Autumn Musings

It would be a perfect autumn day if it weren’t so darn hot and if the trees had actually begun to change color. Usually Columbus Day Weekend (a dreadful commemoration of genocide and greed) is the “peak” weekend for seeing the trees. With the high temperatures and lack of rain, the trees remain green, or simply turn brown and quickly drop to the ground.

I just put up some more performances over at my performance schedule. Others are in the works, but I don’t have enough details to post them yet. I purposely have cut back on my presentations this autumn, in large part because I have begun to work on some new projects and need more time at home to dig into them.

One of these is my Transfigurations play, which looks at the lives and stories of transgender, genderqueer and gender-different in the Bible and the world today. I shared some of this material at Greenbelt and received an enthusiastic response. Ultimately I hope to turn the piece into a musical. I am scheduled to do a version of it on November 19 at University of Massachusetts at Amherst. (I did Homo No Mo there last year and fell in love with the folks at the Stonewall LGBT Resource Center).

In addition to Transfigurations, I have begun researching two other projects which may very well influence my life for the next couple years. I see a time of transition ahead. I already announced that I will retire Homo No Mo in winter of 2008 (just talked to a film director/editor about a DVD version!) Since the summer with the Ex-Gay Survivor Conference and all, I feel I have finally purged my system of the ex-gay movement (it’s taken about 10 years). Time to move beyond ex-gay and to embrace the life I stopped living at age 17. What do I want to be when I grow up? Do I want to grow up?

Of course I will continue to tell my story and support ex-gay survivors, but I cannot go my whole life as the “Homo No Mo Guy”. That would not be healthy for me. So much more to me and so many other passions. Plus so many other survivors are coming forward, I am quickly becoming joyfully redundant.

A year ago my mother died, and her life and lessons inform me so much each day. In fact, a decision she made 25 years ago helped me out tremendously the other day. Since her passing, I feel so much strength, comfort and support. I also have grown closer to my dad. I feel my mom left me many gifts, but she left me probably the greatest gift a parent can leave, should they choose to do so–the gift to love me unconditionally woven together with her belief in me to live my life well. The love and faith sustain me and give me courage.

So the trees are not their normal brilliant colors and the birds don’t know what to do with themselves and we continue an autumn heatwave, but I feel like my life moves along at the right pace and the right season.

This post has 5 Comments

  1. Auntie Doris on October 2, 2007 at 9:11 pm

    I think you should be an air hostess when you grow up… seriously… I loved your Tranfigurations ‘stuff’ and I look forward to seeing more of it 🙂

    Ps) We missed you at the retreat!

  2. Jennifer on October 3, 2007 at 5:07 am

    Hey Peterson,
    I escaped semi-unscathed from the vicious jaws of corporate America a.k.a. WALMART! Now I’m unemployed and looking for a new and different job to pursue.

  3. Ally on October 3, 2007 at 11:42 am

    Happy autumn, Peterson. Happy newness.

  4. nonsequitur on October 4, 2007 at 1:25 pm

    Tell me ’bout it… crazy autumn up my way too… in most years past, peak color is passed by at least a week and most of the trees are bare by now. Here’s hoping we’ll at least have enough snow to go cross-country skiing, last year was a bust for us X-C skiers :-p. How heart-warming to hear about your mother from that perspective. I know what you mean about loved ones leaving us gifts ;-).

  5. Miss Persona on October 6, 2007 at 7:13 am

    Sweet P!
    I just started blogging again, on a new adress, and there’s so much going on in my life. Apart from the last few months, it’s only good stuff. So feel free to stop by at
    Love /Anna HP

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