I don’t know what it is about a bonfire, but it makes guys chatty.
A couple of months ago me and some of the boys from my super exclusive monastic fraternity built a fire near the pond. It was bone-crackingly cold outside, and it didn’t take long for all but a few of us to head back inside. (“Nice asceticism, losers!”)
That’s when a perennial bonfire topic came up: women.
In the interest of privacy, prudence, and court orders that violate my First Amendment rights, I won’t go into too much detail, but I’ll say this: it was G-rated and…tender. Yes. I said tender.
You wouldn’t think that such an adjective would apply to a group of men gathering around an open flame talking about women, but…it does.
I believe I was the one who asked the young, newer monk about his thoughts on leaving women behind. He made it clear that he was a normal, healthy American male who was very happy with his vocation. But, he said, if he struggled with anything, it wasn’t leaving sex behind (he had been married), it was the presence of a woman. He would sort of miss spending intimate time out in public, walking down the street with a woman, his hand resting on her back…
Another man, a visitor like me who had been married, said the same. He’s considering monastic life now, but he would potentially miss time spent watching movies with a woman, going out, just working around the house together, etc.
A couple of months later, in a different context, a buddy was telling me about his marital troubles. He checks most of the boxes women say they require of a man, but his wife has checked out. She’s bitter and resentful. My friend said he missed his friend. His friend.
Yet another man I know whose marriage has become a hydrogen-fueled bonfire, whose wife is actually unfaithful, said he missed her presence. What kills him is that she’s giving her self, her “essence,” if you want, to other men.
I personally know probably 20 men stuck in torturous marriages who would almost settle for at least some kind words and encouragement from their wives in lieu of sex. It’s never just about “getting laid.”
I realized after running into this sentiment a dozen times or so that I’d stumbled into something. It wasn’t just that “men want that intimate, emotional connection, too.” That’s fairly obvious. Rather, it was about the narrative that we’ve not only accepted about ourselves, but that we’ve inflicted on ourselves. We “only want one thing.”
The abattoir of the modern dating landscape does nothing but inflict more carnage on our own perceptions of ourselves. Men who might otherwise rise above and seek authentic love and relationships see no point in trying anymore. They’re painted as useless at best, and predators at worst. (I’ve personally been called both and a few things in between.) It’s what gives the so-called “red pill” movement it’s ideological fuel. Women are evil, they conclude, so we might as well take advantage of their one objective “benefit.”
I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit over the last couple of years. That last nine months and five days in particular. What I’m seeing over and over again is that it’s just one of the narratives we’ve accepted about ourselves, mostly unconsciously, and all of them together have laid waste to men’s lives.
More than that, we’ve been led to believe that the antidote to these emasculating narratives is even worse. The usual word is “toxic.”
I’ve taken on a strange new role lately. Call it “buddy counseling.” I’ve basically been either just a friendly ear or I’ve helped to peel guys off the floor of the smoking craters their lives now inhabit. It’s well beyond my comfort zone or area of expertise. But by the principle that we always know what other people should do, I’ve been leaning into it.
I have no certifications and no interest in getting any. However, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt what most of us men need. It’s purpose, mission, and the confidence and power necessary to execute on them. But before that, they need to snatch up in their arms the whole lot of bullshit ideologies gelding them, walk to them to the starboard side of the ship, and toss them over. Flip them a double-bird salute as they burble down into the wake behind us.
That’s the start.
It’s simple, but not easy. We live and breathe these ideologies. We assume them. We presume them. We hobble ourselves with them until, when the great battles of life arrive, we are so denuded of courage and confidence that we, like our ancient ancestor Adam, go along with whatever evils are asked of us just to avoid a little conflict.
Choosing something…other…is almost literally inconceivable.
But as I tell my buddies and the other guys mysteriously coming across my path, there is most definitely another way. We can choose to stand up, lead ourselves, our families and communities. We don’t have to apologize for being who and what we are—in fact, (assuming it’s done with authentic virtue) it’s our duty to, well, be MEN.
I think a lot of men are waiting for permission to rise above. To stand up and stand for the things they know are right. Even those of us who have consciously been trying to do this our entire lives still fall into the permission trap. We boldly stay within the lines drawn for us by our enemies, yawping our battle cries to only those who already agree with us…
But I’m getting off track. ;-)
Men do want certain things. With our women, we want friendship, intimacy, and you better believe we want that. More than that, though, we want a kingdom for our tribes. We want clear lines between good and evil, and we want to build our kingdoms in the light.
We just have to step out of this infernal script first.
Many of us men will not be taking monastic vows, but will be choosing celibacy as the best option for the present times.
There is a very interesting thread to pickup on permissiveness/Leading (or not), and the Garden of Eden… worth a further rumination…