Gratitude for difficulty

100203 19:01
“A man (person) who has not passed through the inferno of his (their) passions has never overcome them.” --Carl Jung
If I have no honesty with myself I am lost; have no love and no value.
I fled from a dream this morning at 02:30 and read, for hours, to finish “THE LAKE THE RIVER & THE OTHER LAKE” by Steve Amick--in order to escape my dream. And avoid the consequential implications. I attempted to resolve an intuition that my dream had originated in a clergy person--there are no ‘minor’ characters in the novel. Eventually, as the day wore on, my depression turned to despair; finally desolation settled in. The Minister and I share/shared an addiction to pornography available on the Internet. Amick wrote a wonderful sermon for the Minister who . . . well that would spoil it!
Pornography, literally writing about prostitutes, is a business of astonishing profitability. It is like the drug trade in that it requires patrons to thrive. Legislation against, or censorship, will never address the need for the product.
Although I drew, painted and sculpted from nude models, starting at the age of fourteen, nudity was uncommon in my generation.
As a photographer I have avoided opportunities for photographing nude women, for the simple reason that I was terrified of falling in lust/love with them. There was little or no kindness between myself and those I would attach to in childhood. My longing for intimacy was misguided by the ideal of sexual gratification instead of sincere intimacy and mutual vulnerability; what I now know as friendship.
I am no longer surprised at what is now called “sexting,” or the commonplace of sexual intimacy implied by professional and amateur people photographically or in videos.
If I had minimum wage for all the hours lost surfing porn on the Internet I would not, now, have to recycle aluminum cans to eat. Worse. I would not shutter at the arrival of my utility bills or have to avoid general medical care.
Typical of me, I discover myself with too much to write and too little space, or time, to fully develop my thoughts, intentions, goals and objectives.
As a nation we seem obsessed with sex. Rather than moralize in general terms I am compelled to enter/alter my attitudes upwelling from within my psyche. The need for trust, an ability to negotiate both the pleasure and obligations involved with another person. I am very conscious, at the moment, how wonderfully Amick incarnates the ‘urge to merge’ with real love and in a very sincere sense makes both possible through fiction. And, at that, how poorly I’ve done limping through failed relationships; one-after-another.
I recognize how fraught with peril the issue was between myself and mom. How her attitudes regarding sex and our general relationship distorted my ability to be fully honest and fearless in my relationships with women. Add to which at my age most of the women I encounter are irrevocably damaged from abuse imposed upon them by former relationships . . . exactly as I was.
If there is any benefit to my confession it is that by example I might help those, like my former self, to enter into friendships with women, or love of your choice, to discover intimacy is not exclusively sexual.
In the news this evening, the issue of homosexuality was prevalent.  I laughed when I thought, what if the accusation was made “You are heterosexual!” and therefor untrustworthy.
Sex, religion, politics, death and taxes are all too difficult for us to accept without fear. Or are they?
In love there is no fear--at least that is my summary of a difficult day. At issue is what do we cling to by way of truth? Does it work in current time? My metaphor: myself in the middle of the Pacific clinging to a slowly deflating rubber life vest. No government or religion can re-inflate the support I once depended upon.
I am grateful for this difficult day now resolved in peace.