This is the second of three articles by PositiveLite.com writers on “what undetectable means to me.” Read Bob Leahy’s earlier take on this topic here.  Wayne Bristow will follow later this week.

Three months after I started anti-retroviral therapy (ART), I got a call from my doctor. Even though my next appointment with him was still a week away, he phoned me because he wanted to give me the good news right away. My lab results had just come back showing that my HIV viral load had reached an undetectable level.

He was excited for me and I was excited myself. Why? Because the goal of HIV treatment is to reduce the amount of virus in the blood to a level so low that it cannot be detected by the standard tests. Being “undetectable” confirmed that ART was working for me. HIV had been stopped in its tracks; it’d been defeated in its attempts to damage my immune system. It was a milestone that I celebrated that day and continue to celebrate because my periodic viral load tests still come back undetectable. 

Reaching this status was a personal demonstration in my own life of what everyone had been saying in recent years. That, thanks to ART, HIV is different now. It’s no longer the death sentence it once was but is, instead, a chronic, communicable disease that can be controlled by medication.

This is a big deal as far as I’m concerned. I’m of the generation that was most affected by the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s and early 1990s. The majority of my peers, gay guys  in the prime of their lives, were either dead or dying. At that time, there was no treatment that could have saved them. I was one of the lucky ones in that I didn’t become infected at that time, but to this day I still grieve the loss of those men - my friends, colleagues, loved ones, drinking buddies and sex partners.

Many years later, as the result of some decisions I made that I now regret, I became HIV-positive myself. But, because of the anti-HIV drugs that are now available, I’m not going to die of AIDS like my friends did 15 or 25 years ago. Rather I’m going to live the kind of active, healthy life that they could only have dreamed of. Achieving an undetectable viral load is a marker of that expectation.  

I’m fortunate in that I was diagnosed early, have access to ART and am the patient of a knowledgeable and caring physician. It was he who advised me to go on ART immediately after my diagnosis because he believes that long term outcomes are better if treatment is started early. Everything I’ve subsequently read and learned confirms that belief. On top of that, I tolerate my drugs so well that I could go from one day to another not thinking about HIV at all (except that my role as assistant editor of PositiveLite.com won’t allow me to do that!).

For many others, however, having a chronic illness such as HIV can be exhausting, unpredictable and isolating. Finding good care and treatment may be hard. And having HIV can, all too commonly, be fraught with stigma and discrimination. Meanwhile, other HIVers of my generation are long-term survivors who often suffer significant side effects and damage to their bodies caused by the toxicity of an earlier generation of anti-HIV drugs. So celebrating my own good fortune is tempered by this knowledge.  

That having been said though, having an undetectable viral load provides me with a positive sense of being in good health with good long-term health outcomes. Baring a cure, I anticipate dying with HIV, not of it.

The status of being “undetectable” also gives me a sense of positive self-esteem and emotional well-being. I’m not diseased. What I have is a well-managed, chronic illness. It’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s part of the human condition.

This, in turn, has enabled me to feel good about being out of the closet, as it were, with respect to my HIV status. Proudly labelling myself, as I do, an HIV-positive gay man is a profoundly liberating experience. People can see that I’m healthy, enjoying life and contributing to the community through volunteer work (if I hadn’t reached the age of retirement, I’d still be working) and that’s allowed me to become a role model of sorts.

One of the most important outcomes for me of having an undetectable viral load is that it’s lessened the burden of worrying about infecting others when I have sex. A number of recent research studies have demonstrated that, with certain caveats, a person taking HIV treatment with an undetectable viral load in their blood should not be considered sexually infectious. Indeed, Julio Montaner, one of Canada’s and the world’s most respected HIV scientists, has publicly gone so far, in an exclusive interview with PositiveLite.com, to state that he’s “very comfortable that [ART] is at least as protective - or more - than condoms”.  

From this knowledge comes my desire to focus my energies on fighting against the criminalization of HIV non-disclosure. Because those of us who do what we have always been taught to do and wear a condom when we should or if we have an undetectable viral load - or both - don’t pose, in the words of the current law, a “significant risk” of infecting our sexual partners. What we do have, however, is a responsibility to protect our own health while not harming the health of others. That applies whether we’re HIV-positive or HIV-negative or don’t know our status. 

So, to summarize. I realize I’m privileged and don’t represent every HIVer out there, but I rejoice in my “undetectable” status. It allows me to live an active, healthy life with the expectation that, when the time comes, it’ll be old age not HIV that I’ll die of. It gives me a sense of emotional well-being that enables me to be proudly poz and to give back to the communities to which I belong. And it lessens the worry of infecting those with whom I have sex. For all these reasons, I feel blessed to have an undetectable viral load. As I said at the beginning, it’s a status that I celebrate every day.

In late September of 2010, while walking my dog with a friend along the banks of the Harlem River in Manhattan's Inwood Hill Park, my life was changed forever. In a shocking moment right out of 'Law and Order', I came upon a dead body floating face-down in the water. That experience alone was quite traumatic, without a doubt. But little did I know just how traumatic and life-altering it would turn out to be.

You see, that lifeless body in the water turned out to be young Tyler Clementi, the Rutgers University student who took his own life by leaping off the George Washington Bridge. Learning the identity of that man’s body hit me like a thunderbolt. It was as though the universe itself was trying to send me a message, telling me that there was a role I needed to play in this tragedy.  Since then, I have felt it my duty as a gay man to do anything and everything I can possibly do to raise awareness for the serious problem of, not just anti-LGBT bullying and its repercussions, but the insidious homophobia behind it.

On the eve of a tribute walk just a few weeks later across that bridge from which Tyler Clementi ended his life, I came to a realization that I still find fascinating and frightening. I’ve tweeted; posted on Facebook; written blog posts; wrote to Rutgers University’s president; been interviewed by media, including a journalist for a French TV documentary and quoted in The New Yorker magazine’s recent story about Tyler Clementi in my little crusade against homophobia and the toll it's taking on all of us, but mostly LGBT youth.  Throughout all of that and in turn the incredible show of support I've received from friends, family and total strangers alike, there has been one group of people who seem to be “sitting this one out”.

Though I’ve talked to a few who are genuinely troubled, men —specifically, straight men — don’t seem to want to speak very loudly, if at all, on this issue. Now, I’m not trying to over-generalize; I’ve gotten some wonderfully supportive messages from a few straight guys. Most certainly from Led Black, the editor of The Uptown Collective, an online magazine covering news and issues in my local neighborhood of Upper Manhattan. He wrote a great piece that I would love for you to read in which he speaks passionately to this issue. But, just ONE straight man out of hundreds in my social network and circle of friends feels as strongly about changing this awful condition? I simply refuse to believe that's the case.

This is an observation, not judgment. And I’m not subconsciously seeking approval from straight men either. Trust me: I have ranted, cried, screamed, and spoken about this issue and will continue to do so whether any straight people like it or not. I have to wonder though: are these men feeling guilty? Do they fear possibly being labeled as gay themselves for speaking up? Why do I not see more of them upset and concerned, or hear them talking about all of this? To me, this seems to be the clearest indication of just how deeply homophobia is entrenched in our culture. Personally, I know a lot of really wonderful, caring straight men, so I feel certain that they DO hurt for kids like Tyler who've lost all hope that "It Gets Better".

So...why do I all this? Why, after more than a year am I still talking about Tyler Clementi and my experience?

Because I will try anything -- EVERYTHING -- to be heard by straight people (especially the men) and make them understand: You simply MUST get involved. I know you don’t want to see kids in pain like this. Homophobia isn’t a gay problem, nor is it a straight problem — it’s a HUMAN problem. That being said, I truly believe the change in how it affects kids lies with you, straight people. Kids will continue dying — YOUR kids.  I’ve taken on this crusade to fight for LGBT youth because I was personally affected by one young man's senseless, tragic death but, frankly, it’s not mine to fight.

No, this fight is really yours, straight men. You are the key. I don’t know exactly what’s stopping you from joining the battle, but I’m here to tell you: it is never seen as weak or “gay” to save kids' lives.  It’s seen as compassion, as caring, and as love…love that comes from Fathers, Brothers, Grandsons, Uncles, Sons.

This article first appeared on Swish, the blog of a gay-straight alliance fighting for the equality of LGBT families, co-workers and loved ones.

Jim Swimm is a forty-year-old Texan transplant in New York City: Gay, HIV+ and simply trying to make the world a better place... “ ‘cause I’m a superhero like that”. You can follow him on Twitter @Jims_Whim

As we stride into 2012, it’s time to reflect on our connections to the world.  Deep within the psyche our thoughts transcend to the conscious, sub-consciousness and super- conscious mind.  In some circles it is known as the divine incarnate within us.

There is a saying in Sanskirt, “Tat tvam asi.”  It means “That art thou,” or "You are that, I am that." It means we all are of the one source; we are of everything and nothing. Tat tvam asiis found in the Upanishads, and refers to our experience of "identity" with Brahman.  Brahman is the one supreme universal spirit.  When we can see Brahman in all things, the basis for our love of others is that they also are one with Brahman. I have spent many years contemplating this concept.  

In this article, I have chosen to portray the spiritual and religious essence of our being through the writing and spiritual experiences of five gay/queer men. These men have made remarkable strides in gay spirituality and LGBT rights.  They are leaders and visionaries and have contributed immensely to the body of work for queer communities.  They have opened the doors to gently nudge us into exploring a deeper sense of our belonging in the mystical world of spirituality and sensuality, be it western or eastern.   Their literary works, spiritual wisdom and journeys speak to the core of who we are.  They are: Joey Crinita, Christopher Isherwood, Richard Albert (Ram Dass), Mark Thompson and Andrew Harvey.

I write of contemporary gay western mystics. The oldest queer mystic that I have ever read about is the Sufi mystic Shah Hussain who fell in love with a Hindu man Madho Lal in the 16^th century in Pakistan. Hussain expressed his love by adopting his friend's name. He would call himself Madho Lal Hussain. His poetry remains popular and millions throng his grave at the Mughal era garden, Shalamar Bagh, in Lahore, to celebrate Mela Charaghan (the Festival of Lights) every March.” Hundreds of years later their love for each other is still celebrated in Pakistan. Sufi Islam is the mystical sect of Islam.  

Joey Crinita, Our very own Canadian gay spiritualist and mystic, I have had the privilege of knowing Joey for over 20 years. He has been instrumental in sharing spiritual and esoteric knowledge, meditation techniques, and in bringing an understanding of religion to many in the gay, lesbian, bi and trans communities.  Joey’s warmth and kindness interjects a spiritual force that invites the seeker into knowing  and understanding his or her place in this world.  Joey latest book This Medium’s Life speaks of his growing years as a young gay men and finding religion and God. The book is available via amazon.com. His other books include, The Medium Touch, A New Approach to Mediumship, From Chains to Wings, The Journey Into Spirit and Healing Poems of Spirit.

Christopher Isherwood His novel spawned the movie A Single Man. He also spent close to three decades learning from Swami Prabhavananda in India, learning spirituality, religion and the God within.  He also translated the  book Sermon on the Mountain –based on Christ`s teachings.  Swami Prabhavananda was a follower of Shri RamaKrishna who embodied God-like experiences on earth.  Christopher was told by Swami Prabhavananda to see God in his lover/partner. It was a challenge for Christopher as it would be for most of us mortals.  Christopher`s other contributions to spiritual writing include, Bhagavad Gita, The Song of God, by Prabhavananda and Isherwood;  Vedanta for Modern Man (1945); Ramakrishna and His Disciples; Essentials of Vedanta; My Guru and His Disciple,

Ram Dass I used to listen to Ram Dass talks and his readings and it never dawned on me he was gay until much later. His birth name was Richard Albert.  He was a professor of psychology at Harvard University, worked at Yale University and Stanford.  He is one of the most enlightened contemporary spiritual leaders of our time and well known for his working relationship with Dr. Timothy Leary. He is also the author of the best seller, Remember, Be Here Now.  

During the 80’s Richard was going through his own spiritual search.  His quest for spiritual knowledge was intense. With few teachers available, he traveled to India in 1967 and there he met Bhagavan Das,

Bhagavan guided “Richard barefoot from temple to temple, and began teaching him basic mantras (sacred chants) and asanas (yoga postures), as well as how to work with spiritual beads.   After a few months, Bhagavan Das led Richard to his guru, Neem Karoli Baba (also known as Maharaj-ji) at the foothills of the Himalayas.  Maharaj-ji soon became Richard’s guru and gave him the name "Ram Dass," which means "servant of Lord Rama." Under the guidance of Maharaj-ji, Ram Dass was instructed to receive teaching from Hari Dass Baba, who taught in silence using only a chalkboard.”   

A good story on the power or lack of LSD: Richard realized he had met a special human being in Hari Dass Baba. He came to appreciate Hari Dass Baba even more, “the day Baba asked him about the tiny pieces of paper he was eating.  “LSD, Richard responded.”  Baba replied, “Give me some.” Baba took 915 micrograms of LSD (the average dose is 50 to 70 micrograms). He waited with interest for the outcome of the acid trip his teacher was about to have. But he observed with astonishment, the acid didn’t change Baba. The LSD had no effect on him.  Baba lived in an expanded state of consciousness that the drugs temporarily created for Richard.  He knew he had found the map-reader to teach him the mysteries he longed to understand.  These life changing experiences in India inspired Ram Dass to write the contemporary spiritual classic, Remember, Be Here Now.  Richard teaches that everyone is a manifestation of God and that every moment is of infinite significance. For an e-copy of the classic book, see here and his website.

There are numerous videos online on addiction, relationships and love, by Ram Dass. Here is one on Talking About Being Gay, Being Soul Friends, and Just Being. 

Mark Thompson, A writer who embodies the spiritual gay essence.  In the late 1980’s I had just read The Gay Spirit: Myth and Meaning by Mark. I was so moved by the jewels of wisdom in the book that I called Mark then when he worked at the Advocate.  It was a book that truly touched my soul and what it meant to be queer.

Mark interviewed Ram Dass in 1994 about being gay for his second book The Gay Soul: Finding the Heart of Gay Spirit and Nature.   Most people in the spiritual/ meditative communities who knew of Ram Dass did not know he was gay. Likewise many in the gay community had never heard of Ram Dass.  Mark’s third book in the trilogy was Gay Body: A Journey Through Shadow to Self. Through the books I heard about the Radical Faeries, a group that still exists today. You will read about Harry Hay, the founder of the first gay political group on gay rights and founder of Gay Pride. Harry’s vision of Gay Pride was spiritual; I wonder what he would say of Gay Pride now.  

In an excerpt from the Gay Body, we read about the archetype of queer love - the Double. “We see the Double overtly reflected in the deeds of men who have bonded together for the sake of achievement.” “The Double is one the most important and ascendant elements within a gay male psyche.”  “Myths are sacred time. Myths are pertinent to psychological understanding ……..”  "They transcend the daily condition of our life and take us to another world.  Sometimes it even holds promise of a better way. ”   

Andrew Harvey My previous partner gave me a cassette titled, Gay Mysticism: Ecstasy and Transfiguration through Divine Love. Listening to Andrew’s spiritual awakening via eros was mind blowing and when he talked of his vision it was addictive.  Even more coincidentally, it had all happened on his return to India.  Andrew was born in India and left for the west and returned to India. While in India, he had intense spiritual/religious experiences that solidified his yearning of a gay religious sense of being.  When I read of his experiences it opened the doors in my own being and sense of identity that I intuitively understood. His experiences validated and deepened my beliefs.    

In his new book The Hope: a Guide to Sacred Activism, he defines Sacred Activism as “a force of compassion in action destined to midwife the birth of a new humanity able to co-create with the Divine a new world.”  More writing by Andrew at Institute for Sacred Activism,

It is my hope that each of us delve a little deeper into our soul to search for our place in this universe and make this a better and happier world. Blessings. 

There are few issues about which I feel more strongly than HIV/AIDS awareness and I take my advocacy/activism quite seriously, for a variety of reasons both globally-effective and intimately personal. I've found Twitter to be a fantastic resource for me in finding individuals, charity organizations, and hospitals/research centers to educate myself, lend support, and a million other uses when it comes to the disease. I cannot recommend it enough in this regard.

But...there's a downside, of course. For all of the people out there trying to educate, inform, and enrich life for everyone, there are just as many ignorant, corrupt, and hateful folks.

So -- one of the people I follow on Twitter (whose tweets are normally hilarious) posted a joke, a joke about HIV. Now, I firmly believe none of us should ever take ourselves so seriously that we can't find something to laugh at ourselves about, even if that laughter is in response to something as dire as illness, death, or catastrophe of some kind. I'm not saying I'm gonna do a 10-minute set of my best blond jokes at your funeral, but I have experienced the cathartic release of laughing at something truly devastating as a means of coping.

The tweet made me curious though; just how far would I be willing to go for a healing laugh? Are there certain subjects that are strictly verboten in any and every setting, or just around me personally?

With that in mind, I started digging around in the Twitterverse searching through thousands of tweets, and links, and blog posts for HIV/AIDS jokes. Believe me, there are A LOT and some of them are so repugnant I wouldn't even dream of sharing them here. Take my word for it, OK?

But the jokes are just that -- jokes. In bad taste? Of course! Not suitable for sharing in mixed company? Most definitely! But there is still an underlying intent of humor that cannot be denied, it softens the blow and makes them less painful, at least to me. But there's a lot of other talk going on out there, besides jokes and the tweets for doing good when it comes to HIV/AIDS. I'd like to share a tweet that stopped me dead in my tracks and caused me deep pain to even read:

"I feel the same way about people with hiv/aids as the nazi's did about the jews."

Now, all I know about the person who wrote this is that he lives in Iowa, has a wife/girlfriend, and generally likes to go out hunting, fishing and drinking with his buddies. I have no idea if there's some context that I'm missing, or if there's some extenuating circumstance that's not easily seen nor any of my business. But that doesn't change how I feel about it, right? Nor should it, if it's posted in a public forum such as it is.

The fact of the matter is, this young man (at least, that's what he looked like in his avatar photo) put this kind of ignorant hatred out into the world. Whether he believes it or not, was joking or serious, regrets it or is proud of it...it's there to inflict pain on anyone who reads it. At least, I should say, anyone who has any respect for the persecution and injustice that Jews withstood and suffered at the hands of fascist Nazis, or the pain, illness, and fear that anyone who has HIV or AIDS deals with on a daily-basis.

There are so many instances -- too many -- that emphasize the extremity of the hatred and intolerance that seems to be prevalent throughout our country these days. I know that I might be a tad hyper-sensitive about the whole HIV/AIDS issue, but to glibly liken yourself to a Nazi and their deplorable attempted genocide of the Jewish people?

And in such a sweeping, generalized way? I mean, I'd almost have preferred him saying, "...fags with HIV...", than to so callously throw all people battling this virus into his vile statement! Again...I'm utterly astounded and generally frightened to my core by this.

But that's what drives activism most assuredly, no? To be so affected by something that you feel compelled to action? I genuinely believe that all of us are capable of creating great change in any number of ways, but most definitely by simply sharing our experiences with the people we care about. So, I share this with all of you in hopes that it stirs you to action of some kind in making our world better for us all.

Where does that leave me and my (usually) inappropriate sense of humor then? I could get angry; ranting and raving at every offensive reference to HIV/AIDS, or find another approach. Is it possible to keep my sense of humor while trying to educate and raise awareness?

Let me share the line that started this whole voyage: "I wonder if people with HIV say 'I've got the Magic (Johnson) in me!'?" I think what offended me the most was...it's just not that funny. So, I replied to this tweet with my own: "No, we don't. We'll sometimes say, 'Let's go spread a little Magic!' though. (HIV Stigma isn't very funny, is it?)"

In a similar vein to the "Fighting Fire With Fire" approach, I've decided to combat this type of ignorance with better punch lines, sharper wit, and somewhat sardonic levity. Activism through comedy, if you will. Will I offend some people? Certainly. Will I make some people think about an issue differently? Maybe? I hope so. As they say..."See you in the funny pages!" LOL!

This post originally appeared on The Bilerico Project 

Jim Swimm is a forty-year-old Texan transplant in New York City: Gay, HIV+ and simply trying to make the world a better place... “ ‘cause I’m a superhero like that”. You can follow him on Twitter @Jims_Whim

Last night the significant other and I went to the opera, which is not quite as la-de-da as it sounds. The opera crowd is far more diverse than it used to be. True, there are plenty of middle-aged frumps, and older, but there are also gays aplenty and yes - last night at least, tons of twenty-somethings in tight jeans and black everything. People don’t dress up for it anymore, or a lot don’t, and that’s good, I think. 

Could be the crowd make-up was a reflection of the fact that the big attraction was Tosca.  It’s one of the most approachable operas you’ll find.  Some will say shows like Carmen or La Boheme or Madame Butterfly are the ones to get your opera feet wet. I say nah -  all three border on the tedious. Tosca, on the other hand, has it all.

Want love, lust, jealousy, attempted rape? How about political intrigue, desperate rebels, evil villains, heroic patriots?  Or murder, executions, suicide? In Tosca, they are all here.  And the soprano dies at the end.  So does the hero, and, earlier,  the villain, bloodily too. And because it’s Puccini, all this is conducted against incredibly lush melodies, lovely set pieces for the soprano (before she jumps to her death) and a powerful orchestral score that might just have you humming on the way out.

It’s all hugely melodramatic, of course, which is an operatic convention of sorts that one has to swallow, along with, in this case, a stylized, traditional acting style that may grate.  But Tosca is nevertheless exciting theatre. Act Two in particular will have you on the edge of your seat – a classic battle of good and evil that is written as taut as a drum and sung to the hilt.  That’s in part why I recommend Tosca as a starting point for those new to opera.  Simply put, you won’t be bored. Everything is larger than life, but rooted in human emotions stretched to the breaking point.

I wish I could recommend this particular production more.  The Canadian Opera Company is a reliable source of good opera, often adventurously staged, and this show, at the Four Seasons Centre for the Preforming Arts until February 25, isn’t the latter. It’s very traditionally staged, in fact.  If you’ve ever seen Tosca before, there are no new touches here. That’s not to say it isn’t gorgeous to look at, beautifully sounding  - both vocally and orchestrally - and that the drama quotient is in any way impacted by the lack of directorial risk-taking.  It’s just not one of those departures from standard staging that some love and infuriate others.

Those non-standard interpretations, by the way, are often popular with younger audiences.  I like them too. They can be quite bizarre.  Instead of legions of spear carriers, for instance, you could see these transformed in the director’s vision to packs of Nazi storm-troopers. Sopranos might be sloshing around in knee deep water rather than singing away on the battlements with a horned helmet on their head.  Or  - and we've seen this in Toronto -  swimming in pools of blood.

Back to Tosca. Despite my disappointment that this production does nothing new, it does what it does well.  You’ll likely love the music, be awed by the big scene at the end of Act One which features a cast of thousands and spectacle for days. You’ll be biting your nails wondering whether Tosca will survive the menacing advances of the uber-villain Scarpia   And  - because Puccini’s material is so strong, and it’s difficult to produce a bad production of Tosca, and this one certainly isn’t – you’ll have a good time.

Going to the opera house is a nice experience too.  It’s circa 2006, with a striking minimalist but grand lobby, all blonde woods, glass staircases and big vistas. The hall itself has a classic horseshoe layout that delivers excellent sightlines and great sound.

One thing I didn’t mention that while opera tickets can be pricy, there are incredible deals for those 30 and under. The opera company wants you.  Give them a try.

I’ve written this report for opera newbies. But will more experienced opera-goers like this show? Probably. The production has garnered generally good reviews, though, sometimes with the same kind of reservations I’ve voiced here too.

Tosca runs until February 25 at the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts, Toronto. Buy tickets here.