Hard

There is a beautiful Sara Bareilles song that has a lyric that says, "I'm gonna love you and maybe it's gonna last this time, but I am gonna love you, you never have to ask, 'Till you start looking back, I wouldn't need a second chance."

This is how I live my life. This is how I love my life. If I love you. Friend, lover, family, hope to be lover, lover of spirit, lover without admittance, complicated lover, this is my truth. This is my reality. THIS is my beautiful.

Love shouldn't be hard. Actually, love is NEVER hard.

Let me be clear. Hard and complicated aren't the same damn thing. Love is often complicated. Love is often hurtful. Love often comes at the wrong damn time in the wrong damn place. Sometimes it comes in the wrong damn body (note: Nicole Zajkowski nee Harris who I would have married at 18 but she was born in the right body for her, the right spirit for me, but her body and my desire didn't match). Love sometimes requires work. Love often requires bravery. Love is always laced with fear. As bell hooks once said, "To risk great love is to risk great hurt." Without risking being absolutely and completely ripped apart and devastated you can NEVER and will NEVER have that passionate, destructive, transformative, healing, and potentially deadly love that we all deserve. It's our fears that keep us from it not our capability.

I know what it means to run screaming from the possibility of happiness, from an inkling of love, from the hint that someone may actually give me what I DESERVE, what we all deserve.

God Bless the HIV virus. God Bless being a rape survivor. God bless being a child of intense and traumatic abuse. God Bless having grown up wondering if I would have dinner. God bless racism. God bless heterosexism. God bless addiction.  God bless any and every oppression that I have survived.

Because if I have survived to almost 35 in the skin, spirit, and body in which I live and the history that I carry, then motherfuck if I will ever run AWAY from happiness. If I have had the grace of God and begged, borrowed, and found the strength to beat that shit, then I WILL NEVER AGAIN RUN AWAY FROM LOVE.

In fact, I will risk everything for that passionate love that I believe is out there for all of us. I WILL risk devastating hurt, because I deserve earth shaking happiness and joy of the type promised in Heaven but DESERVED on Earth.

And so do all of you. Bravery isn't just about surviving the shit that comes with living, it is also required to reap the gifts, treasure and bounty that is ALSO your portion of life. Survive, but CHOOSE joy and be brave enough to risk pain in order to get it. That is what it means to truly live.

Go in.

When A Relationship Ends

Last week, I ended a three year relationship with my former partner David. It was a hard decision, and I spent several months thinking about it, talking about it with one of my best friends, and feeling my way to my truth.

When the answer came, it was clear, and it was sad, and it was right.

I didn't leave David because he cheated on me. He never hit me. He didn't treat me poorly. Like all couples, there were times that were rough and there were times that were happy. From sharing our small apartment with his ex-boyfriend Frank to losing my job due to the recession, we had gone through some deep things together.

Real deep.

He loved me through a couple of intense relapses where I went to really ugly places within myself, and he stood by me. I will never ever be able to repay that love debt. I was a crazy motherfucker that was hurting and struggling and self-destructing because I was struggling against some old and evil beliefs about myself, but with his love and support I made it through.

For the last six months, I have been on an extremely limited income, and he paid for most of our bills during that time (a couple of years ago our roles were reversed....financial hard times happen when folks are together...but you work it out).

So, when I was thinking about ending our relationship, it became a struggle between the debts that I felt I owed him and the debt I owed myself. Neither of us was perfect in this relationship, but it isn't for me to tell his tale. This is my part of the story, and so I can only say that in the end, I decided that I could repay the physical debts I had to David while also being true to the spiritual debt I had to myself.

A debt of happiness. A debt of joy. A debt of affection and care. A debt of cuddling and snuggling. A debt of healing sex and healing love. A debt of strength. A debt of safety. A debt of standing on my own two damn feet.

I came to the truth that I was staying in the relationship not because he and I were growing together, learning together, loving together but because we had fallen into a comfortable pattern of mutual support and often times paternalism. He was someone for me to rely on, and neither of us was getting that deep down joyous love, peace and sustanance that every single person deserves. We had become the best of friends but we weren't boyfriends in any way.

I wasn't always a good partner. I wasn't ever perfect. But I loved him the best way I could. I loved him when I couldn't love myself. He taught me what it was like to truly see someone and love them not despite their flaws but inclusive of them. I can't take away the hurt he is feeling right now. I would if I could. I would take away all the times when I wasn't good and when I caused him worry and pain. But I know that we DID grow together, we did learn from and teach each other, and we did love each other, imperfectly, but openly.

And with my own love and support of others like David, Mark and Jeff, Kamal, Megan, Eli, Pookie, Wifey, and nameless others, I am now the strongest, happiest, and most centered I have ever been. THAT work I did MYSELF. THAT WORK and THAT GROWTH I owe to NO ONE. THAT I owed to myself. And THAT work I will continue to do and live and love myself a little more every damn day.

I also have love for David. It is my sincere hope that we continue to be deep friends, artistic collaborators, and family. What this moment in life has taught me is that a break up is not something you do to someone else...it is something you do for yourself.

I am finding my joy. I wish nothing but joy, peace, and happiness to him. Thank you for the gifts you gave me.

Happiness is a Choice

It took me until my mid-30s to come to this realization, but a short time ago, I realized that happiness is a choice.

Now let me explain. I am not a hippy dippy dopey faux hippy confusing a good high with happiness. Nor am I on an industrial strength supply of lithium. What I have come to understand is that in any given day there will be highs and lows...you may be pissed off or sad...someone may hurt you or you may have done something not so smart that hurt yourself...but even in those places of hurt, sadness, pain, or confusion...you can choose joy.

Sound like a contradiction? Nah...stick with me here.

Today, I had a moment with a fucked up racist Russian bank teller at my bank. I have been going to this same credit union branch since I moved to NYC. Before today, I never had a problem. Sometimes my checks are written out to my legal name, William Brandon Lacy, and sometimes the checks are made out to Brandon Lacy Campos. My ID says William Brandon Lacy on it, but in the past, the fact that my ID has Brandon Lacy on it, as long as the check was written to William Lacy, William B. Lacy, William Brandon Lacy, Brandon Lacy or Brandon Lacy Campos...the good tellers have realized that golly gee two of the three names on the check were the same, so gosh...there isn't anything shady going on.

Enter Sister Mary Gulag of Bitchskaya, Siberia. The women looked at me, looked at the check, and said..."this isn't you."

I said, politely, "Excuse me m'am, but do you not see the names Brandon Lacy on the idea and the check."

"Yes, but there is no Campos."

So I reply, "M'am...I have two last names...one just happens to not be on my ID. But, as you can see, Brandon and Lacy are on the check and ID."

"Yes but this isn't you."

And she gave me a look that basically made me want to punch a hole through the Plexi-glass and scoop her eye out of her socket.

And then came the coup de grace when she said, "You can mail it to your bank and see if THEY will deposit it."

Only by the Grace of God did that woman not get a free trip back across the Ural Mountains on Foot in the Ass Airlines.

So I said, "I will be back with the check re-written."

And she gave me a smile that basically said, "Sure nigger. Next!"

That's when I made a choice.

You see up until that point in my day, my day had gone so super well. I'd spent the night at Keith's spot. I walked home, and we had a great workout at the gym. Well, by great I mean that I did some cardio before sprinting to the office to get a report into the Drug Policy Alliance. I'd made plans to meet back up with Keith to finish my workout that afternoon, and I had already decided that I was going to treat myself to my favorite dish at Pam's Real Thai on 49th Street (the crispy pork with basil will change your life).

I actually love going into the office, because I get to work hand in hand with amazing interns, the brilliant and sexy Amber Hollibaugh and Jay Toole...and every day is a day closer to July 19th when my poetry collection It Ain't Truth If It Doesn't Hurt comes out.

So as I was walking out of the bank back to the office to get Amber to re-write my check, and I was contemplating if my Chuck Norris skills were tight enough that I could kick through the Plexiglass to exact my ninja revenge on said Wicked Witch of Far East, I realized that I had just given this Creature of Darkness way too much power over me.

So I chose happiness.

The minute I put on my headphones and put on "Happiness" by Alexis Jordan...I found myself back in that joy spot. Can't no body take away that place of joy except me. I have mad skills and many years of emptying my joy tank, but I have been working too damn hard to fill it to let ANYONE empty it. If what you are bringing me is your hurt and trying to make me feel what you are feeling, if you bring me your anger and try to raise mine, if you bring me your pain and try to make me feel it, if you bring me your sadness and try to make me cry, do not be offended when I say to you, "Find your joy."

I found mine, and I am keeping it.

Unemployment is Good for Your Health

For the last seven weeks I have been one of the roughly 30 million (give or take a million) Americans that are unemployed. Being broke is a bitch. There was a report on CNN recently that there is a direct correlation between the newly unemployed and the development of new physical ailments from an increase of common infections to more serious life threatening diseases such as heart disease, hypertension, and arthritis! The potential for depression and anxiety increases exponentially. And being the only kid on the block that hasn't seen Wolverine, Star Trek, or Underworld 3 is totally sucky.

Seven or eight years ago I found myself in the same position I am in now. I was unemployed for almost seven months. That go round I sat on my couch, applied for jobs, and drank. A lot. I basically fell into a giant depressive hole. I vanished from society in general. Hell, my best friend lived across the hallway from me, and she barely saw me. I gained roughly 30 to 40 pounds topping out at 210 pounds. By the time I returned to work, I was depressed, fat, on medication, and my apartment looked as if Oscar the Grouch was my decorator. Nasty.

This go around I was determined not to repeat my personal history. I am going to let you in on a little secret: I am quickly approaching the best shape I have ever been in (my ass is gettin' so muscular that I did a squat today and blew out the seam in my boxer shorts), I am eating damnedly well, and though I have no money...I manage to even have a social life. There are some things you can do to make sure that your unemployment doesn't kill you. It is damned hard to pay off those students loans from Purgatory.

It's called the GOYA Philosophy (named after that delightful company that makes everything from spices to black beans). GOYA= GET OFF YOUR ASS!:

1. GOYA and Exercise: If you have a gym membership that you haven't had to ax yet...it should be the last thing you consider getting rid of after rent, food, and utility bills. I am dead serious. Now is the time to get into the shape that you have always wanted to get into. You have nothing but time...and no excuse not to make the time in your day to exercise. Committing one hour each day minimum that includes 30 minutes of cardiovascular exercise and 30 minutes of lifting weights will change your world and your outlook. Extensive research shows that cardio exercise and weightlifting when done every day is as good as psychotropic drugs that control for depression and anxiety (DO NOT STOP TAKING YOUR MEDS IF YOU ARE ON THEM!), but, as a person that does take psych meds...I can tell you that psych meds plus exercise has changed my world and my outlook.

If you do not have a gym membership but can afford to get one. Do it.

If you can't afford a membership then contact your local YMCA or YWCA. Both organizations have fitness in their mission and provide subsidized memberships or nearly full scholarships for low income folks and students.

Also, at any gym you join the staff will give you a free orientation to the gym and most gym memberships come with group fitness classes where you can do fun workouts with other folks and meet more peeps in your community. Networking networking networking.

2. GOYA and Eat!: I love to eat. Now is the time to train yourself to cook for yourself. Explore new foods. Experiment in the kitchen. Vegetables are cheap and good for you. I am a meat eater...and I have had to cut down on my meat intake because of the cost. I have discovered, however, that I LOVE many more veggies than I thought I did. I have also had a chance to explore with different foods and food combinations...and guess what...I am eating cheaply, well, and in copious amounts...and loving it.

3. GOYA and Go to the Museum: One of my favorite pastimes with David is to check out the fantastic museums in New York...for free. I have lived all over this lovely nation of ours, I promise you that if you live in or near a major city said city has cultural institutions that have FREE nights. Find out when the free nights are at your local museums and check out some art. No matter who you are...you will surprise yourself by what you find and what you find that you like...even I the grand hater of most modern art...has found artists whose work I adore. You never had time to check out that exhibit of Ancient Babylonian Dildos...now is the time to do it.

4. GOYA and Network: All over the U.S. folks are putting together speed networking events and other mixers where folks get together and exchange information. The best way to find a job is to find out from somebody who knows somebody. At a time when PhDs are fighting for manager positions at Taco Bell...who you know is just as important as the letters you may have after your name. Talk to anyone and everyone anywhere you are. That crazy lady sitting next to you talkin' to her reflection in the bus window might just be an eccentric crazy lady who owns an investment firm. Well...maybe not...but at social networking events you are guaranteed to meet folks that may have a connection to your area of expertise. Sitting at home watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs may keep you up to date with who has gone dyke this season but it probably won't help you get a job.

5. GOYA and Write: Or draw, or paint, or sing, or dance, or clog, or drag out that old saxophone...whatever it is that you used to do or haven't done in a while that lets you express your creative self...do IT! When you engage your creative self you get the hell up out of that part of your brain that keeps you fixated on what you don't have. Engage other parts of your brain that will help you think creatively and send out positive energy into the world or capture your negative energy and turn it into something positive. If you have ever wanted to learn how to do something...now is the time to do it. Take a free community class or dance class. Who cares if you aren't a pro at it...if you feel good doing it...do it...it keeps your outlook positive, your energy up, and your thinking fresh and invigorated...all things that will help keep you on the right path to finding what the universe is trying to send you.


I am no guru. I don't pretend to have a magic answer for you. I have lots of love and support in my life right now (if only I could cash that shit in and pay rent)...but I do know that by taking advantage of the time I have both to look for work and to enjoy the free time I have by filling it with productive, fun, and exciting experiences...I am able to stay away from dwelling on the fact that my bank account is as empty as Rush Limbaugh's head. Remember...GOYA...live by it...and you will be aiight.


Credit: The painting above is by Francisco GOYA.
Credit Update: My friend Rookie Scott has informed me that he just viewed this painting in Madrid. He also says that the thought is that GOYA may not have done it. Thanks for GOYA and letting me know Scott!

Brandon's Collard Greens Recipe

Last night, I served up a mess of collard greens at my pal Norman's Easter dinner. It was a great crowd...including a Jew, a half Lebanese girl, a Russian gal straight from the gulag and shit, a Malaysian, a me, and a Southerner. It was all diverse and stuff.

Most of the folks in the room had never had greens before (let alone hamhocks). By the end of the night all that remained in the bowl was the skin of one of the hamhocks and there were calls for my recipe. Here it is.

This recipe will cook roughly a half stock pot full once full cooked and boiled down. It will comfortably feed four to six.

Brandon's Hell's Kitchen Collards

4 to 6 bunches of collard greens
1 red onion
1 to 2 jalapenos
Crushed red pepper
3 to 5 garlic cloves
4 smoked hamhocks
salt
black pepper
oregano (dried)

Cooking instructions:

Wash the collard greens and make sure there is no dirt and grit on them. Then, peel the leaf off the stock and away from the center stem. Discard the stalk and stem and set the leafy greens in your stock pot.

Once you have cleaned the greens and placed them in the pot, get your hands way down in there and tear the leaves into smaller pieces.

Add the hamhocks to the pot.

Dice the onion and garlic and jalapenos and place those in the pot as well.

Fill the pot with water leaving about an inch of room at the top of the pot. Then sprinkle in the salt, pepper, dried oregano, and crushed red pepper. If you like your greens hot...use more pepper...if not...use less. Same goes for the jalapeno.

Turn the greens on medium high heat and bring to a low boil. Cover them bad boys up and then let 'em percolate for the next four to six hours. The longer you let them cook, the better the flavor...when you taste the greens...and they melt like butter on your tongue...they are done man. If you are in a hurry, you can eat 'em after about four hours cooking time.

You can do all of this in a crock pot as well.

Also, from time to time add water to the pot--make sure the greens are always covered...and stir occassionally to make sure they don't stick to the bottom of the pot.

For good luck, make you some black eyed peas and rice and serve 'em up with the greens.

And there you have...when folks smack their lips together and are rubbin' their bellies...tell 'em Brandon sent ya.

Mr. Lacy Campos goes to Washington

So, I am on the Bolt Bus on my way to Washington, DC. The world is full of wonders in that I am traveling at 60+ miles per hour and have free wireless internet on the bus. These new fangled inventions and technological progress never cease to amaze me. Hey glory.

I am actually on my way to Washington, DC to do a three week federal lobbying fellowship with Consumer's Union. I am deeply looking forward to this experience, as it will be both personally and professionally exciting. Public policy, in general, gives me a woody. The ability to not only craft it but the point of sale moment is what I thrive on. My recently released article framing DTV as a social justice issue is one example of how you take a particular policy viewpoint and then translate it into language and imagery that allows it to resonate with the population in general. Public Policy is meaningless if it can not be popularized and translated so that the young and the old can understand it with equal ease.

I also had the honor, last week, of talking about my article on the syndicated radio program, CounterSpin. Check out www.fair.org and click on CounterSpin to listen to a podcast of the broadcast.

I started this fellowship trip by flying into NYC. Between Mrs. Harris passing last week, work issues, and relationship issues, I needed to see and spend time with and make love to my partner. I did those things, and I felt at peace. There was no drama...even when I had to spend time alone with David's ex-boyfriend. Tildon the Wonder Dog broke into his creepy yet sweet doggie grin when I walked into the room. As a matter of fact, he wedged himself against me for most of the time I was there at night. And he definitely gave me the reproachful, "you are a bad Step-Dad," eyes when I wheeled my suitcase out today.

I love my partner. I am going to see him in four days, yet the weight of our separation and the short time spans together (this staccato visits) are both necessary and torturous. Necessary in that I get to breathe in the scent of him that drives me insane. There is something soft and visceral about his skin. I love it. It is torturous because as soon as I get centered with him again, we have to jet out. I know in the next few months that this will be resolved as I am moving in with him. But between now and then I must own the suckage with the grace.

The World We Create

Moving through the world these days is a little bit like walking on a tight rope suspended above a caldera filled with a molten lake of lava and Hurricane Katrina coming straight at you. The world let out a joyous yell when Obama took the oath of office. Indeed, I was crying openly and unashamedly. The last week has been filled with glitz, glamour, confirmations, appointments, balls, interviews, First Family photos, and Americans finally proud to claim their citizenship—many of us for the first time.

Yet, today, Sprint cut 8,000 jobs. Home Depot cut 7,000 jobs. Caterpillar cut 20,000 jobs. A report was issued today saying that much of the damage done to the climate is irreversible (at least until the year 3000). We are still fighting two wars on two fronts. There is an uneasy cease fire in Gaza—perhaps only long enough for the Palestinians to bury their dead and their murdered. Unemployment is skyrocketing. Homeland U.S.A., a fucked up reality series about border enforcement, is actually going to hit the airwaves, and it will be another four months before I am happily living with my boyfriend. The world is fucked up right now.

The emotional, physical, psychic, and spiritual pressures on the world and the people living in the world are palpable. People everywhere seem to be scrambling as quickly as they can towards whatever short term end they see for themselves with no eye towards the future or care for those around them. Some individuals—from Blagojevich to local managers seem incapable of saying…I fucked up…sorry...and instead are doing whatever they can to protect their ego, and, sadly, they will soon find that it is only their ego that they have left. The world is poised at the edge of something beautiful or something terrible and at this particular moment in history it is a complete crapshoot. It could go either way, and it seems like crazy people are the ones tossing the dice.

Whew.

I have, lately, subjected myself to the crazy winds of the world that are threatened to blow us off our tightrope. The reality is that living in the world as it is requires acknowledging some of the world’s momentary realities. At the same time, I would be a shortsighted fool to not see that if I can abjure the winds and call rains on the lava lake that I will easily walk to the other side. In my own life I am blessed. I have a wonderful partner, I have a book being released this fall. I am working on a new play with the man I love. I am going to see my little brother and close friends in just over a week. I am going to see other close friends this coming weekend. The WORLD is fucked up but the many worlds in which we live and move and breathe and sing and dance and create and love and make love are actually still there, still intact, and full of the energy, peace, truth, and strength we need to make it through what seems like the approach of the Four Horsemen.

I challenge myself to deny the zeitgeist and to embrace the healing spirit that Obama represents (in some limited measure) and to fully embrace the healing spirit that my community embraces. This does not mean that there will not be personal or community struggle. This does not mean the path will be easy. It is my firm belief that peace is a process and not a destination. If you believe that once you reach peace that it is yours forever then you are not doing the work to maintain it. I welcome others to join me in creating love circles and peace dreams. I welcome you to stand with me in projecting into reality a new way of being that holds those accountable that need to be held accountable without sacrificing the peace and love and joy that is yours to have without question and with the responsibility of sharing those gifts with those around you: friend or stranger.