Notes from the Red Bird House

I'm in a state of flux. Spiritual flux. I imagine that when I came out as a Christian everyone let out a big sigh of relief. Oh, thank God! She's done with all that seeking. Yeah, not to so much. Christianity was never going to be the be-all-end-all for me. I picked and chose from the doctrines and dogma and knew that I'd never be able to accept the big ones - Salvation and it's fraternal twin, Resurrection, at least not in the literal sense. So here we are two years later and I'm still seeking a better way to understand my relationship to God and the Universe. Yes, I said it. The Universe. I'm back to that. My first blog EVER back in 2006 was about The Universe. Everything eventually comes full circle, if you just let it be. Which I did. And here we are. Do I still believe in God? Yes. Do I still believe in Jesus (Why does this question always sound frighteningly similar to 'Do you believe in Santa Claus?'?)? Yes. It's just that those ideas are fl

I've discovered something that, at least for the immediate future, holds my attention and allows me a non-multitasking laziness. I'd been hoping I'd find something for quite sometime. Traditionally I don't relax or do laziness very well at all. Take right now - I'm watching basketball, eating dinner, and writing this. It's rare to have anything that stops me from doing several things at once. What can I say, my brain bores easily. So what is it that has enraptured me so epically that I can do it and nothing else? A project for school? No. Tennis? Nope. Remember the Tennis Channel is history (and besides I always multi-tasked while watching even the best matches). A book? Hell, no. I may be reading more than I've read in years, but I still hate it.  A woman? Geez. Alright, yes. It's a woman. Vicariously so. Right on. But there has to be more to it than that. I've multi-tasked my way through Ashley Judd movies and Sam Stosur tennis matches. Oh my God

I usually enjoy being different. I think it's an acquired taste because I can't remember if I've always been this way. Oh, I've always been different. It's the enjoyment I'm not sure about. Being a different kid is rough. Being a different adult is easier because things are easier to hide. Until they aren't. Then there are questions to answer, answers that apparently don't answer, and finally awkward silence. Tonight I'm tired - tired of thinking I need to prove a point, tired of fighting, tired of carrying the weight of different, tired of being the minority. You know, I never ask anyone to take my side. I never hope to change anyone's mind (though a slight opening is always nice). I never tell anyone that their thoughts, beliefs, or feelings are wrong or invalid. I just say my piece and hope whomever's listening 'gets me' on a certain level. I'm not asking for agreement or understanding. I simply want an admission that it

I wonder if I'm different from most people. I have joy and I don't see much in other people. I know some have it worse than me; God knows some have it way worse than me. But still... Some have it at least as good or better. And by that I mean financial security, a hot girlfriend, a car manufactured in this decade. I'm reasonably secure, financially (though it often seems to take surgical precision) and emotionally. I do, however, lack the girlfriend and the car (the former probably contributes to my emotional stability and the latter my financial). And yet... I have joy. Lots of it. There's drudgery - work shifts, workouts, and reading assignments that seem endless (not to mention boring), writer's block with due dates rapidly approaching, forehands that go horribly awry again and again, bills to pay, groceries to buy, laundry to do,  and so on and so on. However, even with all that, I have joy. It may not be giddy excitement mingled with a fiery, all-consuming pa

People say I'd be better off not wearing it. That a ring on that finger means something I don't want it to mean. I say it means exactly what I want it to mean. I love her. Maybe not the way most would assume considering I wear her ring on that finger. Ok, not 'her' ring. I wear a ring she gave me.  That may not make it seem any better, but I miss her so I wear it every day. On the ring finger of my left hand. Regardless of how it may look. And who it may scare off. At the moment, I'm single and not looking. Adamantly. Both. Still though...occasionally I think a diversion would be pretty cool. The ring, however (I'm determined that it's the ring and not me), gets in the way. Or so people say (and I like to believe them). Yet, the ring stays. And always will. I guess as I say that it begs a question. What if one day I'm not adamantly single and not looking? What if one day I find a woman? What if one day she gives me a ring? A ring that means what a