Jack Out of the Box

I believe it safe to say that if I was granted an audience long enough, and without a specific theme just jammed (I know of spoken word performances peripherally, but have no idea if what I'm about to propose, is already contained within that oral form), I'm pre-supposing that the current voiced expressions are rehearsed, mine would not be, I suppose it could be called a spoken stream of consciousness - eventually most everyone would have me pigeon-holed in a variety of "ism's" and "archy's." I'm not suggesting I'm exempt from their influence - as all humanity is in the the same stew-pot, I'm not sure that anyone comes out without having been marinated in all of it. I further suppose it is then up to each to examine for themselves how they hold themselves in relation to any of it, at any given time.

I've never been a card carrying member of any of these paradigms in as much as I am not inclined to use any of these labels as a means of introducing myself. I suppose this is partially true because a significant portion of my life was lacking in an solid sense of identity, at least that was my story, later I would come to realize - "one with no identity" was part of my identity, or at least part of what I identified with. My adolescence was spent drifting throughout the various sub-categories of the student population: "jocks," "heads" (a semantically modified label for the more stigmatized "druggie") "geeks," I'm not sure there was specifically a "popular" group that existed independently of the other groups - I perceived that some from each of the other categories seemed to hold varying degrees of "popularity," in my mind I had the unique distinction of being rejected across the board). Believe me when I tell you I am reticent to label anyone, knowing the pain this exclusion and intolerance creates - for the sake of this continued reminiscing metaphor, I will continue emphasizing that my perception was that I was a "geek" a social outcast, a teenage pariah even among the geeks. How the hell is that even possible?

I wish to muse upon the paradigm of patriarchy - but first another anecdote from my "formative years" at high school (though I guess many schools of though suggest the die is cast significantly earlier than that). It was during P.E. class. Ironic that there is any inference to wellness bestowed upon this class given the emotional carnage it piles in its wake. The activity du jour was to be "wrestling." The sadist of a gym teacher was "in charge" of pairing us off for the subsequent "bouts."
"Bouts" was a stupid word - what "about" interest, what "about" experience/skill-level, what "about" attending the next class? I was "matched" with this orangutan that wrestled on the school team, the sum total of my experience was trying daily, to wrestle my dignity out of the sewer. Seriously what the hell can possibly be gained in such activities? Anyway, the whistle blows signifying the beginning of the end. Very few options exist in the ensuing moments, though completely contrary to any rational thought, facing this dude head on occurs like less agony than just running right out of the circle and out the door. Okay "Tarzan" let's do this. Maybe this was a classic living representation of yin and yang, him seemingly intent on dishing out some serious pain and me more embodying something of the quest for survival. In very short order he has me in this rib-cage demolishing bear hug and my "flight" is soon proved to succumb inevitably to his "fight" - literally. Close as I can remember, it's difficult to accurately assess such eventualities from the perspective of the "throw cushion." I believe, he picked me straight up and then dove with the two of us adjoined, me becoming increasingly aware of what a rodent in the grips of a python must feel like, the impact instantaneously accordioned what remained of any air in my lungs and I'm sure most effectively broke his fall, leaving him unscathed. Not that the "bout" to that point was very taxing on Godzilla just the same, I'm sure at that point, the requisite three count pinning of me to the mat, didn't cause him any excessive energy expenditure. The whistle blows and the teacher yells next bout. I'm lying there dazed wondering where the next breath is coming from and this asshole wants more blood?

"Come on Mason clear the mat!" 
"Yes of course, by all means, let's not let my massacred physical form clutter the friggin' mat!" I got up and moved to the periphery of the circle to the chorus of snickers and outright guffaws! Once I could breath and subsequently talk, I managed an attempted face-saving smart-ass retort, "ya had him right where I wanted him!" If only that was to be the last of the humiliation I was to be dished up that day!

After a series of other matches, much to my surprise/disgust I hear my name being called again this time I'm matched with a fellow that might possibly have absorbed more abuse through school than me - in that cess-pool of "dog-eat-dog," I likely kicked him when he was down on some occasion rather than be the target myself. At any rate, I thought -"well at least I can vindicate myself!" That would turn out to be one of the more fateful erroneous assumptions I would make. The whistle blew and the two of us collided in a frenzy of arms and hands, grasping for a useful purchase with which one of us could use to topple the other. We both hit the mat and continued to grapple for the upper hand. I soon began to realize this "geek" was friggin' strong - he either was "fighting for his life" or right at this point, all the collective ridicule gelled and created the perfect storm of power, aimed at vengeance. For the love of God why now? Our tussling resulted in him pretzeling me in some fashion and much to my horror I couldn't break free. I knew nothing of energy conservation in such scenarios at this point, so I just panicked and gave my all, in one last attempt to escape the three count and much more gravely, the absolute mortification of being bested by the class "geek." Clearly on that day fate had spoken, the kingdom of Geekdom had a new monarch!

Not necessarily an incident that was of itself a standout experience - it and any number of others were the sort of self-image influencing fodder that prepared me to step out into the world where as the years rolled on I was to hear with increasing regularity -"it's a man's world." Though I didn't chose to engage the debate - I often went away thinking, how in God's name do you figure that?

Now eventually - through insight and self-education I began to realize that there certainly existed conditions where I could be afforded various "advantages" based on my gender. I'm certainly not saying that's right, it had nothing to do with merit and though I might have believed at some points in time, that I never really "capitalized" on it, I would also have to say that there are untold numbers of things that I wouldn't have been aware of due to absolutely never, having to fight for them or experiencing the denial of them based on my gender.

Needless to say there are endless treatise on "patriarchy" I don't imagine that I will necessarily break any new ground, other than to share my experience of living in it, contributing to it and walking a healing path, despite the continued influence of it on the world around me. I don't know if the stereo-typical male persona created partriarchy or vice versa. All I can say is that it damned near was the death of me (well before my time) or at least well before the time that I have subsequently been afforded.

It seems to me that by and large there is a widely held assumption that women are the only ones negatively impacted - without question this impact is widespread, misguided, and unacceptable. I just watched a brave young women from Ireland on a YouTube post share her story of violence at the hand of her spouse, her choice to get herself to safety which results in her now being a single mother of two young children - I know this story is far too common. Violence is not something anyone should have to experience. How then to introduce the reality that statistically, men are more likely to die of violent causes than women? I am not trying to position one over the other - it is not a competition. I just don't happen to believe that any solutions can be found in further divisiveness. My personal experience is that mindsets and continued behaviour that operates along, "us and them" lines (whatever the sub-categories are comprised of) leads to violence, they are in their divisiveness, intolerance and exclusion - violent! In order to hold this to be true one would need to broaden the definition of violence to include collective oppression and generalized acceptance of "role" expectations that severely compromise people emotionally, mentally and spiritually (not just physically).

I'm not suggesting that I'm about to advance the solution to the whole matter nor do I wish to over-simplify and thereby leave any vital elements unaddressed. I am just adding to the conversation. Neither gender has the monopoly on perpetuating stereotypes. Given the suggested broadened definition of violence previously mentioned, no one gender can claim to have the sole ownership on victim or perpetrator. These are conditions that are prevalent at the very least in part, because of a collective lack of personal responsibility resulting in continued entrenched blaming and reinforcement of the walls of divisiveness. If as Einstein suggested "a problem cannot be solved at the same level it is created" then the "growing pains" of humanity will not be resolved at the consciousness level they were created and are proliferated, which suggests to me the sooner a tipping point is reached in realizing "we" are all in this together the better.

Returning to my own story - I consider the negative reinforcement of anything viewed to be remotely feminine as a young man, the indoctrination begins early. Breaching these "social agreements" can and does, have severe consequences. So pray tell how does a young boy grow to embody such qualities as empathy, compassion and intuition (all of which are numbered as feminine qualities) when to do so can invite social and emotional crucifixion. Even though each gender embodies a blend of both masculine and feminine - trust me when I tell you, I can't say how others weathered it, but I saw no choice but to deeply repress, vilify and hate anything about myself that would seemingly incite the kind of rejection visited upon a boy that doesn't measure up and "Man up!" To spin this scenario further - if it is true that in order to love another, one must love themselves first (that would be both the masculine and the feminine within) then how does anyone suppose that if we accept to be true, my hetereosexuality - therefore an "attraction" to women, how well is that really going to go with all this unhealed disdain for the feminine within me, which until it (if ever) is recognized I would project outwardly.

I am presenting as one that is in the process of taking personal responsibility which affords me the relative comfort to allow transparency of my process and insights along the way. I have no idea where it is all going - I am not suggesting my experience specifically mirrors those of all men. As I suggested earlier humanity is in the same collective stew pot but the variants to that human experience, are apt to be located diversely, represented by various positions on gradients of responses and variations in consciousness (if such things could be measured).

Additional variables in my story include adoption, being placed in a home where there was a mother with overt and covert anger toward men, which, prompted me to learn to compromise myself further to try and win approval in that environment as well. If one embarks into the world and has made decisions that both the masculine and the feminine are what continue to invite the pain of rejection upon him - let me tell ya, it doesn't leave much of a leg to stand on. I have read some of the post-mortem analysis on some of those mass-shootings and not for a moment, do I condone, or wish to dismiss, the pain and suffering brought to the families of the victims, or for that matter, the family of the individual responsible - but I do understand. For better or for worse my anger and self-contempt were more frequently turned inward, which is not to say that my temper hasn't been the cause of violence directed outward. That it almost exclusively has taken the form of raging diatribe neither diminishes it's impact or makes it any less a form of violence.  I'm not trying to quantify my pain or even suggest my story is unique, surely over the millennium the themes have been repeated countless times. The narratives of human consciousness I believe are what uphold suffering. If it was more consistently recognized that suffering is suffering - it is not more or less in terms of intensity, it is not more or less acceptable based on the stories that suggest, one group of humanity over another, "deserve" to suffer more greatly.

Maybe my life contribution will be not much more than an end to my own suffering - but whose to say what the ripple effect of that might be? There is no particular virtue in my coming to know myself - nor the paths I have walked in order to do so. I wanted the pain to stop and I have enjoyed incremental and expanding grace that increasingly raises my belief that it is possible.

I take responsibility for my healing I don't take credit for it. I take responsibility for my part of the collective suffering of humanity, but I no longer take credit for all it.