Change of Plans

I was supposed to travel from Indiana to Phoenix, Arizona this morning to meet up with my mom's side of the family for a reunion at her brother's house. Unfortunately, my mother fell in the bathroom and split her head open two and half inches wide, suffering a minor head injury on Christmas Day. Naturally, she will be unable to fly while in recovery so instead of meeting up with her in Pheonix, I am now in Florida until the 1st to help take care of her.

The rest of my holiday in Columbus, Indiana was wonderful. The two trips to church on Christmas Eve were both the hardest part of my time there and also the most humorous. While there was no falling over backwards or dancing it the aisles, my father was right on when he said, "Not yet. It's on its way." Why people feel the need to put their hands in the air and sway to speak to Jesus and feel him in their presence, I've never been sure. But the part that really sent me over the edge was when the pastor started to talk about Jerusalem. He said, "Jerusalem, as a name, means city of peace. But they will never become a city of peace until they stop rejecting the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior." I actually inhaled rather loudly at that point and explained to my father later that I felt the only way for Jerusalem to find peace is through tolerance for other people's opinions and religious beliefs -- NOT through a religion that claims they are the only path, the only way. That lack of love, unity and tolerance is the seed of the killing that is going on there today and for the Pastor to have said that, to me, was like throwing gasoline onto the fire.

On the upside, the evening service featured a communion and my little brother (who is absolutely in love with me, of course) decided he wanted to partake in it for the first time. I went up with him and they tell you, as always, "This is the body of Christ. This is the blood of Christ." Well, a few minutes later, after sitting back down, he leans over to me and whispers into my ear, "Um Jason, I can't believe we just ate the body and drank the blood!" I smiled and nodded. He leaned over again and whispered, "Don't tell anybody, but I don't believe that. I think they made that part up." I laughed and told him not to tell anybody but that I thought they made it up too.

I think it's safe to say that my father and I have pretty much completely healed the wounds inflicted on each other over the last four years. It makes me wish I had not stayed away so long. I feel like being gone, he just escalated this idea of me in his head to monstrous proportions, thinking that Satan had taken ahold me or that I was a full-on porn star or something. When I talked about my career with him this trip, he had no idea I was even writing and seemed so proud of that. He just knew I was bi and in the adult industry and I think he assumed the worst in his mind. So now he is fully informed and seems fine with everything -- though he does wish I would put more time and effort into what I went to Los Angeles for in the first place: a career as an actor.

I had a lot of down time to think about that too in Indiana. I feel like I have listened to too many people's opinions and lost sight of my own dreams, my own hopes and goals. You hear so many people tell you, "Mr. Perfect doesn't exist," or "It's nearly impossible for you to achieve your dreams," and you start to believe it. And when you start to believe it, you start to stray from the path you cut out as your own. You stray from your true self. At least, I know I have. I have settled for less in my careers, my relationships and my friendships in the past few years, thinking, "Well, maybe this is it. Maybe this is all there is."

And you know what? Maybe this IS all there is! But it's more important for me to be able to look back at the end of my life and say, "I gave it my best shot and never lost sight of my dreams."