Day 194
As I approach the big 4-0, I can't help but think of all the clothes I have worn along the way, especially those of major significance to my life.
When I was just 4 years old, I wore a cute little suit to my sister Laura's wedding. As the ring bearer, my family knew all eyes would be on me during my procession up the aisle at church, so I had to look my best. Later on, I wore a special suit bought for me to wear on my First Holy Communion day in 1983.
Similar suits or combinations of jackets and khakis were bought for me for my Confirmation Day, elementary school graduation, and eventually my high school graduation too.
In 1993, I went to a tailor with my future Assistant Novice Master, who helped me get fitted for two new suits I'd wear during my four years as a Roman Catholic monk. The simple black suit and black tie were mine then for years, and I wore the simple black suit as my religious habit every day at Manhattan College. It was the habit I wore for my Aspirancy Promises my first year, and later again when I took the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Wherever I went during those four years as Brother Sean, I wore my suit as a representative of the entire Roman Catholic Church, whether I enjoyed that responsibility or not.
In 2003, when I began to seriously involve myself in GLBT activism, I began wearing all kinds of suits--perhaps not the traditional jacket-and-tie variety, but other shirts, jackets, and insignia of all kinds that told the world once again that I represented something much bigger than myself. As I worked with local, national, and international pride groups of all sizes, I became the face of these GLBT community groups, and represented gay people everywhere.
By 2008 and 2009, I was wearing yet another suit, a simple blue jacket with a bright, yellow label that read, "Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol". It instantly made people stop in their tracks, and they'd stare at me in disbelief. Whether it was at Notre Dame University in Indiana or in Fargo, North Dakota, I was recognized as representing something much bigger than myself.
Throughout my life, I've worn these suits and insignias proudly. I've walked down the city streets of this world--in Rome, New York, and Washington, D.C. among others--and I've been a representative of something much bigger than myself. I have represented Publishers Clearing House, the entire Roman Catholic Church, and the entirety of the GLBT community too, all by the suits I've worn.
What suits have you worn, and which ones do you wear now? Are you recognized by your work as a librarian, doctor, or teacher just by the clothes you wear? How much do you identify with your field or fields of expertise by the clothes of the job?
Life changes, as do we. We may wear one suit one day, and quite another just a year later. But one thing never changes: the person we are inside.
You choose your suits throughout your lifetime, and none of them are yours your whole life long, but they can make you see through the eyes of something much bigger than yourself. And really, that's a great gift. Thinking big by seeing through something bigger than ourselves is an honor, and provides unique perspective in all things. It fits our lives like a jacket, and suits us in our journey.
