The Fall of Adam Men Alive! I felt raw, as my bare feet touched the trampoline bed – exposed to myself and fumbling to cover, well, I didn’t know what anymore. “Damn!” I gasped. Up, I bounced – down, I fell – in my best friend’s backyard while his family was out-of-state at the Southern read more..
I felt raw, as my bare feet touched the trampoline bed – exposed to myself and fumbling to cover, well, I didn’t know what anymore. “Damn!” I gasped. Up, I bounced – down, I fell – in my best friend’s backyard while his family was out-of-state at the Southern Baptist Convention. “Holy shit!” I grasped to collapse the division of the sacred and profane. The unfamiliar sexual from the too-familiar puritanical just weeks after having come out. I had never uttered that word combination before. I braced myself. “Jesus fucking Christ!” I collapsed on my ass, unreliably rebounding, angry and confused and elated as I allowed myself to inhale that familiar Northern Michigan air and exhale extraordinary frustrations. I was 17. I was innocent and dizzy and afraid in this cathartically indignant, exploratory moment.
My very understanding of how one operates in an unsuspectingly boundless universe had been destroyed in the blink of an eye, and I felt expelled toward a much broader, rousing, and scarier way of going about defining myself without the blinders and the limits. One by one, I lost my Evangelical cohorts, yet I was far from alone in the world. The food my parents had placed on the table was a memory as I snuck in the kitchen where I worked and stole what I couldn’t quite afford. Open-minded folks would back my growth, and the exhilaration of the illusion of paving my own way out of the old enclosure would offset the urge to lament. While I deeply experienced the profound loss of almost all that I had known, I could almost taste an enormous gain.
Having been reared fiercely fundamentalist, I went from fearing the fire and brimstone of the Goddamned to feeling the fieriness of being gobsmacked by the wonder-filled prospect of an ungraspable free-fall into blissful uncertainty. I discovered the ability – and made the decision – to sexually evolve and spiritually expand past the confines of what I’d been fearfully handed down – and give into a wonderfully realized reality. I was leaving what I thought were the boundaries of the garden for the lushness of lands that lay beyond.
While it’s safe to assert that the genesis of my adulthood was the revelation that God and Self are so much bigger than man-in-sky and dust-to-dust, this next chapter – and this blogging enterprise – is another death of an identity: whatever it was that was. This is a dissolving of borders in an effort to further wrap myself up in the rapture of that age-old, possibility-laden “new era.”
It’s been said that the fruit takes a good while to ripen, but when it falls – it does so suddenly. Man! Companion after companion, I recapture my own craving for knowledge, and the kind of know-how that lends itself to a set-free wisdom – that taking a bit of this and a tad of that while turning the imperfection of pure creation inward. And, inevitably (as in the case of “Man Alive!”), correcting course along the way and letting the whole blessed life I’m living be fabulously first draft. Partly informed by handed down beliefs and books – why not? – yet gloriously enlightened by the mind-bending and soul-mending of an existence that outcries for expansive description.
Leafless and shameless, we can recognize what a cock blockage we can be to God and Self to think that Eden ever fell off the edge of an earth-bound All That Was. What hell it is to bear the little space we inhabit in any given moment as the entirety of heaven and earth itself.
Whether it’s seeing your sexuality as diametrically opposed to a sense of spirituality, or your humanness as separate from the divine, I say succumb to the serpent. Sample the socially forbidden, and strive for awareness of life’s ambiguities. Emerge from the garden out of your own free will!
Here I am. There you are. Knowingly naked. Decidedly unashamed. Fictitiously fallen. Fantastically falling… Breathing out a gleeful “Oh, my GOD!” as we heave and ho – so, so much – in this given impassioned moment.
PS – I have decided to push out a new letter, not so dissimilar to this one, every other week for the remainder of 2014 to sort of make sense of much of my current life (which feels as flowery as it does dense – with a certain wonderment colliding with contestations with intense truths). As 2015 rolls around, what can I rein this in with to benefit you? Are you more inclined to read about how to better embrace uncertainty and face fear or are you preoccupied with penis size? Do you want to hear salacious details of my extensive travels more or get an insider’s peak into the themes I encounter with my vocation? Don’t hold back. Reach out anytime.
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