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In my peripheral, I caught his head swing sharply, instinctually in my direction (or so I imagined). He was passing briskly, importantly, with exaggerated airs. Rather, a seconds-long glance in a hallway where I was talking and laughing with others. When I first met Derek it wasn’t a “meeting” at all. Third, their best friend back then was my biggest crush of all time. They were beautiful and magnetic and lived large from their wild, wild hearts. They trigger none of my aversion to hetero-masculinity. If the crowd is mostly male, all the more so. From undergrad on, I’ve felt most comfortable in queer crowds embodying exactly that. Why? First, because they were flamboyantly and unapologetically out and themselves. Everyone wanted into their circle I was ever on the outskirts but kept trying. They had more friends and a grander social life than anyone in town. We rode the same float at Pride, I clung to them like a fag-hag fangirl-that sort of thing. Sure, they were “friends” in a casual way but not close. Also, by “friends,” I mean Trevor and Marcus-a wildly popular, life-of-the-party gay couple whom I deeply wanted as friends. To be clear, I never got texts-from anyone. Until one day, high on sobriety and springtime, I got a text from friends asking me for drinks and to meet a girl. My unsocial ways also eased the pressure of “everyone’s doing it.” I always felt grateful come morning, welcoming another day of study, focus and feeling alive. And yet, it wasn’t anywhere approaching impossible. Even without drinking to excess, alcohol is an addictive substance-not only to so-called alcoholics, but to humans.įorgoing that weekend relief left me agitated, restless, untethered. So, in my fourth year, I decided to abstain once more.
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Then, as school went on, I started having wine or beer on weekends-not “excessively,” but what does that even mean? Alcohol is a drug and a toxin, full stop. Getting top marks came first, and I knew drinking would impair memory and learning. By Chinese Medicine school, I was again alcohol free. Even with that, I was a late bloomer-taking my first drink at 22 with enormous trepidation, hidden behind a bush near the 7-11 where I purchased it. If I partook, alcohol was my toxin of choice.
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Otherwise, I steered clear and had no interest. There was an instance of splitting a mystery pill with a girlfriend, dancing the night away at a gay men’s club, and spending the next week feeling horrid. There was a time or two of smoking pot and not liking it. Other than alcohol, I’d had minimal experience with drugs until that point. And of course, beneath and behind it, was infatuation with someone powerful. Somehow, I’d found myself playing with the big boys. Somehow, I’d gained access to a cool inner circle. Despite long maintaining enough edge to offset my teacher’s-pet persona, falling into this particular pattern was a surprise. Specifically, once a week-Friday or Saturday-I’d go dancing and drugging from 10pm til dawn, willing away the first hints of sunrise and inevitable, abominable day after. Then came my fourth and fifth years of the program, when I started not just working hard, but playing hard too. I was studying obsessively at the time and still working remotely from my laptop. ” - Norman Fischer, Taking Our Places: The Buddhist Path to Truly Growing UpĪnd that brings us back to my early thirties and Chinese Medicine school. “There is only the wide, true, and deep effort to be effectively kind beyond moral judgement or discrimination. Humility and kindness are good flashlights for illuminating the path of ethical conduct.