I will open this post by writing about the Boxing Day open house I attended yesterday. This was in the home of a friend of mine who has been welcoming folks into her home every Boxing Day for at least six years(?) I always enjoy and appreciate these get-togethers since I often have nowhere to go Christmas and even though the open house occurs the day after the big day, well, half a loaf is better than none. I will call my friend, whom I am not going to name here, la Bella-Luz (if you don't understand Spanish then please ask Uncle Google).
This year there was a little awkwardness. There were two guests present with whom I do not get on. This isn't to suggest that I would even think of asking la Bella-Luz to not be friends with people whom I do not like, nor to refrain from inviting them. Actually I am glad they were both there, if anything, to disempower the rage and anger I have harboured towards them. I was hurt by both of these individuals in church, an Anglican parish they still attend. Both at different times have treated me basically like garbage. Neither have been interested in reconciling. Since there is a Biblical expectation that those of us who partake of Holy Communion should be at peace and in communion with one another, and neither of these women have seen fit to reconcile with me, I have had to leave this church. I could not live with the perpetuating hypocrisy of disgracing the Body of Christ by partaking with people with whom I am in disaccord. I know, this is the Anglican Church and Anglicans are generally too cowardly, too self-centred, and too indifferent towards real Christian discipleship to really want to care a shit. Well, I care a shit and if it means that I have to stop caring about having good relationships with others in order to cope in an Anglican parish then I will simply think of some other way of occupying my Sundays. In fact, I have already done this and feel none the worse for wear for it.
So, the fat chubby politically correct Green Goddess basically sat in a corner and made every possible effort to avoid contact with me. She did greet me on her way in with a phony little smile and a forced cheery hello. I simply responded with a toneless poker face hello and proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the evening. Then came la Estrella Nueva Yorquena. We didn't even give each other the time of day as she basked in the limelight of her own fertile imagination. Only on her way out did she acknowledge me with a hasty good bye. I just said good bye.
I know that whatever hobbled me about both these women was somehow disempowered for me last night. I might visit their church again. I am not shaking their hands during the peace, since that would still be an act of hypocrisy. In fact, if I attend church there again, I am not shaking hands with anyone. I might not even go forward to receive communion, since I don't feel a huge need for it. For me it's all the same.
I brought with me to the tertulia of la Bella-Luz my two friends from Mexico and Spain, who have just immigrated to Canada. I am very glad they got to meet some more Canadians and I do hope that eventually this visit will help them build a social network in Vancouver.
Also present was an elderly lady I have known for many years. She is in her eighties now and frail. It amazes me how she has come over the years to shine with the kind and loving light of Christ. We spent a good part of the visit chatting together. I don't know how much longer she will be with us and I hope I can get around to see her sometimes. She was for several years a neighbour of Doreen with whom I was in intentional community for several years. Doreen has been dead for almost six years now and the lady is still living in a self-contained apartment in the mansion next door to Snooty Church, or, St. James. Many years ago I gave them one of my paintings for their common room, a landscape on which the lady still comments kindly.
Also present was Bella-Luz' mother, quite elderly and very sweet and nice to talk to. The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.
There was also Bella-Luz' boyfriend, whom I shall call el Guerrero de la Cruz. El Guerrero is studying for the Anglican priesthood. Together, they both make for me very treasured and valued friends.
There was another friend who is from a South American country. He is a lovely person, very kind and highly opinionated and often laments about the political and social conditions of his country of origin. He was lots of fun yesterday and really worked at helping everyone feel welcome and part of the party. I don't necessarily agree or disagree with him about his country of origin. Simply I don't know enough about the situation to be able to form an opinion. Or, as I mentioned later after he and his partner left with the lady, "Opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one."
I did mention later to a co-worker of la Bella-Luz that I'm kind of done with opinions. It doesn't mean that I don't have any. I think that I'm becoming a little more flexible. I still take certain positions that remain unchanged and unchanging but I am less inclined to expect that others have to agree with them or that I have the corner on truth. This I think is why I'm done with online debates, especially with strangers. If we can only know one another by our opinions then really what's the point? I would prefer to have these conversations in the same room with other flesh and blood human beings and I really hope that I can shut up long enough to actually learn something. On the other hand I have to admit that I feel somewhat fatigued from saying things that no one is going to listen to and I would simply rather live out my truth as faithfully as possible. I think this might be what I mean when I said to la Bella-Luz' co-worker, whom I think isn't even forty yet, a married father of one or two young children, "the need to express and debate opinions is something that some of us end up ripening out of (a bit different from "growing out of" I think) doesn't mean that he or anyone else shouldn't and I hope they can really enjoy this stage of life for as long as it will need to last for them because I think it's a necessary step towards the wisdom of age (waiting for me somewhere in a golden glow somewhere at the end of the tunnel).
The party got quite crowded and lively and noisy for a while. I don't really do well in this kind of environment though it really cannot be helped. I noticed that for quite a while I was the only person with no one to talk to. This often occurs when I am in noisy and chaotic social situations. I used to blame it on others, for being too snobby to want to give me the time of day. Then I blamed myself for being unfriendly and remote. I think I understand the dynamic a little better now. I don't speak with a loud voice and often people in noisy situations have trouble hearing me. I also don't enjoy raising my voice because it can make me sound and feel angry, upset or threatening. I also become a bit paralyzed, feeling suddenly isolated and unable to reach out. I am finding that the best cure to this is to try to find a conversation to listen in on and eventually participate in. But it is even more helpful if there is anyone looking around the room to see if there is someone like me who needs to be rescued.
People left and eventually we were down to a little more than a half dozen souls along with the friendly and very curious cat of la Bella-Luz. We were all talking together, gently and respectfully. Everyone seemed to feel included. The way I like it.
Today I woke up feeling that I would like to see people but knowing that I am not able. I am simply too worn out from the socializing and work of the last couple of days. This is why I am neither married nor live with a partner. The thought of having another body there, all the time, sharing the same bed and bedroom, regardless the benefits, for me is a most horrifying notion, a prison, a kind of emotional slavery with no escape for treasured and valued alone time. Voice of experience by the way just in case you happen to be muttering "Sour Grapes." Given my grumpy short temper this morning I knew for a fact that it will be much better for me and the human race should I spend this day alone.
I listened this morning on the CBC to fascinating programs: one about the experience of recent immigrants here from Hong Kong and Mainland China. I am especially intrigued by the idea that it isn't simply the rich Chinese buying houses here that are to blame for our skyrocketing housing costs. It is also the greedy house owners who are so obsessed with getting wealthy off their equity that they will sell only to the highest bidder. I also listened to an interview with Jim Wallace, the founder and leader of the Sojourners community, an activist social justice Christian community in Washington DC. He was speaking of his concern that there is plenty of wealth to go around but it isn't being shared equally, and that the economy is there to serve people and not to enslave us. I strongly agree with him (I count Jim Wallace and Sojourners among the most significant mentors to me during my twenties). I only wish that he and others would take it a step further and say that the economy isn't simply there to serve us, but that we are the economy. The economy needs to be thoroughly humanized and our understanding has to be totally revolutionized if it is going to really work for the common good and the common interest. I did some work on a painting and emailed back and forth with my Venezuelan friend as we were cobbling together some ideas for helping her learn English. She is also giving me invaluable support for my Spanish,
Midday I took the bus to Shaughnessy Heights were I spent two hours walking in the rain along the twisting winding streets flanked by beautiful mansions and trees and incredibly peace and quiet. Then I stopped in a coffee shop on Granville to work on a drawing where I ran into a couple of clients of one of the mental health teams where I work. We had a pleasant little chat and I realized as well that it is still a bit of a challenge for me to converse with my clients should I run into them on my day off. In a way it does have me feeling perpetually on duty, just like last night when my friends from Mexico and I had just left my apartment building. A tenant from my building, a very mentally ill man was standing on the corner ahead of us screaming incoherently. My friends paused for some reason and I went on ahead to talk to my neighbour. I asked him how he was. He didn't look at or answer me but he went quiet and for a while stayed quiet. I only hope that I was able to somehow penetrate his loneliness. But you know Gentle Reader, being kind and being a good neighbour should not be professional duties. They are part of the stuff and substance that make us human and that help make our existence on earth tolerable. If I feel on duty seven days a week I'm sure it isn't going to kill me. It also makes getting away to another country every year for a month all the sweeter where I can unwind and basically live on another wavelength. But I also take care to not forget kindness if only to keep me open, if only to keep me human....
By the way Gentle Reader please pass this post on. If each of you can think of five others to whom this writing would be interesting then please pass it on to them. Don't worry, this is not a chain letter, but if I can play a role in getting people to think and explore then so much the better and your help is invaluable.
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