Q is for Quiet

Dear all, I do apologize for the tardiness of this post-I seem to have stepped in a big pile of flu. I hate to miss work, so I'm running home, taking a buttload of meds and sleeping until morning. It's a terrible life, hurting the things I love, like the gym and authoring, but a necessary evil. Here's from yesterday!

Having worked more with the Deaf than most Deaf people, I know a thing about this focused culture, or so I like to think.  

They have a newspaper, and it’s called, “The Silent News.”

Never has been newspaper been so incorrectly named since Fox News actually saying “News” in it’s title.

The Fox part is accurate-it’s all about the sly deceit.

The Deaf are a terrifically noisy lot, both literally and metaphorically. You never want to be the kitchen when the Deaf are washing the plates from the day. The clanging! They don’t know about it. But you will. Invite a friend over who has a partial hearing to watch the Fast and Furious, Part, like, Whatever. Crank up the captions, crank up the volume.

And you, too, will be partially Deaf too by the end of the night.

I came to age during the The Week The World Heard Gallaudet. Several of my friends where there and they sent me letters afterwards. Talk about not being quiet! In fact, we’re looking at a (supersmokinghot) Deafie on America’s Next Top Model about to sweep Dancing With the Stars. I’ve lost count how many proud Deaf adults have approached me, once they figure out I’m hearing and scold me for ‘taking pity’ on them.

“Nope. Just love sign language, that cool?”

Just making noise, they are. A wonderful din that means they’re experiencing the world about them and getting their fair share. No worries, I get it.

They are far from quiet, as I was saying.

But this article isn’t about making noise to get attention. It’s about the quiet moments. Many have been just as quiet and still stood out. Einstein did his science works, not to make money, because his brain was wired to do so. The Dali Lama is all about the peace. He’s doing what he believes. Those who have made me look to their honesty were not the ones who screamed and yelled, but were quiet. Terrorists blow up themselves. But the quiet dignity of the majority of Islam proves to me that is what their faith is about.

Henry David Thoreau sat quietly in the woods and made bread on Walden pond.

Yes, a splash was made, a noisy one, but I’m hoping you’re getting my drift.   

I’m recently inspired by the insanely, almost inhumanly, hot Nyle DeMarco.  The dude has skills. Look at me. I was raised off of stage left of the dance floor, thank you very much, MotherUnitPrime. And because of that, I get dancing probably a bit more than the average bear.

As it were.

And when I watch Nyle, previously of America’s Next Top Model, I see not only a hot dude, but someone who is truly an athlete, who is very much in tune with his physicality. And he’s winning.

Not only on the that show, but on Dancing with the Stars. People sing his praises, talk about his a role model for all that. He overcame nothing, really, for being Deaf isn’t a bad thing. He had a strong upbringing and sense of self. Yet he’s still making waves. He didn’t get into this business to make a statement, to show the world that Deaf people have incredible abs AND can dance the samba.

Instead, he was himself, quietly, doing what he thought was best, and the light? That light blasted through like a beacon.

When I came out of the closet to myself and others, I didn’t get a manual, regardless what the Haters, Inc, think. I was just being true to myself. My dad yelled at me some, thinking I was being queer to make some kind of statement about who can love, and I got a kick out of that. I was making a political and societal commentary by merely lusting after dudes like Nyle, I guess.  But, recently, a friend whom I’ve not spoken to in a good three years sought me out on social media. We’d been friends since high school, and we’d comment on each other’s posts and such.

His son, a mere 12 years old, was coming out of the closet. And he wasn’t devasted, but he just wanted to talk about it some, ask for advice.

I was honored.

Because, well, I had no manual, as mentioned, I was just quietly existed. I have friends on my FB page that do more drag than a Virginia Slim menthol.  Queens that rule more that England’s Elizabeth. And they’re awesome, I admire them for their strength and charity and humor.

I guess I had been quiet. And merely myself. I had no intent to be this person, it sorta just happened between writing, teaching, loving, and buying Disney World annual passes.

I know it’s cliche, but, yes, it’s there. Quietly be yourself and the louder you will be.

I write for a blog you’ll find here on this blog, Taking the Florida Plunge. And frequently, in the chat windows, I encounter so many spouses, male and female, sad and scared. They just moved here, not sure if they like it, not sure if they want to stay.

As we say in our brief Zen circles, be still; be quiet.

In our world, right now, you can yank your phone up and see how many calories are burned up in sex and if  you can lick your elbow. Immediate gratification. We’ve lost that sense of depth and these folks, riding the wave of craziness that is moving to another state, don’t have the safety net that years of living in one place afforded. I counsel them, thusly. Do what you like to do. The people will float out of the woodwork. And you don’t have to hurry or worry. If you’re not sure if you’re going to like them, don’t. Time and patience are virtues.

It all works out. If it doesn’t...then it’s not over.

Peace.