Huddled close to the warm glow of the computer screen, far above the growing silence of the city, fingers nervously tapping out a refrain without meaning or rhythm, I sit and fret. Somewhere, out in the night -- I know -- lies the source of my greatest fear. Another deadline approaches.In my last column, I acknowledged a certain propensity for procrastination. That should explain what a deadline can do to a sensitive soul like mine. Now I am happy to report that another expert has relieved me of the burden and taint of being a procrastinator. No, he wrote, this is not procrastination, it is 'anorexic workaholism'.
Well, that's me. Because the principal symptom of this form of anorexia is the tendency to make lists instead of actually tackling the job. They could put my picture in the text book (better yet, they could put in the picture at the top of this page and say it's me). The beauty of having a "new syndrome" can be quite appealing. It turns one's focus away from the same old problems. And the idea that I might be in any way anorexic -- if you could see me now -- is rather entertaining. The difficulty is that finding a catchy new name for my brand of procrastination, however amusing, doesn't really change anything: it's still a problem and I still have to deal with it.
Transgendered people like new definitions too, at least if all the theoretical discussion and flaming I see on the newslists is any indication. But come on. What does a name or a theory really change? I am both transgendered and a procrastinator. No amount of name-calling is going to change the real challenge of my life, which is to deal with all my qualities and raise them to an art form. I must also learn to enjoy my art. Sitting on a pillar in the desert (is that you Priscilla?) or living in a mountain cave (move over Francis), I could procrastinate in the most feminine way possible. I have the feeling that I would not enjoy that.
So what is holding me back? Procrastination, certainly. But also a degree of fear. Fear that someday I could turn out to be this person:
And I become frightened. But that is preventable. This forum, and the many T* people on the web who are living full, transformed lives help to show the way. The alternative is to deny a quality which, in fact, I treasure. Society has placed a tax on that treasure, and that is the Catch-22 that makes TGism a so-called "problem". If no one else cared, I wouldn't have a problem would I? That, however, is not the way of things today. It's more appropriate to see my 'condition' as
Frightened because the only place left
is in front of a mirror.
And there I am
forced to see what is really there:
a scared, cold, lost girl...
who is lonely.Lonely, Kenisha Rhone
Quick now, here, now, always -- That's some comfort. All shall be well. Of course it will. I remember hearing an artist talk about fear one time. He said it was like a murky pond. If you believe that you'll sink in over your head if you jump in, you won't jump. If, on the other hand, you set aside your fear and jump in, you generally find that you're only standing in water up to your ankles. I'm reaching the point where it's time to seriously test the waters. But for now, on this July night in 1995, it's
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well . . .Four Quartets, T.S. Eliot
2am
and there is an artist hidden somewhere
in the mind of a daytime retail tycoon, he's
cross-dressed as a nightingale
and wondering why he's only himself at
2am.untitled, Kate Newell
I'm no tycoon, and I don't hang around with many tycoons, but I know that person. I suspect many of you do too. And so to bed. See you all next time here at the Forum.
Janet