There’s No Place Like Home
The search for my place in this world – my community and family – is one of the driving forces in my life. You see, I'm not involved with my family and, even when I was, I never felt like I belonged with them. I've also never really had a BFF or one primary clique of friends. I guess I'm poly when it comes to friendship. In school, I bounced between the athletes, the musicians and the smarties because I was all three. It's the same now, though the categories have shifted. I have my music biz pals, my spiritual buddies and my homo chums. Every now and then there are crossovers or interminglings, but not that many.
In the Indian Yogic tradition that I study, the word for community is sangham. There's another word, satsang, that means 'to keep company with the truth.' Keeping a community filled with good company is, therefore, a definite lodestar on the spiritual path. As we all well know, it's also an imperative in the queer world as many of us are family-less. Coming into the holiday season, that point becomes even more crystalline, as does my yearning for kinship.
Last week Moon asked me to write about Thanksgiving. Being a vegetarian who doesn't watch parades or football, I thought myself an odd choice. She suggested writing about spending the holiday with my queer family, to which I replied that I don't have one. And I don't, if you mean queer in the gay way and not just odd. Most of my friends are, in fact, straight. Many of them have young kids. As wonderful as it is being the token gay auntie, I definitely miss being in a tribe of homos.
Velvetpark has long been my main passport into that tribe, that blithesome sangham. Does it matter that we're primarily an online clan? Not at all. What matters is that we come together as a community and keep company with the truth – with our truth – by voicing our opinions, sharing our wisdom, talking about our experiences and supporting each other in our individual and collective journeys. By doing so, perhaps I – we – will finally find our place in this world. And maybe, just maybe it's this little patch of virtuality, this little park of velvet that we call home.