I actually forgot that this was the sinister day until reminded by my friend Ryan’s horror-themed Facebook posts (Jason, hockey mask, etc). I wondered about the residual dread that still seems to dog our culture, either superstitiously, politically, economically, psychologically or spiritually.
Or maybe they are all the same….
Some behavioral psychologists have claimed that superstitions are simply ways to avoid taking possible personal responsibility for bad outcomes.
Some religious historians have claimed that superstitions flourished in cultures that were punitive and within which, religious authorities held too much power over a large, fearful lower class (think the Middle Ages or the Salem Witch trials)
Whatever the case, it’s obviously linked to forces beyond the control of the ordinary human, usually ascribed to God or gods. These Deities can seem very capricious and even cruel in their messing about in human fortune- that is until science, reason or simple awareness provides a less Divine explanation….
Got me wondering, “What do I use to avoid taking responsibility for my own involvement in my life/relationships/country/world…?”

My Aunt Donnie died on Sunday.

I have gone through a whole range of thoughts and emotions, which is why it’s taken me so long to be able to write about her and her affect on my life.

Aunt Donnie was the last remaining of my mother’s older sisters, and always, my favorite-even though I know you’re not supposed to have them. Why? Because she took an interest in me and my brother and sister. She talked to me like an adult. She bought me interesting books. She took me places I never would have gone without her. She and Uncle Bob took me (and later on, my brother and sister) to the metropolis of Seattle from rural Montana summer after summer. I got to know my cousins better. She got me a library card at the Shoreline library and encouraged me to use it- I used to take one of cousin’s old bikes to the library every day, loaded down, to and from, with books. She enrolled me in day camp at Hamlin Park. She and my Uncle Bob took me and my brother to Mariners games. She let me stay up late, reading, as long as I wanted when I was at their house. They took us to real Chinese food. We went to the Pacific Science Center and museums and fairs and interesting shops downtown. In short, she opened up the world to me in a way I never would have been able to do without her.

She was my Auntie Mame.

I always wondered why she was called “Donnie”. That was not a name I’d heard on a woman before. Once, I asked her. She said “Because the Irishmen in Dublin Gulch couldn’t pronounce Donna.”

It stuck.

Her courage, her tenacity, her stubbornness, her good heart- all that stuck, too.

It still sticks, despite her ill health in the last few years. Despite the fact that I haven’t seen her for awhile- my fault. It sticks because she was a force of nature in my life and the life of my Mom and Dad, my sister and brother.

She was and continues to be a force in my life. Her encouragement gave me experiences that shape me to this day, and I’m grateful for her presence in my life.

I’ll miss you, Auntie Donnie.

It was the Oscars, arguably the gayest night in entertainment, and I was holding back tears.
No, I wasn’t visibly moved by Penelope Cruz or her dress, I wasn’t on the brink because of the sadness of losing the talent of Heath Ledger so early, I wasn’t even farklempt at the fabulousness of Hugh Jackman’s confident singing, dancing and general over-all hunkiness- although…
Anyway, what got me all moist behind the eyes was the articulate and impassioned speech of a writer named Dustin Lance Black who was standing onstage holding an Oscar for writing the Best Original Screenplay- MILK.
These are some of his words that night:
“…When I was 13 years old, my beautiful mother and my father moved me from a conservative Mormon home in San Antonio, Texas to California and I heard the story of Harvey Milk. And it gave me hope. It gave me the hope to live my life, it gave me the hope to one day live my life openly as who I am and that maybe even I could fall in love and one day get married. I want to thank my mom who has always loved me for who I am, even when there was pressure not to. But most of all, if Harvey had not been taken from us 30 years ago, I think he’d want me to say to all of the gay and lesbian kids out there tonight who have been told that they are less than by their churches or by the government or by their families that you are beautiful, wonderful creatures of value and that no matter what anyone tells you, God does love you and that very soon, I promise you, you will have equal rights, federally, across this great nation of ours. Thank you, thank you, and thank you God for giving us Harvey Milk”

Being “less than”- that’s what got me. It is the attitude, the phrase, the feeling that permeates the hearts and minds of everyone at some point in their lives. As a therapist, as a friend, as a citizen, I’ve heard it often. I sometimes catch myself believing it.
My first response is to retreat shamefully into denial “No, no, don’t talk like that”, “That’s not true”, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”- but really, it’s a feeling, a thought, an attitude born out of experience, out of shame, out of fear and out of ignorance. And in the sense that it still happens to every one of us- especially those denied rights despite biological science and personal understanding of experience, it is true.
But it is not always going to be true.
Those of us who are denied life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness in the name of prejudice or religion or social distaste are simply not the same anymore. We’ve lived through too much. Hell, we’ve died through too much.
And if those words of Dustin Lance Black mean anything, it’s that guilt and shame are temporary conditions, imposed only if we let them.
And I think we’ve passed a significant mile marker on the way to true freedom with those words spoken on national television. We just need to believe them.

So, I’ve been sick.

The mother of all colds. Poor me. Waah.

It’s been humbling and kind of nice to not have any energy and have nothing to do but watch bad tv and sleep (off and on) while the vaporizer gurgles and fills the room with that lovely Vicks-sickroom-smell. I go back to my childhood every time. Really. I become very immature, very needy, very cranky and, as a result, ironically, I very much want to be alone. Don’t want someone constantly asking how I’m doing, don’t want to be babied, don’t want to have someone make me tea and toast or bring me books or, well, anything.

However, as I’ve matured, I’ve learned to allow others to do those things for me. I allow, but it’s certainly not second nature- I doubt if I’ll get to the level of encouraging anyone to take care of me.

But it’s a start.

As a person who’s always taking care of someone else, it goes to credibility if I can’t allow myself to be taken care of by others. Plus, it’s just good dharma to learn how to receive.

Even if it makes me feel like a baby.

Last night I spoke at the annual Hearts and Humans fundraiser for the Lewis and Clark AIDS Project:

Good evening.

Many of you know me, I’m Greg Smith and I use to work in this building several years ago….

I’m here on behalf of LCAP and the people they serve. I’m here to tell you a few things that you probably already know, and some you may not. I’m here, because my life and my life’s work have been shaped by HIV/AIDS.

I am now a therapist, and I facilitate a support group for HIV+ people here in Helena which is sponsored by (paid for) by the LCAP. LCAP provides direct services and assistance to those living with HIV/AIDS in the greater Helena area. For all that they do, we applaud them.

I am also here as a human being who happens to find himself caring deeply for other human beings, even when it’s not convenient. I assume I am in the company of people who share that sentiment…. This caring that I can’t seem to shake has brought me here to talk to you about the disease we are here tonight to face.  

I don’t say fight, because I don’t believe in fighting.

But I do believe in facing. Confronting ignorance with honesty, judgmentalism with compassion and hatred with caring and love- that’s mostly why I’m here.

But we’re all here for a reason- probably a person we love, or simply because we’re compassionate. Take a moment and remind yourself why you’re here, What’s your reason?

I’d like to take a moment to pause and remember: 

For all those who have died with AIDS, especially those we love.

For all those who continue to live with HIV/AIDS, again, especially those we love.

For those infected and yet untested, undiagnosed- too scared and ashamed to take that step.

For those with HIV in their bodies, in their families, in their communities- and for all those who work to help, We Remember….

This is a time for heroes. The world seems to be unstable, the economy is a mess and we are at war- on several fronts. It is a difficult time, but heroes aren’t required in easy times.

But let’s forget about the economy, the wars, politics and even healthcare for a minute.

 People are still dying of HIV/AIDS in the State of Montana. People are still being infected here. Families are being impacted, lives are being changed forever because of this disease. Today. Right here.

It’s not pleasant to think about, but it’s true.

That’s where you come in. After all, this is a time for heroes.

Right here, right now, we need you.

HIV will be slowed and maybe even stopped when the shame is stopped, when the stigma ends.

When a kid in Townsend or Belgrade or Opheim or Browning or Busby won’t fear being tested.

Won’t fear the reaction of his family, his friends, his church or his country if he tests positive.

When everyone at risk won’t fear being tested because they’ve tried to love in ways some find objectionable or even repugnant   -Finding love repugnant- now there’s a problem… 

When people aren’t afraid to disclose their status because of fear of recrimination or losing their jobs or being ostracized.

When information is allowed to be given freely in order to prevent HIV and educate others about risk and transmission.

When the human heart becomes big enough for all people, even those we do not yet understand.

When, when, when…

We’re not there yet, that’s why this is a time for heroes.

A time to end shame and stigma and fear and ignorance. A hero will stand immovably reasonable in the face of ignorance, a hero will speak out when she hears indifference, a hero will help when people feel helpless.

 This you are doing. Thank you. But we can all do it better.

And don’t stop when you walk out this door.

Don’t put your Red Ribbon away when you get home. Confront ignorance with honesty, judgmentalism with compassion and hatred with caring and love.

We’re here to stand in the way of shame and ignorance and fear. We’re here to make it more difficult for them to get past us. We’re here to bear witness to the power of Life.

We do it with Art, with Food, with Friends, with Compassion, with Hope and with Confidence.

We won’t give in to fear.

That’s not why we’re here.

We’re not here to give in.

We’re here to be heroic.

This week a new board was formed for the AIDS organization I belong to and work for. It may just end the era for AIDS Outreach of moving along slowly, head down, trying to do some good without attracting too much attention from cowboys with gun racks in the Gallatin Valley. I was inspired.

The people who joined the board are excellent people- the cream of the crop. they’re interested in giving back and paying forward. In a time fraught with personal concerns they still find the time and energy to be concerned with others. they took the time to work for something they believe in. Eight people in Bozeman MT, took the TIME.

This was a humbling experience for me. I’ve been involved in “causes” all my life- my default setting is “How can I help?”- but after the meeting on Sunday, I felt a little less like Superman out on his own and more like part of the Justice League. 

That feels good.

I’ve sort of been a one-man-show all my life. Yeah, I’ve worked as part of teams, been involved in group planning and process, but my own childhood baggage and oldest child syndrome often wouldn’t allow the concept of teamwork to really take with me. I’ve found it easier to take responsibility, to take initiative, to take credit and blame and and and and… It just seemed more efficient. I even had a sign on my desk when I was a priest that said “For God so loved the World, that He didn’t send a Committee”. I know, Lone Ranger, Control Freak, Micro-manager- all words that people use about me and that I use about myself.

But maybe a new era is being ushered in. Maybe Greg Smith is becoming less of a control freak and more of a leader. Maybe he’s realizing that other people are just as, or (horror) even more capable than he is. Maybe he’s able to start relaxing and let things flow and go their natural course more often. Maybe the meditation stuff is working and he’s seeing his proper place with much more perspective than before. Maybe he realizes that nothing can go wrong, no matter how hard he tries to affect the outcome. Maybe he’s finally getting real.

Did I say maybe?

It seems as if the world has gone mad. All I’m hearing is fear and strategizing and “Dow Jones Industrial Average” and “Bailout” and “Loss”. I can’t escape it, at least if I pay attention to the media. Everyone’s scrambling to hold on to everything they can and it seems that our culture is supporting this- promoting stinginess, promoting holding on tight to what little anybody might have left.

I have another take.

I believe in giving, even when it’s difficult. It doesn’t have to be money, it doesn’t even have to be hard. It just has to be done, and fearlessly. I can’t think of a single major religious tradition that doesn’t support this. Call it Karma, call it Grace, call it Walter, it doesn’t matter. We all would do well to remember that there are still people out there who can benefit from our giving- even when money’s tight. As we enter into the uncertainty of an economy born of greed and selfishness, it makes no sense to give in to fear and greed and selfishness. If we do that, we will simply continue the cycle.

To me, it makes much more sense to become bold, remember our common humanity, remember that hope is within our power to give, to receive and to kindle, and look fear in the face and laugh. If we can put our own concerns in context and see the others who may be in worse straits, then we will have succeeded.

To me, it makes absolutely no sense to give in to the madness. Who wants to be insane?

Always a dangerous proposition, I know, but seriously… I was thinking about the relationships I have with people who are very different from me, whether politically, gender-wise, orientationally, educationally, experientially, digestively, etc., etc.

Most psychologists would say that we tend to gravitate toward people who are more similar to ourselves than different- witness the cultural movements of the last century as an example. Most friendships thrive on common denominators- that’s what common sense says. Most married couples would say that the success of their marriages derive from the similarities of the couple involved.

That’s conventional wisdom, anyway.

I was thinkin’- maybe the common denominators are important for initial contact and possibly for staying power, but what if it’s the differences, the mystery that’s the force creating interest, that alleviates boredom, that holds the prospect of adventure and infinite arenas of discovery?

I remember hearing a conversation between a young woman about to be married and a woman who had just celebrated her 40th anniversary.

Young Woman: I can’t wait to learn everything about him!

Married Veteran: Sweetheart, let me tell you something. He’s a bigger mystery to me today than when we walked down the aisle…

Maybe commonality is important. But maybe it’s the differences that really need some credit in human relationships.

Worth thinkin’ about….

Okay, I’ve stepped up a bit. New blog host at WordPress. A lot less goofy looking, a little more professional and feels better to me- hopefully a better experience all around.

I’ve tried to move the old blog over but the formats aren’t compatible. Don’t be sad- if you want to check out the old blog, it’s under blogroll in the right column. Just click old blog.

And for those of you who wanted to see some of the most visited pages, I’ve moved a few prior postings to the pages section…

I’m also importing posts as notes on Facebook- feedback is encouraged and appreciated.   Srsly.

web address:   dgsma.wordpress.com

You’ll hear from me soon.