Second Sunday of Christmas
The morning began with the last leg of a four day RC workshop. The whole workshop was carved out specifically for gay men and it was a lot of fun letting that side of me just flourish. It's an annual workshop where the playful side of being human almost overwhelms the serious, political - even geopolitical - tone of some of the lectures.
I had to do a lot of scrambling in order to get out of bed by 6:30 and down to the lecture site in time for a "Counsel the Leader" session by 7:am. I showered and threw on the first handful of clothes I could grab from the top of my dresser. I didn't even take time to tie the laces to my sneakers which I wore with no socks - not even those ankle height thingies.
Basically, after a lot of Q&A from the gathered (no one was allowed to come in after 7:00) "David Nijinski" proceeded to counsel himself with only the merest interference from my old friend Steve Roamer at his side.
I literally had not seen Steve in just about twenty-five years when someone introduced him to me on the first day of the workshop. I had imagined what he might look like after all these years, but, all the imagining in the world was of no help. If I hadn't said, "I give up.", I would have walked around for at least another day before it finally dawned on me who he was - and, perhaps not even then. Steve had gone from a slim, male ballet dancer (when I knew him) to becoming a med student, a doctor and now, a grand old man of co-counseling, all in those amazingly short years.
And, it wasn't that he was so physically different. Sure, he had put on about thirty pounds and his hair had turned nearly completely gray. Yet, he still comported himself with a certain grace and delicacy. Years of constant speaking with patients and professional colleagues had whittled away at his natural shyness. But, there was still a touch of boyishness in his eyes.
In other words, it wasn't so much the physical attributes of older age that caught me off guard as much as the prejudices and assumptions I still carry about old people: I still find it impossible to imagine what they were like when they were young.
There was a twenty-four hour interval when the workshop was given over to the visiting International Reference Person, Tim Jackins. That was a huge honor. The history between the LGBTQ community and international headquarters has been a rocky one, at best, over the space of the last thirty-five years and Tim's appearance seemed designed to make some amends and to build some bridges. What was even more fascinating was that Tim seemed to be enjoying himself. No adult loves playing more than Tim (even at age 70) and no constituency plays more than a bunch of gay guys. I'm not usually great at joining in silly activities, but, once Tim gave them his imprimatur, even I was drawn into them.
So, Tim's participation and talks (in between the playing) were one highlight. The other was talking about sex.
"David Nijinski", who was really the leader of record for the weekend, had us assigned to a "sex buddy" for the purposes of several sessions. The ostensible purpose was for each to tell the other their most embarrassing secrets around sex, the stuff we never get a chance to expose to anyone else. While most people reported back how excruciating it was, I think I was just about the only who said, they thought they were "having way too good a time" doing it. that brought a big laugh from the gathered. I attribute it to all the practice I've had in writing this blog.
In fact, my buddy and I have agreed to continue having sessions even after the workshop. He was one of the few men at the workshop in a committed hetero relationship and wants to call me once a week on Friday, around 5:30 in the morning because that's when he and his wife (who is also in RC) usually have sex.
This is a match made in Heaven simply because what could be more safe than talking about sex with someone who isn't going to be constantly comparing notes with you?
The ride home was crunched and awkward as usual, maybe a little more so than usual because I'd just spent four days straight in the same small group as two of the passengers.
Got back to Brooklyn around 4:00 with just enough time to glance at a couple of football scores and shave my gray, Pablo-like beard. It had stood me in good stead over the course of the previous four days, marking me as an "Elder" in the community. It made it much easier to reconnect with Steve and Tim, for example. But, now it was time to reenter the arena of St. Michael's with its own specific rules and its own time warp.
I had to do a lot of scrambling in order to get out of bed by 6:30 and down to the lecture site in time for a "Counsel the Leader" session by 7:am. I showered and threw on the first handful of clothes I could grab from the top of my dresser. I didn't even take time to tie the laces to my sneakers which I wore with no socks - not even those ankle height thingies.
Basically, after a lot of Q&A from the gathered (no one was allowed to come in after 7:00) "David Nijinski" proceeded to counsel himself with only the merest interference from my old friend Steve Roamer at his side.
I literally had not seen Steve in just about twenty-five years when someone introduced him to me on the first day of the workshop. I had imagined what he might look like after all these years, but, all the imagining in the world was of no help. If I hadn't said, "I give up.", I would have walked around for at least another day before it finally dawned on me who he was - and, perhaps not even then. Steve had gone from a slim, male ballet dancer (when I knew him) to becoming a med student, a doctor and now, a grand old man of co-counseling, all in those amazingly short years.
And, it wasn't that he was so physically different. Sure, he had put on about thirty pounds and his hair had turned nearly completely gray. Yet, he still comported himself with a certain grace and delicacy. Years of constant speaking with patients and professional colleagues had whittled away at his natural shyness. But, there was still a touch of boyishness in his eyes.
In other words, it wasn't so much the physical attributes of older age that caught me off guard as much as the prejudices and assumptions I still carry about old people: I still find it impossible to imagine what they were like when they were young.
There was a twenty-four hour interval when the workshop was given over to the visiting International Reference Person, Tim Jackins. That was a huge honor. The history between the LGBTQ community and international headquarters has been a rocky one, at best, over the space of the last thirty-five years and Tim's appearance seemed designed to make some amends and to build some bridges. What was even more fascinating was that Tim seemed to be enjoying himself. No adult loves playing more than Tim (even at age 70) and no constituency plays more than a bunch of gay guys. I'm not usually great at joining in silly activities, but, once Tim gave them his imprimatur, even I was drawn into them.
So, Tim's participation and talks (in between the playing) were one highlight. The other was talking about sex.
"David Nijinski", who was really the leader of record for the weekend, had us assigned to a "sex buddy" for the purposes of several sessions. The ostensible purpose was for each to tell the other their most embarrassing secrets around sex, the stuff we never get a chance to expose to anyone else. While most people reported back how excruciating it was, I think I was just about the only who said, they thought they were "having way too good a time" doing it. that brought a big laugh from the gathered. I attribute it to all the practice I've had in writing this blog.
In fact, my buddy and I have agreed to continue having sessions even after the workshop. He was one of the few men at the workshop in a committed hetero relationship and wants to call me once a week on Friday, around 5:30 in the morning because that's when he and his wife (who is also in RC) usually have sex.
This is a match made in Heaven simply because what could be more safe than talking about sex with someone who isn't going to be constantly comparing notes with you?
The ride home was crunched and awkward as usual, maybe a little more so than usual because I'd just spent four days straight in the same small group as two of the passengers.
Got back to Brooklyn around 4:00 with just enough time to glance at a couple of football scores and shave my gray, Pablo-like beard. It had stood me in good stead over the course of the previous four days, marking me as an "Elder" in the community. It made it much easier to reconnect with Steve and Tim, for example. But, now it was time to reenter the arena of St. Michael's with its own specific rules and its own time warp.