Kindness

Kindness.  As a spiritual person, I want to embrace this in my life and share it with others.  And I have a person who I know needs it.  Dad.  Yes, I get that I wrote about him yesterday and how much he is frustrating me at the moment.  For the longest time in my life I have felt like so much about him is a “lost cause”.  Not that he has been helpless, but I acknowledge that I don’t have what he needs ultimately.  I’m not even really sure what that is.  I couldn’t say that all he needs is a relationship with God, because I am not sure exactly what God would do for him.  He is an atheist and seems very afraid of all of that.  He surrounds himself with prickly ways, and it’s difficult to get close to him.  I wonder who is beyond all those facades though.

The question is how do embrace kindness into my life.  Colossians suggests that I should clothe myself in kindness, which is kind of ironic, because it is my clothing and my outward appearance that I feel I have to hide from dad.  I have hid who I am internally from him for years.  When I first arrived back in Australia in 1989, he told me that he didn’t want to see any evidence of my Christianity around the house which I get is fair enough.  It’s difficult and challenging to share with him though when he is so anti spiritual.  And he can’t be told.  He is not ever in a position of needing to learn, or of being a learner.  Not in ways like that.  It’s like he has it in his mind that he should be teaching me.  I guess what I would like from him is a relationship of equality.

I need to overcome my fear of being vulnerable with him.  I am not sure what that would take though.  God, I am lost in this.  Do you have a way for me to move in this? 

My Dad

I don't really know what to say.  I feel quite frustrated at the moment, and wonder if this is a good time to record my thoughts as it were.  I'm frustrated because I am sitting in my lounge room and my dad is sitting across from me.  What's frustrating about that?  He fails to get me.  I don't know if it is that he doesn't want to get me or just can't get me.  I really don't know.  I am assuming it it that he doesn't want to get me.  Otherwise he would be trying.  He would surely be showing signs of trying.  Or at the very least ask me.  Ask for help.  I go out of my way for him to get this slowly, but it's like he doesn't want to get it.  So what do I do?  I don't really know.

I don't seem to have much in common with this person.  And it's not like I wish I did, because I don't.  Not really.  He has been generous with me in the past.  And I should remember that.  But does all of that get undone when someone fails to accept who you really are when you tell them who you really are?

I am going to spend some time in the next few days to figure out what it is about him that really annoys me.  Is there some thing that I am not dealing with here?  I have told him what I am ... where I am coming from.  I just don't get that he doesn't get this.  He shows no signs of getting this.

The Next Stage

I started Life Coaching yesterday with Anthony Venn Brown.  I am already amazed at the changes that i have experienced.  I guess to be honest, I wasn't sure how it would work, or how I would go.  I know that it's early days, but I am excited.

There has been a restructure at work.  It's still working its way out at the moment.  I am to move into the "Consume" space, which essentially means I will be dealing with production issues.  Interestingly enough I have spent a lot of time in my career working in implementation teams.  It will be interesting to see work from this point of view.  I'm not sure how I feel about it to be honest.  I guess I will wait and see.  I have been at RACQ now for over 3 years which makes this the longest I have been at one work place.

Life goes on.  Sometimes I wish there was some way of stopping for a moment.  Kaylee decided to leave us.  She took her own life on November 20th Australian time.  I can understand why she did it, though it's sad.  I just don't understand it.  I have shed tears for her.  But it doesn't seem enough some how.  And I didn't even know her.  Not really.  And yet I think I did.  Her journey and outlook seemed similar to mine.  And so did some of her experiences.  We shared commonalities.  So I did know her.  May she rest in peace.

When Waiting is Good

So, it's a Monday.  It's 13 days after my surgery, and it's the day I have my final followup consultation with my surgeon, Dr Andrew Ives.  It's been a big journey.  I always knew it would be.  But it's been bigger than I had expected.  And it's taken me way beyond myself in many ways.  And that's not a bad thing.

It's taken me decades to get to this point of where I am at.  And I am, by no means, arrived.  I have more of this journey ahead of me.  I mean, for me, that's life.  Life is the journey.  That's what I believe.  But there has been so much waiting.  There has been so much time in my life that has seemingly been wasted.

Could I have done this earlier?  Yes, undoubtedly.  Could I have saved myself and people around me the pain of doing this when I did?  Possibly.  This is all true.

But now is my appointed time.  I know that and can feel that.  It's palpable.  I don't question the timing of this.  I mourn things that I will never have, milestones that aren't mine, but I no longer question this timing.  The timing of my transition, of my surgery, of my recovery, and this part of the journey are perfect.  Not gonna change anything, or wish that I could!

Waiting is not a bad thing.  I am driven to make the most of my time and to be productive.  It eats away at me when I am forced to wait.  But waiting is good.  It has been very good to me.

My best advice is to find peace with your journey whatever it may be.

Three Weeks Tomorrow

Three weeks tomorrow.  How that does feel?  Surprisingly, it feels very peaceful.  I think I am ready for this.  I don't mean to "wish away" the next three weeks either, I will be happy to stay seated for the entire "ride".

In November of last year, Leigh Neighbour who is the minister of Metropolitan Community Church in Brisbane asked me to speak about Transgender Day of Remembrance.  I remember speaking about what it's like to be transgender, and how that feels, and the struggles that we face, and the dangers as well.  After all, that's what it's about.  It's about remembering those who have not survived this journey for whatever reason.  Tragically there are those who are taken from us violently.  Murdered just for being themselves.  And then there are those that we lose because this journey is too difficult.  And truly there is no judgement there.  There but for the grace of God.

Yesterday, though, was different.  Someone I know through the internet, a friend, posted their "final video" on youtube.  At first I wasn't sure what they meant.  I thought that perhaps this person was just stopping their channel.  And that would have been tragic in itself.  But this friend meant differently.  My heart immediately broke and my blood ran cold.  I was stunned.  I saw her post a mere 15 minutes after she posted.

We do live in a community.  And we are affected by each other.  We each have our own significance and weight in each others lives.  The internet brings us together in ways that are mind blowing, and yet it can also still leave us isolated geographically.  Sometimes it's not enough to use words, we want to be "there" for a person.  And yet we can't.  We have to sit and wait, powerless to do anything.  And that's hard.

I hope this girl will be okay.  She didn't end up taking her own life, but I believe her when she said that it was her intention to.  I hope that she can find something to hold on to in this world.  I guess I say that selfishly too.  I want her to stay because I appreciate who she is.  I would never judge her though if she wanted to go home.  I would just be incredibly sad and again reminded of how difficult this journey is.

All that said, I wouldn't trade anything for being a part of this community.  To quote a wise man, "I love my tribe".  I love who I am.  I love this community.

My Identification with the Female

Okay so this is what I have been thinking about.  And I'm trying to figure out why this has come to the forefront of my consciousness.

Here is the question that I have been mulling over:  Is my identification with "the female" more about an emotional connection or a physical connection?  And when I say "the female", if it's not obvious what I mean is everything in me that resonates and relates to being female.

I am sure ultimately it's both, and possibly even spiritual as well.  But is one connection stronger than the other?  At first contemplation I would have to say it's definitely emotional.  I mean I feel significantly emotionally connected to being female.  It means a lot to me to have those kind of relationships that are typically more female.  I love the kind of communication styles of women when they are relating to other women, especially close friends.  And I love being a part of that.  I find fulfilment in my relationships when I am perceived as a woman, as female.

But there is a physical aspect as well.  I know physically I want to look female.  But I think perhaps that desire to look female is more about achieving that sense of emotional connection.  It's significantly harder to convince people you are a woman on the inside if you don't look that way externally.  When I wasn't dressed as Cindy in the early days, I had difficulty believing i was female internally and emotionally.  Looking back I know that I was, but when I didn't see it in my own reflection I couldn't bring that expectation to other people to see me that way.

So perhaps my physical identification with being a woman is more about achieving that emotional identification with myself and those around me.  It's important for me to be seen and perceived and reflected as female.

There are other aspects of physical identification that are significant for me.  One of them involves the surgery that is coming up.  I mean if it wasn't important I wouldn't be subjecting myself to that, but I am.  It is important to me.  And interestingly I won't be seen by many at that degree as female.  There of course will be my lovely amazing wife Giselle, and perhaps a doctor or two.  But ultimately it will be a physical marker that will be righted that very few will appreciate or see.  But it's still important to me.  It's important because I want that emotional connection.

I'm thinking about this now because I am facing the surgery which has brought the idea of that physical identification onto my radar as it were.

So that's just what I have been thinking about ...

For Posterity

Just some thoughts that were gnawing at my brain last week ... I was going to delete it, but what the hell, it's my journal.  This is my life.  

Do you know what I hate?  I hate that I’m a nice person.  I hate that it has taken me decades to find my voice.  I hate that I too quickly put myself out for the sake of other people, when they don’t even know that I’m doing it.  And that’s not their fault.  That’s mine.  It’s not about them … it’s about me.  How could they know if I never tell them.  And I’m not a martyr either.  And I hate that this has been a part of who I am as long as I can remember.  So when faced with “keeping people happy” over “I think I might have a problem” I default to keeping the people around me happy.  That’s my problem. 

I hate sticking out.  I hate being different.  That is one of my fundamental fears.  And yet here I am.  I stick out. 

I think it is profoundly more disappointing to be so close to your goal, and yet come to the realisation that you will never quite reach it, than being hundreds or possibly thousands of miles from your goal and never knowing the pain of that journey.

“They lead me to water, but they won’t let me drink” – Chariots of Fire (Harold Abrams)

If I had a choice, I would NOT have travelled this journey.  I think primarily because there is no “pot of gold” here.  There is the general vicinity of “the end of the rainbow”, but that’s it.  If you get too close, it moves away. 

And I am not sure I want to be “this person”.  I wonder if this is me.  I mean, I don’t like sticking out, I love my comfort zone, and don’t like moving outside it, and yet this condition has forced my hand.  I am forced to move out of what I know.  And I don’t want to be forced to do something like this. 

This isn’t like shooting for the moon, or running in a race.  This is a fight for survival.  And yet in my running, in my travelling to the moon, I know it’s not mine to have.  I know I won’t come first.  There will be no medal at the end of this, not like other people run for.  There is only survival.  That’s it.  And I can’t say necessarily that I have it within me to want to survive this.  Decades of this.  I don’t think that I do. 

Can you blame someone for wanting to give up?