The unexamined life is not worth living – Socrates (Part 1)

As the South African summer starts to merge into our southern hemisphere autumn, and I approach my 65thbirthday, I realize that my heart is full of gratitude, for I have been so lucky in life. I have had so many good friends, work I love and am passionate about, and – not the least – I am alive to enter the next chapter of my life’s journey. I look back and my mind wanders back through all those winding chapters of my years in this country and Europe. I remember the anxiety and heartache of accepting myself as gay during my early teenage years, and I remember all those beautiful faces that grace the gallery of my memory. Many of those that I knew and many that I did not know did not survive the AIDS crisis, and countless others didn’t survive the angst of knowing they wouldn’t die, that HIV was a chronic, manageable illness, and so they dove deep into the darkness of crystal meth, alcohol, and the like, dancing their way into the arms of death. I, like so many gay men, have savoured the highs and trudged through the lowest of lows in life - and we are truly fortunate to have survived when so many others did not. At moments like this, when I glance backwards and feel the tide of life and memory rushing forward, I am torn between gratitude for what was given and longing for what was lost.

It is here, in this examined life – a dialectical paradox, suspended between joy and tragedy, freedom and shame-induced bondage, great talent and squandered existence, that JJL Therapy Centre was born. As gay men, we have been anything but ordinary and predictable. Everywhere you turn, and no matter what age, station in life, and economic status, the lives of gay men of all shapes and sizes contain this polar mix of pain and ecstasy. Our problems and successes in life are truly no different than any other man’s, and yet we are uniquely identifiable in our ways – there is no mistaking gay culture when you see it. We are in no way more pathological or deviant than any other man who has walked this planet, present or past. And yet, we are clearly different. When you love a man, it fundamentally changes you – and we have all been shaped by our love of men; the heavy caress of his hand, the brush of hair on his forearm, and the powerful kiss that at once dominates and deconstructs our defenses. These things enliven our days and fuel our dreams.

During my studies for my Ph.D. and since I started on this path of coaching and counselling gay people, many men have been generous with me and shared their stories and struggle with shame. It is the concept of shame, in fact, that has enlightened so many of their lives. Prior to coaching or counselling, they had felt they had long ago been done with the ravages of shame over their sexual orientation. Some actually have no memory of feeling shame over being gay – they marched out of the closet at a young age and never looked back. It is here, at this point, that a truly life-changing insight emerges. Most of us have not felt the emotion of shame for many years – since we first came to terms with being gay. For the majority of gay men who are out of the closes, shame is no longer felt. What was once a feeling has become something deeper and more sinister in our psyches – it is a deeply and rigidly held belief in our unworthiness for love.

We were taught by the experience of shame during those tender and formative years of adolescence that there was something about us that was flawed, in essence unlovable, and that we must go about the business of making ourselves lovable if we are to survive. We are hungry for love, and our very existence depends upon it, as the British psychiatrist R.D. Laing noted: “Whether life is worth living depends on whether there is love in life.” The lesson of that early crippling shame was imprinted on our lives. If you are to be loved, you much hide the truth about yourself and work at being lovable.

The days of feeling shame over being gay passed me by like the last days of the summer, slipping into my memory as I moved on with life and went about the business of openly living as a gay man. I needed to examine my life because shame became embedded into the trunk of my ever-expanding personality, affecting everything about myself, and yet so minutely close to the core of my being that I was helpless to see it as different than “me”. As the eye cannot see itself, we cannot see or feel this embed shame. But make no mistake, the shame is there – and it is very real.

Of all the comments readers have shared with me over the past years, the one that comes up most often is: “I don’t feel shame.” Very few of us feel the shame, but almost all of us struggle with the private belief that “if you really knew the whole, unvarnished truth about me, you would know that I am unlovable.” It is this belief that pushes us, even dominates us with its tyranny of existential angst. In our own way, young and old alike, we set about the business of “earning” love, and escaping the pain of believing we are unlovable. It is this damned quest that pushes us to the highest of highs, and simultaneously brings us to the brink. This is both the creator of the fabulous gay man and his destroyer.

And so in examining my life to see it’s worth, I have to be honest about the shame that is deeply rooted in me. It is time that all gay men find the time and opportunity to talk and examine their past and their shame in a safe place, such as JJL Therapy Centre. Call and make an appointment to see me, so that we can examine your life and find the worth in it.

In my next posting, I will continue with the theme of shame and examining your life.

Loving Blessings

James