Frenetic Pseuso-Crisis of Conscience or Revisiting my Gratitude Problem
A dear and trusted friend of mine went to the Chicago Pride Parade. We saw a few people who I think are infinitely deserving of my respect and gratitude. They are well aged, brave men and women who at one point in time served in the military. They may have been sailors, airmen, soldiers of varying capacities. They are also queer. They may or may not be in committed long term relationships with partners who they may or may not have met in the service. They paid their dues. They volunteered to put themselves in harms way so that we can have some of the freedoms we enjoy. I thanked as many of these individuals who identified themselves via a shirt which was a simple navy blue color with the word "veteran" written across their chest. The 'V' replaced with a pink triangle. After thanking one veteran, my friend suggested I should acquire such a T-shirt.
Buddhist and/or punk mentality dictates that you hold no one in higher regard, or lower regard than you. However, years of indoctrination and due recognition of varying accomplishments, I hold these individuals in fairly high regard, and also classify them as an "other" as in not someone like myself. However the criteria by which I classify them as worthy of my respect and gratitude, I also qualify. They were in the military, and are veterans. I was in the military and am a veteran of. They are Queer. I am Queer.
At my friend's recommendation, I declined. I don't know that I can deal with that degree of attention. Even though I meet the same criteria which I am grateful to these individuals for, I cannot impose myself, consciously and forthrightly, in such a position. This is what I call my gratitude problem. My friend told me I am totally deserving of the recognition. I don't have any particularly strong grounds on which to argue against her. While I think it would be totally cool to have a Queer veteran T-shirt (consumerist desires are strong on that particular item), I don't know that I can adequately deal with the attention. The people I care for have acknowledged my service in the military and that is sufficient for me. In fact I thank them for their patience, prayers, good-vibes, and support while I was in the service. I put them through an emotional hell.
Simply contemplating the issue provokes a degree of anxiety which shakes my composure to its foundation. I'll be frank. I have had to pause a few times in writing this because tears well up. I am not deserving of the recognition.
Buddhist and/or punk mentality dictates that you hold no one in higher regard, or lower regard than you. However, years of indoctrination and due recognition of varying accomplishments, I hold these individuals in fairly high regard, and also classify them as an "other" as in not someone like myself. However the criteria by which I classify them as worthy of my respect and gratitude, I also qualify. They were in the military, and are veterans. I was in the military and am a veteran of. They are Queer. I am Queer.
At my friend's recommendation, I declined. I don't know that I can deal with that degree of attention. Even though I meet the same criteria which I am grateful to these individuals for, I cannot impose myself, consciously and forthrightly, in such a position. This is what I call my gratitude problem. My friend told me I am totally deserving of the recognition. I don't have any particularly strong grounds on which to argue against her. While I think it would be totally cool to have a Queer veteran T-shirt (consumerist desires are strong on that particular item), I don't know that I can adequately deal with the attention. The people I care for have acknowledged my service in the military and that is sufficient for me. In fact I thank them for their patience, prayers, good-vibes, and support while I was in the service. I put them through an emotional hell.
Simply contemplating the issue provokes a degree of anxiety which shakes my composure to its foundation. I'll be frank. I have had to pause a few times in writing this because tears well up. I am not deserving of the recognition.