so, forward and bravely

I've long called Synecdoche, New York
my soul movie
there is this scene at the end 
a simple, tiny moment in a movie of
cacophonous, big, absurd and truthful explosions
our hero sits, deteriorating in a deteriorating world,
on a toilet, in his ear the calm voice of a woman
instructs him to "wipe"
when I first saw this moment in the movie theater
I wept severely, realizing then a need within myself
I was previously unaware of--the need of an exhausted
and lost human to be given the gift of being told
the next step to take
"wipe"
"stand up"
"eat"
It can be exhausting living in a state of never knowing 
what is coming next
how to prepare
what to do
I longed to be told

something shifted later
in my 30's--I had enough experiences
that I generally knew what happened next
the mystery disappeared
and I learned what I had once considered magical
was merely a mirage--the mystery of a moment 
that seems happenstance only because it was
orchestrated by another

so now, i kiss someone
I think: i'm kissing someone
and sometimes I forget to close my eyes
it takes a lot for me to get caught up in 
"passion" 
to feel it
instead of narrate it
"i'm kissing her"
"we're moving to the bedroom"
"I ask if I can take her shirt off"
"I take her shift off"
"I feel her breasts--they feel nice. I squeeze them."
at a certain moment--briefly here and there again--we beat against each other
breathing into each other, and it feels like sex--like raw passion
the inner voice stops narrating
but then a moment later, starts again

and each sexual encounter--with man or woman--goes on like this
in this phase in my life
my brain laying out the possible options of each next step
that will happen 
and then narrates it with a distance that keeps me from engaging fully
in the moment
that stops me from believing magic moments exist for me anymore

and i'm trying to come to terms with that
perhaps i am blocked--a self-defense from past trauma
or perhaps i am awake now and magic love is an illusion that all must put to bed
with their fairy-tales
real life is complex 

it doesn't help, of course, that with women
along with my narrative of what I am doing and what is happening
i occasionally get tuned into the conservative christian channel
their harsh, judgmental static beating up my brain
telling me what i am doing is wrong
and that i am just making up this stuff, just choosing it to be hurtful
(which even as these intrusive thoughts enter, i recognize how
intrinsically NOT me they are)

and because i still hear that
i am trying to be gentle with myself 
to give myself space and time to experience things
and not place expectations on them

to find my own center gravity
without chatter

this woman now
with whom i am engaging in my current exploration
she is kind and good and calm and her eyes twinkle when she looks at me
and i am old enough, experienced enough now to know how rare that is
i enjoy the feel of her full, warm, squishy body smashed up against mine

i enjoy that
and so i'll explore it and try not to judge myself 
or make myself name anything that doesn't feel totally true

sometimes my voice says
what if i'm straight
after all this
what if i'm straight

that voice is fear

and to that voice i want to say
i'm sorry that you were made to feel so afraid
and ashamed
you should not have been made to feel that way
but you were and you do
and it's okay

your fears are certainly valid
but they wont stop you from exploring
your truths--because that, i truly feel,
is my mission on earth--to unearth the truth
about myself
and to evolve in my beliefs--ever questioning
and putting ideas to the test and learning and growing
and loving and letting myself be loved

so, forward
and bravely!