Many years ago, I was blessed with a “spiritual awakening”. (Some might call it a nervous breakdown.) And from the depths of my confusion I realized I’d been blessed with a chance to live my life in awareness and integrity.
I came to realize that I’d been living my life as a desperate 12-year old – all too eager to please, to be liked, to run from my fears and sadness. I played the clown, the diplomat, the good guy. I had to be first, to be liked, to be seen as successful and unflappable. I’ve stopped hanging on to all that. Now I think I’m about 30 and emotionally maturing rapidly. Next week I might be 31.
I used to think I was better than most people and less than the same amount of people. Now I realize I’m neither. In fact, I am no different than a rock, or a tree or a coyote. Just a man doing his best.
I don’t engage in gossip. I find myself feeling compassion for the arrogant and angry because they’re human beings doing their best. The only difference between thieves and me is not who we are, but we do. I’m kind, courageous and optimistic. Comfortable in both my masculinity and my expanding compassion for others, including myself. People say I look far, far younger than my years. Healthy living, good genes, luck. (My pictures are real and recent. My stated age is approximate.) I play the guitar while crooning country-western ballads. I prefer oatmeal raisin cookies to chocolate chip. I love sports underdog movies.
Am I looking for love or the perfect mate? No, I am not looking for anything. I’m interested in moments of scintillating transparency with a woman in all her authenticity. Those moments where two people can confess it all, say what they’re thinking and feeling, without judgment or vitriol. And I trust that if I just keep showing up (Woody Allen once said, “80% of life is showing up”), the right woman will be there. That’s right, she might even be here on OKCupid Until then, I’m content in my aloneness, which is different than being lonely.
I aim to be like water, water that flows compassionately into the cracks and crevasses of my still hidden self. And into the same places of a woman who connects with all this malarkey.
PS. Reading this, you might find it ironic I make my living in the world of comedy. I just thought I’d stop trying to be so damn clever and share what’s inside.