Becoming a Gay Adult

Bonus time, big projects at work to complete, goals set for 2012 in motion, and awards season--media is buzzing. And death--mid-winter, and it seems several artists are offing themselves, some after a torrid affair with addiction. Deep mid-winter. Workaholism is an addiction as well: one that separates us from the light of our love, our spine, that which makes us most human. It drives us to join with our corporations, rather than our whole selves. All addictions drain us of our life vitality. The comments around Whitney's regal presence, talent, voice and the subtraction addiction was from all of that, remind me deeply that our gifts are irrevocably damaged by driving too hard towards pleasure. That pleasure can be a job well done, a project complete, a raise, promotion... I guess I'm most reminded in this to listen to the support from those who love us. The search for pleasure (whether the high of Valentine's Day Chocolates or a job well done, a rival bested) can

Must be mid-terms. There are steps that separate men from boys. And I faced a tough week and did it with the best of grace and ease I could muster. I learned lots. One: Annie Lennox rocks it in "Smithereens," and we certainly experience life as islands at time, however we're joined under water. So it's critical that we never bomb each other, even when we appear to be enemies. From a distance we are all one. Two: As Meryl says as Thatcher, our thoughts, words, actions, habits, character and destiny deserve tending. To remain viable, I believe we must be vigilant. Daily. Three: We are all sick. Seriously. We wake up to a story we tell ourselves. We are nervous about ever letting it go. Some of us are shapeshifters, workaholics, some of us are doormats--perpetual victims with a really good story about how the world dumps on us. Some of us drink too much (thinking it's never really enough), and some of us sit in the dark and stare at a computer screen late int