Today, my thoughts are on people’s passions in life. I feel like I have lost mine to the point that I can’t even explain why some things were passions to me in life at one time bit are not now. I read so many blogs and there are a lot of people that write about their passions – hiking, crochet, sex, God, camping, dance, photography, Jesus, beauty, fashion, climbing, poetry, family, movies, books, etc. These people are all so full of life, so full of joy, so fulfilled, so…passionate. And, I’m always amazed by those that are passionate about God or Jesus.
I can’t seem to find that. I can’t find that one thing that keeps me connected to life. Having gone to Alcoholic Anonymous meetings and have often heard that you can fake it until you make it, I grasp the idea of putting things into practice. I’m not that kind of person though…in fact, I despise fakeness. I can’t pretend to like or appreciate things and I believe that I can’t embrace anything I don’t feel in my soul.
It’s no secret that one of my biggest struggles is my sexuality and my gender identity. I ponder if I can have a relationship with God or Jesus being who I am. Or am I avoiding some sense of spiritual responsibility by focusing on something that seems inherently at odds with mainstream religious faith systems? I can’t ignore the very principle behind genetics and sexuality, as well as the ideas that gender stereotypes are engrained from our human psyche. Is there a possibility that God made a mistake and made me a woman with a man’s body? Or am I twisting my human understanding of sex and gender to serve some selfish desire that is counter to “God’s plan”?
I tend to accept this struggle within myself as natural to who I am. Because this particular struggle is a part of who I am, I never set down a path of radical change in me life. My thinking and values are typically conservative by nature and I used to believe that I had to behave in ways that promoted a greater purpose to others, but I have lost that mentality. It’s a similar aspect of myself that I have discovered within the confines of my soon to be ended marriage – forgetting to care for my own needs because I spent my efforts on others.
I certainly don’t want to sound like a victim, because I take full responsibility for my own actions and decisions. But I have always struggled with the idea of doing what’s right versus doing what I want. I remember, growing up, my dad used to advise that any decision made that does not hurt someone, is not illegal, and does not conflict with morality is a good decision. Legality, however, is dictated by public opinion, therefore it is always subject to change. Morality has been a matter of debate for the entirety of human history, and subject to predominant powers at hand. Hurting others? That is the most fickle issue, isn’t it? Some people are hurt by the wind and others are so resistant to pain the appear hard as rocks.
I know how many would react, if I asked the question, “Would God hate me, if I did…?” The “did” is always an issue of morality, legality and hurting others. It’s the question I can never answer; regardless, it has become my passion – the search to define myself.
(EDIT: I just read through this and realized how convoluted my thoughts were when writing this. I am not going to edit it, regardless of it’s lack of linear thought- it’s merely how my thoughts can out of me while writing.)