have that”.

We are in a time in our world of such darkness, and before that hit, there were a lot of complaints of self-centeredness and complacency that led us here. Someone like Billy Joel, one of my favorite musicians since I was a young kid, put in a lot and I mean a lot of work, sacrafice, blood, sweat and tears not just into his work but the life journey to stick with what he knew was true, to live authentically despite the consequences, to persuit his dreams and ultimately make an impact on others in a self-less way but also part of a self-fulling prophecy.

I wonder, on my birthday night, how many people can even grasp the scope of that for their own lives? Because not all of us get to be on stage, make record deals, hear the applause, and continually look out at an audience to know that, despite shattered dreams, we still have made an impact along the way. One of several of Billy Joel’s wives remarked that neither of them was prepared for the cost of the fame they had so desired. Yes, it provided some “things” but at a great cost.

What I like about Billy Joel that comes out in his singing is that it is not polished but rather authentic. He feels accessible to everyone. And that’s how I have always wanted to be. I think just like him, many of us walk on the shards of shattered dreams, but without the grandstand of show-stopping recoveries like he got to have with new hit albums. I like a phrase I heard recently, that it is not the talent you are born with, but rather how well you can work the recovery from many failures.

We are a society that only shows and celebrates the successes without showing the broken dreams, failures, and heartaches behind them all, and then we measure our lives against this impossible standard.

I was thinking of my shattered dreams. How harsh, deep, and repetitive they have been. People want to hide behind masks, but there are probably more people who are on plan B, C, or D in their lives rather than plan A. People, unlike Billy Joel, who knew in his early teens that he would be a famous piano player and stuck with that.

I started writing at age 10 and have been writing ever since, but I’m no Billy Joel or Tokein of the literature world. Heck, I’m not even a James Patterson. Getting to plan B took me well into my 30’s after many hard jobs and abuse on the job, and then graduating right when the job market crashed, leaving me without a job in my field for years, so I had to take something similar in the field but far less paying. And by the time jobs were open, I had so much anxiety built up from so much on-the-job abuse, I had to go through therapy to even determine if I could “promote” myself to the job I went to school for. So, yes, I’m in Plan B, which isn’t bad, but it was a knockdown fight over years of struggle. The good news for me is that I feel I am making the impact I want to make in Plan B, and that turns out to be more important for me than just making money. It was a valuable, hard lesson to learn, and I’m glad I learned it. I may be even making a deeper, richer impact in this plan than in Plan A. I’m still not sure about that one.

I suffer in my craft regularly, though. Many don’t read my works and may never know they exist. At least a few do, and when I did a Memoir about my coming out, that produced even more readers for that book. However, it is not even close to the audience I imagined I would have. That may never change, which tends to give you the feeling of why even do the craft? But if you are an artist of any kind, you know you just have to. It’s part of your blood. So you do it, although maybe 1 to 10 to none may view it.

I am reminded of this strange balance of shattered dreams and being grateful. I think of how kind people have been to me this year, around the move to my 1st apartment. There has been so much kindness extended to me. It’s something, I guess, I needed to experience in a cruel time.

I am and can only be me, and that often gets me into trouble. Why? I don’t exactly know. But people generally either really love me or find me completely dull–like a piece of Salvation Army furniture to be used and tossed aside. From a close friend of my dad’s who tried to molest and abduct me in a car ride, to all the bullying that went on in schools, to making my band friends but losing them once I graduated like I never existed, to building up close relationships in Christian fundamentalists and exgay ministries and losing all them when I came out (and some I really needed to lose and fast), to toxic treatement in a men’s organization I had become a leader in and I just had to walk away after several years, to building up relationships within the gay community only to see those crumble when the test of true friendship came around, to getting fired from 2 jobs for being gay and now…?

Now as a guy who deeply wants to love and be loved?

I guard my heart and life closely with few people I trust while still looking for ways to expand. Yet, we have this country and administration that isn’t expansive but is being very restrictive and is bringing a new element of darkness upon us all, which is very concerning.

However, I keep a few things always in front of me. It is 3 things: faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love. Yes, that is a Bible verse, and it is so true. Religion in the form of organized religion has been a real slap in the face and at other times a lifesaver, but mostly fed me dung when I needed bread. From Catholicism craziness (not saying Catholics are crazy, I just went to Catholic School and a lot of crazy stuff happened under their tutelage), fundamentalism, ex-gay ministry, and evangelism. Things that really had me believe this was God. To parse out what was and what isn’t has been no less difficult than the surgery that I’m still doing. And then having visions for certain ideas, and there just not being enough room for it in the minds of leadership, over and over again, was disheartening to say the least.

I remember having a written proposal for a youth ministry because I was asked to have one, but I was glad to do it. I also wanted to go out and get training with an organization in Wisconsin. I was so excited about their ministry out there that I had seen on a TV program for youth. I was told by leadership of the church that they didn’t have a “vision for a youth group” but they would get back to me on it. When I contacted the ministry in Wisconsin, they were additionally lackluster about me coming without a big hooray from my Church. The minister at my church even said he thought he and I would be great working together, but he couldn’t go off that. God had to be the one to tell him to do it. So there went that. I guess he was waiting for a sign rather than the knock God was already giving him on his soul but how could young me tell a minister that? Their getting back to me was a leadership training they provided for their whole church, in which we, who were interested in a youth group, were directed to start attending a community youth group and try funneling those youth over to the Church. It felt disingenuous, so I tried to start something with what I had, with little interest I had. It didn’t last.

This is just one of many examples of its kind that are just kind of heartbreaking. I kind of humorously think of that old Uncle Sam poster in wartime that would say, “I Want You” or “Uncle Sam Wants You”. Well, they didn’t want me whenever I showed up with my ideas, wherever I went church wise.

This is why I have always loved to be with children, because they give and receive love unconditionally. I don’t mean this in a creepy Michael Jackson kind of way. I’m an educator, and I mean it totally in making an impact on kids in a positive way. I can be real with them to an extent, with a boundary that I am comfortable with, and that is enough. There is authenticity there.

I think probably my biggest heartbreak was the men I walked with in ex-gay ministry through so many dark times who are just gone. I have no way to connect with them after so much deep, deep sharing. That’s hard. I think and wonder about them a lot. We shared many laughs, too.

The other would probably be the shrinking of my family through so much family loss, though the relationships in the gay community that have hit a wall or are just shallow are a close second. I love my family. They accept me unconditionally and always have. I don’t take that for granted. And I remember quite vividly the day the universe told me, when we were all together healthy the last time, that this would be the last time we would be, to cherish it. And it was the last time. I lost my sister and father within 5 or so months of each other due to cancer, and the family has been walking the plank ever since. I love them beyond, beyond. Even the last funeral was hard due to the absence of those who couldn’t attend because they are gone! It is scary. I don’t trust people outside of them. I’ve been burned so so much.

The only hope I have is this journey I have been on in my 50s of self-love. I think that is the key to a bedrock of walking on these shards of broken dreams. You can’t get too caught up in the negative voices and broken mirrors. It’s going to come up. You are going to look. You will feel it. But eventually, you have to do something for yourself to keep going. That is what your loved ones who may be gone would want you to do, too. But you also do it for yourself. After all the fight and strife, you deserve it. I stick to faith, hope, and love. Do what you have to do to keep those 3 things alive in your life. Nothing else matters; it will evaporate as quick as cotton candy. But faith, hope, and love are forever.