Just To Be
by Lee Etscovitz, Ed.D.
It's summer, that time of the year when many of us go on vacation. We all have different reasons for a vacation and different notions of what it should be. There may be a desire for a temporary change of pace and activity, perhaps an opportunity to rediscover oneself or to express oneself in some special way, or a chance to be with someone special. Whatever the reason and, depending to some extent upon one's financial situation, whatever duration and shape the vacation takes, it usually represents a change from one's daily routine.
It was during a recent vacation at a lakeside cabin in New England that I arose one morning at 5:00 AM to sit by the sun-lit and ripple-free water. The early morning calm made it hard for me to believe I was still in this world. And yet there I was, with the noise inside my head the only reminder of the urban hum I had left behind just a day or two before. To tell the truth, I was not used to sitting still in the midst of such outer stillness, but it felt good. It was only later that night, in the midst of a darkened stillness, that I began to write a poem in an attempt to capture what I had experienced that morning. The poem is called, Just To Be:
Give me my music
and give me my books
and give me a house
that sits by the sea.
Give me a place
for peace and reflection,
the stillness of dawn,
a time meant for me.
Give me no more
than a time and a place
to hear my own heart
and to know I am free.
And when I return
to the clocks and the clatter
I will keep in my soul
what it means just to be.
My own notion of what constitutes a vacation is apparent in this poem. I obviously prefer a very peaceful situation with an opportunity to read and to listen to music in a place somewhat removed from the everyday demands of life. I guess one could stay home, take the phone off the hook, and not answer the door for a few days, but temporarily getting away from it all is somehow special, in other words, a real vacation.
But what makes a vacation especially meaningful to me is its transgender significance. One does not have to be transgendered, of course, to want to get away from the daily demands, from what I refer to as "the clocks and the clatter," in order to remind oneself of what it means "just to be." But it is the transgender experience which makes the clocks and the clatter and vacations especially significant for me, for it is not easy "just to be" as a transgendered person in a world which does not generally take kindly to gender change.
"Straight" men, generally speaking, seem to have a more difficult time with gender change, if it becomes known, than do women. Given this fact, the reference to "the clocks and the clatter" should probably read, "the jocks and the chatter." No one where I work five days a week knows of my gender history, nor do I ever want them to know. I just want to be a person, in this case a female person, doing my job and getting along with everyone. So I hope no one ever finds out about my transition. If they do, I might have to leave my job, but I would not want to keep moving around like a criminal who is trying to avoid prosecution.
Given the clocks and the clatter and the jocks and the chatter of daily life, both at work and in society in general, the question emerges: where does one find the much needed self-belief and courage with which to face each day? Where does one find the strength day after day to deal with an underlying tension at work and even (maybe especially) at home? Is there some kind of faith or support that is available which can help a transgendered person "just to be" in the midst of it all? What does it take to keep alive the sense of self which can be found on a vacation but which can be harder to retain, let alone find, during the daily routine with its various pressures?
My own courage and self-belief and thus my sense of self have been fostered by at least three major inputs, all three of which I have actively chosen for myself. The initial act of choosing was itself probably fostered by a fear of getting older and dying without having done anything about my gender wishes. So I proceeded to choose three activities, all of which are ongoing in varying degrees.
I first joined Renaissance, a support group for the transgendered. I joined eight years ago and have become very active in the organization. I have given of my time and money and have received in return the opportunity to become involved in the ongoing effort to develop a better world for the transgendered. I have made friends, have learned a great deal about the intellectual, social, political, psychological, legal, physical, and medical issues which are part of the transgender struggle. I am part of an effort which includes me but which is definitely larger than me. That inclusion is itself supportive as I struggle "just to be."
A second effort on my part as I searched for the inner freedom I needed to survive as a transgendered person was to consult a therapist or counselor. I spent two years in therapy as I struggled to accept what I had denied for so long, namely, my transgenderism. From time to time, as some inner need dictates, I will still consult a counselor for help in thinking through an issue, usually one which involves a threat to my self-belief. I do not consider myself to be psychologically fragile, but I also do not claim to be impervious to self-doubt, especially in terms of my gender change.
A third way in which I strove to maintain my self-belief and to keep alive the courage I needed to face each day was my membership in a spiritual group which I continue to attend one full Saturday each month, twelve months a year. This group has nothing to do with transgenderism itself, but it does have to do with being oneself, regardless of who one is. A key aspect of this group is its belief in its members being able to sit still, to meditate, if you will. It is this sitting still which I find difficult to do but which, when practiced, helps me to find that stillness within myself that allows me to hear "what it means just to be."
Perhaps it was that stillness by the lake which resonated with my ongoing spiritual quest in general and my gender quest in particular. That early morning calm ushering in the day continues to be part of the spirit with which I face each day with its clocks and clatter. I strive to keep alive an inner stillness in the midst of outer commotion. I strive to keep alive at the very center of my being the knowledge of who I am, even as my past sometimes haunts me or someone in my presence fails to respect me as the whole person I know myself to be. That house by the sea is ultimately my inner house with its inner books of wisdom and its inner music of the soul. Wherever I go I will always strive to keep my sense of self alive, if only by listening to an inner stillness which tells me, as if through a whispering tree, what it means "just to be."
Want to comment? Send email to Dr. Etscovitz at hmdm@voicenet.com.
|