Monday 29 April 2013

This Man's Evolutionary Revolution


If I am able to embrace the idea that “there are no coincidences” which is my belief – then it should come as no surprise to me that my twenty six years of spiritual exploration (which has reached crescendo in the last four and a half years to be a nearly full – time pursuit) is combining with what some deem, the age of “mid-life” crisis to create the perfect storm of existential angst.
However “knowing” this (even just having some idea) is not in itself, a lasting source of comfort – the state of being known as “dark night of the soul” is far more than the anecdotal experience that I have read about in the writings of some of histories mystics. I’m living it – this is not some abstraction, it is real.

My personal research tells me that it can be embraced as a golden opportunity for growth and development or a portal of personal destruction. Needless to say I don’t relish the latter, though the former presents to me as perhaps the single-most ongoing call for courage I have ever faced.


I recently had the opportunity to participate in a weekend long transformational gathering that was entirely run by and for men. From this experience I have learned that rites of passage, ceremony, initiation, mentorship and a place of belonging, which in other cultures are provided within a circle of men (again, for men) are sadly lacking (particularly in North America). This indeed represents my experience – there was male presence in my life growing up – though they simply modeled and perpetuated what they had learned from the men in their lives. My dad was frequently absent – due to a career as a musician in a military band. Which meant this often left my mother to look after my sister and myself. This has left me at a loss as to what defines “healthy masculinity.” This is nobodies fault – in fact I now am accountable for how the realities of my life – were used by me, to create my “stories.”


During the weekend there was plenty of opportunity to witness men holding space for men to fully express any and all feelings that were coming up for them. As the weekend unfolded I too was given the chance to express myself through the various processes and any and all feelings were welcomed – to me this was extraordinary! I was both exhilarated to connect with myself in this way and felt a profound sadness that this disconnection had been so long-standing.


Mine is a history that didn’t include an environment that was conducive to me clearly establishing my own identity. Some of the internal conflict then, comes with the realization that my life has been shaped by constraints and self-perceptions internalized from my past, many but not necessarily all, with respect to myself, as man.

For me this is a serious issue with a myriad of complexities – I will find no solace in a “little red corvette.” Part of my journey has included recovery from addictions – I therefore realize the futility of external “fixes” – no matter what form they might take. This is an emptiness that will not be filled by following the crowd – I have found no lasting contentment in attempts to console myself that my resignation, mediocrity and restlessness are not unlike that of many others. I’m also not suggesting I’m better than others, I do know, I am capable of far more than what I once believed possible  - I also know I can’t not know, what I now know, I can’t continue to play the ignorance card. There is freedom in this – as well, joy and excitement.  There is also an awareness of a finite lifetime (at least as far as the physical realm is concerned) and a price to pay for my incessant seeking of the truth – they say “ the truth will set you free.” I know this to be correct – I would also say that the truth taunts me, challenges me, is relentless and appears to me to be unwilling to negotiate. This doesn’t mean I wield my truth in a non-caring manner, without compassion – however, ignoring it doesn’t seem to be an option either. 

At times this feels like some sort of “Pandora’s box,” I wonder about the wisdom of opening the door. I also know deeply the “cost” of trying to live the truth of others, whether it’s family or cultural expectations and the profound loneliness of a life lacking in authenticity – all dishonesty begins with me, lying to myself first, then others, resulting in my remaining unseen & unheard.


I think I at one time had a romantic notion of what it meant to be conscious, enlightened, awake – in many moments I prefer the journey to that of the alternative. Still from time to time I clamour and long for the “snooze button.”

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