Fear and truth, part I

I've been dealing with a fairly immense personal realization lately. And the nature of this realization makes it difficult to both express in words and speech. It is by its nature in the context of current social mores a that "that shall not be named" sort of epiphany. There exists a strong, nearly undeniable urge of my own to go running through the streets exclaiming this newly discovered part of myself. Yet, I am prevented from doing so by the lack of understanding of others and the fear and fallout that could follow.

It is not without hesitation that I have been for some time sort of playing into this information, this new identity. You could say I've been experimenting in certain circles with it. Not being open, but being rather loose. I choose those moments and said circles carefully however. It is no good to play with fire if you know you'll be burned. I am not a masochist.

Other realms are a different story. There are people close to me that I cannot imagine their responses to be positive. They wouldn't comprehend it. Or they would be too quick to see anything but the potential disadvantages. And be overcome with fear and confusion themselves.

So the question remains, "What do I do?"

I feel this nagging to "come clean" in a matter of speaking. To release my truth.
I feel incomplete and extraordinarily dishonest because of it. Still I am full of apprehension and paranoia that once unleashed I will be alone. A disappointment. An outcast.

My secret identity puts me into a group that is often overlooked, ignored, or just plain denied by many others, even those who too are often marginalized. And while they make progress, I have no one to identify with. No one to speak to about what is in my head and what I feel.

I have the unfortunate experience of not knowing anyone like myself; or at least the naivete of not being aware of anyone else like myself. I know they are out there...but where and how do I find them?

Even writing this now, I am overwhelmed with trepidation. And I know full well I haven't expressed my secret. I think, "but we have come so far. But not nearly far enough." "And what if they think me selfish?" Is it selfish to want to be who you really are? Perhaps!

All the arguments play out in my head.

Planes, trains, and...buses

Finally back from my recent travels...

I spent a s#^%load of time meandering about the Philly and Portland (Oregon) areas in various versions of tin/fiberglass cans on wheels. With or without wings, I might add.

Travel is by all accounts something I want to do. But I'm always thinking more about things like a month in Rome, a week at Sandals or the like.
This was not that sort of traveling!

This was public trans, often sardine style. In Portland, it was on icy, crazy windy mountain roads in an area not too familiar with the inclement weather of the week. As Murphy's law would have it I get to Portland in the middle of the worst week-long winter storm system they have had in half a decade.
Go me!

So for an area known for its progressive application of eco-friendly and all-are-welcome-social politics, they are severely lacking the infrastructure to handle ice and snow. Even with mountains rising above them.
Seems a bit odd, doesn't it?

Alas, I digress...

I spent the passed several days lined up with my Washingtons to join the masses on all these various forms of transportation. By all accounts, it wasn't an overly eventful experience.

Portland's transit strongly surpasses that of Philly's. Not surprising. But I must admit it was nice the get on the "Max" and not feel as though I was off to the gas chamber. Seriously! The Philly train reminded me of a run down cattle car the SS would have used to transport Jews to Auschwitz.
Only I suspect that train was cleaner.

I did survive however...despite the foul smell of retired human sweat, urine and "gawd knows what else" stench. And managed to go on my merry way, despite wanting to be immersed in bleach upon exiting.

I found the Portland people quite friendly, more so than I ever imagined possible. Philly people weren't unfriendly, mind you, just indifferent. And that's ok! At 6am in the morning I am NOT chatty Kathy either.

A problem I discovered with buses in both locations was a lack of continuity between them. Some buses arrived well equipped with audible, intelligible announcement systems. As a foreigner, I liked these buses!

In either city, the buses were not all like this. Both had buses or perhaps it was the routes, where the poor driver had to shout out the impending stop.
This is far from ideal, as you sit or stand holding your position with a hand rope or bar trying to maintain your belongings, with masses of people surrounding you all the while listening to their iPods and talking on cell phones full volume. Ugh!

I frequently asked those around me, "What did he/she say? Which stop is next?" To be shrugged at in response or just plain ignored.

I will give credit to the #66 riders on the VA hospital/OHSU campus route.
The bus had been delayed by more than 45 minutes and I was running neurotically late for my interview. The online schedule had me changing buses on campus to get to the appropriate building.

A minimum wait of at least another 20 minutes.

The #66 riders responded to my nerve racked queries and offered a quicker and I must say immensely generous escort to a short cut.
I even made the interview with 5 minutes to spare!
Oh Happy Day begins running through my head again, as it did at that moment.

Did I mention...
Six flights! In just 8 days. Not a record breaker I'm sure. But, did I mention that I DO NOT like to fly! Flying is so bizarre and unnatural to me. I am most obviously of the mindset that if god "wanted us to fly we would have wings."

For now the big travels are over...at least for a few weeks.
I am happy to be safely on the ground and in the Motor City.
Where the only tin can I'll be in soon will be my own.

Thank you St. Michael!