Meet the men of the community – Matt G

I heard about the ManKind Project from a fellow brother who knew I was in a rut and feeling unfulfilled. He rang me up and said: “I’ve just been on this fantastic weekend where I learnt a lot about myself….I think it might be good for you …. take a look at their website… if you think it’s right for you at this time…register!” After looking at the website and having a think for a week or so, I signed up. And I have to say when I received the registration paperwork I thought “What have I let myself in for!” But I put that doubt behind me and looked forward to the weekend with an open mind.

When the weekend arrived I was getting apprehensive about what to expect. The paperwork hadn’t made it very clear (though now I understand why). Another man going on the training collected me and he too didn’t know what to expect, so between us we had lots to talk about on the way.

Now, three years after my training, I can honestly say I’m so glad I didn’t chicken out because it has had a major impact on my life.

I have a disability which stops me getting around and doing every day tasks as able-bodied people do. I hadn’t had a full time paid job until the year following my training (I’m now 34). The training gave me the determination to go “out there” and fight to get myself a job.

After many job applications I now work for my local council, mainly as admin for the community occupational therapy service. I am responsible for ordering and monitoring installations and modifications specified by occupational therapists to benefit people in their own homes and help them maintain their independence. I also monitor the users’ satisfaction levels and the council’s performance indicators, all of which I enjoy immensely.

The training also gave me the ability to appreciate my friends and family. I am able to put my point across to the people I love and care for the most and still listen to their point of view without losing my temper, which in the past I was very prone to do. I have learned how to appreciate life and encourage others to do the same.

I find myself putting things I learnt on the training into practice and tackling difficult people and situations without getting flustered.

So thank you “ManKind” for your help in realising my own potential!

Matt G

Dark Waters - Deep Diving Into Soul

Eighteen, working in the bush with a bunch of guys. Wild and carefree, full of crazy and adventurous energy, we worked hard and we played hard. Late one evening, following a trip to the local bar, on our way back to camp, someone suggested a swim - skinny-dipping, that would be. It was the height of summer in the interior of British Columbia, and so, despite the lateness of the hour, everyone agreed that this was a truly excellent and fine idea.

Adjacent to this town was a small lake and on it a small resort with a beach and a pier. And so, as quietly as a bunch of fairly drunken young guys could be (i.e., not very), we snuck through the resort grounds and ran (stumbled) down to the beach.

I, along with the others, dropped my clothes as I ran and then, stark naked, plunged headfirst off the end of the dock into the black and murky waters.

Believing that I had made a relatively shallow dive, I was quite sure I would return to the surface almost immediately. This proved not to be the case however, and I found myself swimming upwards, and upwards, and yet upwards, and still upwards...

Some moments passed - I really have no idea how long - and then, very quickly, panic began to set in. I was taken by an overwhelmingly frightful thought: what if I was swimming in the wrong direction? What if I was swimming downwards, instead of upwards - or even horizontally? In the total blackness of the night I had no sense of up, nor down - or any other direction. I realized that if I kept swimming I could be taking myself ever downwards to ever-darker and colder waters and ultimately, quite possibly to my death.

Then….somehow….into my cloudy mind drifted the thought that was to be my salvation: STOP! Stop swimming,  stop trying, stop everything. Just STOP! My own buoyancy, my own lightness, would carry me back to the surface and life-giving air. My lungs were now already desperate for breath and I knew that, especially if I had been swimming downwards, it could take some time for me to drift back to the surface.

But I forced myself to be still, stopped the desperate and frantic clawing at the water and, after a very long time, I did eventually break out once again into the cool night and inhaled the most beautiful lungful of air I have ever tasted.

Years later I came to look back on this experience with new eyes. What a beautiful and almost perfect metaphor for those dark nights of the soul in my life. To the extent that I thrash around desperately trying to find my way out of the dark waters, there is a good chance I will remain there. I might even die. To the extent that I allow myself to be carried gently by and through such waters, I just might eventually re-surface - somehow reborn, transformed.

Brad N 

Meet the men of the community – Mark J

I went through the Adventure at Sopley in 2001. In 1993 I had been ordained an Anglican priest.  But believe me - Sopley was a more powerful experience. The weekend was like standing under an ice-cold shower then being wrapped in a warm blanket. I was truly exposed for the first time. I was a gay man amongst many straight men and this scared me. I had never been shy about my sexuality; after all I had always known I was gay, but before this time I had been comfortably contained within a gay social network. I was actually estranged from other men. It was as if straight men were a different species, and a slightly menacing one at that.

Sopley also freed me from a religious world view. It was the antithesis of theDamascusroad experience and from the Saturday night I no longer believed in a traditional god. Coming from a very religious, anti-gay heritage, and believing in a god who would ultimately punish me for being me, this was a life changing moment, a rebirth.

I realised I was just a man among other men and we all had our stories. I had been just as blind to other men as I thought they had been to me. Now, from a place of pain and exposure, we could grow new skins with new sensitivities.

Within one year I had left the Church, which I had both loved and loathed, and was working with refugees. I then took a Masters degree and a PGCE, and became a teacher. I am now head of the psychology department in a lovely school where I teach full time.

The last ten years have been a journey. I have not been active in MKP. I believe that you can only be initiated once and then the hero’s journey continues elsewhere. But I have worked and meditated and laughed and built fires with many initiated men in various men’s groups since then.

Last year at 50 I took the final step and wore to school a small badge on my lapel which said GAY ICON. This was a scary moment. But I decided that if I didn’t say who I was, how could I ever expect anyone else to do so? 

All went well. The students thought it was mildly interesting for about ten minutes, which was the ideal response, the head-teacher shook my hand and said “Well done”, and so we all moved on.

Sopley came at the right time for me. It kicked me out of my comfort zone and gave me a starter kit to help re-engage with the world I had left. That’s what initiations should be about; they are liminal events, and once I had crossed that threshold I could never go back. The future lay ahead with all its uncertainties, but I realised after the dance that I was no longer alone.

Mark J

The Adventure - I fell into the arms of men

This weekend I fell into the arms of men.I fell into trust of man. I fell into myself.

I opened my eyes and saw the shining sky. I looked out and saw my brothers’ eyes. I looked out and saw the familiar face of the complete stranger who is me.

And for the first time felt love for him. Is this compassion, then? I saw greatness and beauty in other men: in their fierce nakedness, in their innocent strength, in eyes that have seen what I will never see... in ways I will never fathom. Eyes so different from me; eyes that lovingly behold me; eyes of another man, and another, and another... Just ordinary men: as vulnerable and mortal and wildly beautiful as each other.

I am a Wild Salmon, Journeying Home. Towards a new mortality. A new death. I am going, to die. I have already died and will die again and again. Let it always be a good death: Clean, Sheer, Complete. So I can be free to live with power and authenticity.

I left for this weekend with not a single hero, and returned with 80. Plus one. I’ve never believed in anything, least of all me - Life is full of surprises.... And the journey Continues.

Matthew H

Women: How might your life be different?

A Piece For Women: Some thoughts on the Woman Within training When was the last time you felt like someone really heard you? Heard you without judgement or trying to fix you? Heard you and sat with you in your pain or joy without taking away what you truly feel about yourself - warts and all? How often do you have the time to hear yourself and touch your inner wisdom? What are the stories you tell yourself about the kind of woman you are? Are you loud, quiet, soft, ambitious, strong, caring, frightened, confident - or all of the above? Do you have a niggling sense that you’re stuck, or repeating the same patterns? Perhaps you want more from your relationships. Perhaps you just really want a relationship.

You might feel that there’s more to life, or you have more to offer. What if you could offer it by doing less, and being more? And how would it be if you could see what that was like, in a supportive place where you set the pace?

It’s an incredible thing to realise that all women - no matter where they’re from, how old they are, or what their life experiences have been - go through very similar things to us. And have done since time began. Women are many things at once. We take on roles - daughter, mother, lover, wife, grandmother, worker, and student. We plan, and dream, and look after other people. Some of us have to fight for our position in life, and struggle to be heard.

Every kind of woman does the Woman Within Training Weekend. Something many of us do is look at each other, make judgements about each other, and then make judgements about ourselves in comparison. We have preconceptions about what life is like for other women, and what they’ll think of us. Some of us are perfectionists, and some of us take a conscious decision not to care what anyone else thinks.

Everything is welcome at the Woman Within Training Weekend. Your feeling safe is the most important thing, even though that means something different for everyone. You won’t be asked to do anything that you don’t agree to. It’s an opportunity to leave behind those roles that you play so well, and to listen to who you really are. To learn by listening to other women, without needing to hear the whole story. To be surprised by what you hear when everything is quiet.

If you’re like most women I know, you’ve probably spent some time talking about yourself. To yourself, even. You might have thought a lot about what makes you tick. I know I had when I did the Weekend. What I hadn’t done was stop thinking. I had never stopped trying to explain everything and make sense of it, and feel instead.  I found out that when I let myself feel something rather than thinking about it, I get to the answer that’s right for me much more quickly; or at least something that I can work with.

The Weekend didn’t tell me everything about myself, or the exact direction my life should take, although it did for some. What it gave me, two years ago, was a very strong sense that I would be OK. A solid feeling, right at the heart of me, that I can still access any time I need or want to.

I also learned how to be quiet, both on the outside and the inside. I learned that I can listen without judgement, and in any situation I can choose how I react. I am powerful, in a good way, and I can be powerful without being “too much”, or aggressive. I don’t have to talk my problems away, but I can if I want to, and I will be heard. If I’m frightened of something, I know that I can be my own support, and if I need support, it’s there.

I can’t tell you what happened on my weekend. Partly because I’m very glad no-one told me what was going to happen before I went, and I don’t want to ruin it for you! But mostly because I can’t remember - I don’t remember the words, or thoughts, or what I did, in any detail. What I remember is how it felt, and I still feel it now.

After my weekend in 2009, I joined a circle of women locally. We meet once a month, and it’s my chance to reconnect with what I learned. Life has a habit of getting in the way of being a perfect human being, and I hope it never stops challenging me. The women in my circle listen without judging me, give me their full attention, and ask me what I need from them. I let them see all of me, when I need them to - warts and all.

The next Woman Within Training Weekend is 28-30 October 2011, at Juniper Hall in Dorking.  You can get more information at www.transitionseurope.com. If you would like to talk to someone about the weekend, or have some questions, you’ll find contact details on the site.

Karen M

Masculine empowerment

Being a man amongst men The men had been initiated. I stood, eye to eye, man to man with a "new brother". Then the drum sounded and I moved to the next man. The same vision. Eye to eye, man to man. Some of the new brothers had welled up and were crying. "This is awesome," I thought to myself…then I dropped the thought and returned to presence.

It was the closing ceremony of the March 2011 NWTA in the United Kingdom, and my first staffing with the global men’s organisation called The Mankind Project. I was honouring these men as new brothers at the end of their "New Warrior Adventure Weekend" (NWTA), otherwise called their initiation weekend.

For some of these initiates this might just have been the first time that they had ever felt truly honoured for all that they are by a group of fellow men. And as I did this, I realized that this was a life changing experience for me too. I was being entrusted, along with all the other 39 staff members, to honour and initiate fellow men for everything they are. And in doing so I feel I have received a transmission of masculine empowerment that will serve me, and the communities I engage in, for the rest of my life.

The container

I understood why several brothers over the years since my own initiation weekend had told me that their experience of staffing the weekend was even more powerful than the original weekend itself. Being entrusted to initiate other men having attended nothing more than a single MKP NWTA weekend might make people question the strength and integrity that this "initiation" into manhood holds. However in this organisation I am struck by how fantastically well it works.

This is because the "container" is so strong. In order to staff we must commit to being truly of service, to honour our commitments we make when signing up, to respect and respond responsibly to any emotional charge we have with another staff member so that the flow of respectful heart-full communication remains open, and to hold ourselves accountable if we feel out of integrity for any reason, e.g. if we have not walked our talk.

As staff we must commit to taking full responsibility for our actions, both wholesome and unwholesome, and there are reflective processes readily available and encouraged when we step out of integrity. And what I love is that within this container are the most wonderful heart-warming honouring rituals. These allowed me to truly serve in the knowledge that this service was being valued by my fellow brothers.

Home

As I serve in the world outside the MKP, this feeling of being supported is within me as a consequence of witnessing and being a part of these rituals. I know that things are not always easy for men and it feels damn good to know that I have support.

So, as I looked into these men’s eyes, my life was changing, my ground was forming. It is time for me to do my work, to live my joyful mission, to revel in this warm, heart-full and wonderful community, with joy and satisfaction that I have found my community of brothers.

Just before we stood eye to eye with these men, we staff were lined up and then invited to turn to the man beside us to talk for a minute about what "gold" we had received from the weekend. I was honoured to turn to one of the leaders of the weekend, and without knowing what was going to be spoken, in complete trust that my truth would be delivered, I spoke.

I heard myself speak of my strong sense that I had found a community which exemplifies so many qualities that I value in the world…integrity, service, responsibility, honouring, humour…I told this leader that I was feeling deeply satisfied, truly happy in knowing that I had finally found my community of brothers that I had silently longed for - for a very long time.

Francis E Francis is a healer, life-coach and 5 Rhythms teacher. You can read his blog at returntoinnocence.org.uk

Lost on the way to the City of Joy

Whenever I thought about joy, bliss, ecstasy, call it what you will, the image I had was of a golden city in the distance; I was always on my way there. I felt as if joy was something missing from my life. I believed everyone else apart from me was, if not full of joy, then at least happy. Was it me, and if so, what was I missing, or not doing right? Whenever I was at the top of a hill on my journey I was filled with hope and joy because the goal didn’t seem far away. When I hit rock bottom, at first I’d be lost in the shadows; then as my journey continued I’d be sustained by the hope that I had a destination in sight and mind.

But as I’ve continued on my journey, I’ve come to realise that I was so focused on my destination that I’d forgotten about my reasons for making the journey in the first place - and I’d also forgotten myself, the traveller. I never asked myself what was so important about joy, who I was, and how I would be different once I reached the city of joy. I’d always thought that everything would be good, full of bliss, joyful once I reached my destination. But in reality, what would have changed and how would reaching the city of joy change me? Would I be more joyful or living in constant ecstasy?

Looking back I can see the paths I’ve followed. Along the paths are both mementos to mark my passing, scattered objects that at the time I “had to have” because they would make me a happier man, complete me, or give me joy, and also battlegrounds where I’d overcome my personal adversaries.

Looking forward I can see my destination. I am part way between what was and what will be; I realise that another question for me is “What am I travelling to and why?” For possibly the first time I look at myself and realise that just by undertaking my journey I have changed - and I am, in some ways, closer to joy. I’d started my journey wanting to be different, improved, a better man, happier - and I’d believed that entry to the city of joy would give me these things. Once again, focusing on something outside me to get joy, happiness, bliss.

Now I’ve come to see that I have changed, and some of the things I’d set off in search of I now have, while others - like the city of joy - are getting closer. Looking at myself I can see both the shadows that I’ve carried and the light reflected from the city shining on my face. Perhaps it isn’t as far as I thought…. and maybe I am stronger than I thought; ready to walk another day, ready to do battle with another adversary until I turn a corner and realise that the city of joy has been there all along, while I just wasn’t ready to enter its gates. A happy man at home in the city of joy!

On the path to the oasis of joy

There are many mirages on the path to the oasis of joy,

solid and strong until you lean upon them

There are many mirages on the path to the oasis of joy,

cool and comforting until you reach for them

There are many mirages on the path to the oasis of joy,

loving and nurturing until you embrace them

There are many mirages on the path to the oasis of joy,

seductive and entrancing until you name them

There are many mirages on the path to the oasis of joy,

Real and true until you fix your sight on the true goal.

Shaky S

www.poetwarrior.org.uk

Fear of living the dream

I never thought it would be easy, but to hit the wall so close to the end feels almost laughable. I could use metaphors, similies and stories to share where I am, but for once I’ll try and use my own words and keep the stories to a minimum. For years I’ve been on a journey - or perhaps it’s more a series of journeys.

At first it was owning and dealing with the realisation that something in my life didn’t feel right. The old ways of keeping score (nice house, nice car, well paid job, lots of gadgets) didn’t feel relevant.

And true, it didn’t matter if the house had thirty bedrooms or three – there were still only three of us; it didn’t matter if I drove a Ferrari or a Ford - the local speed limit was still only 30 miles an hour. And as for all those gadgets that I apparently ‘had to have’, well, I spent more time looking for them than I did using them. I realised with the help of MKP that there was some transference going on. I was using a variety of things to cover my unhappiness.

For me the saddest thing was the realisation that I was sad. All that energy and money being spent by me to deny myself a basic truth. Lots of activity at the surface of the lake to displace a monster that was hidden in the depths and, I judged, laughing at me (so perhaps it’s sadness and shame).

The next question was “If what I’m doing doesn’t make me happy, what will?” I started to look at the burden of responsibilities (both imposed by myself and others) that I carried and began to own how many of them weren’t relevant or true anymore.

I would, I believed, be slicker, smoother, smarter and lots of other words beginning with ‘s’ as I did this work. But, me being me, I didn’t realise how long it would take me to heal from some of this work and the hardest part was (and still is) giving myself patience, compassion and time to heal. I never realised how many messages I carried (and to some extent carry) and how little space I had for me on that pedestal created for me both by others and by my own unconscious self.

Fearfully, tentatively, I started to dream my own dreams and that pedestal didn’t feel such a lonely place as I prepared to unfurl my shining angel wings and fly.

Bam! Then it hits me and once again they have hold of me; the fear, the sadness and the shame (I name them with the hope and belief that doing so weakens their hold over me). “Who am I, what right do I have to dream these dreams, what if I make a fool of myself, what if the dreams I dream are just an illusion, or just wrong?”

Once again, I sit with anger, sadness and shame (a familiar trinity). For the first time I can own those feelings and the fact that I really don’t know what to do or what I really want to do. What if I take off from that pedestal and then fall and hit the ground or more scarily, what if I take off from the pedestal and FLY....?

I really don’t know which I want, one is so familiar, but I now realise not serving me. The other, oh, the other - so new, so exciting, and oh so very scary. Which is more enticing though: the fear of living trapped on a pedestal not of my own making or the glory of flying free?

Shaky S

May all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness; May all be free from sorrow and the causes of sorrow; May all never be separated from the sacred happiness which is sorrowless; And may all live in equanimity, without too much attachment and too much aversion, And live believing in the equality of all that lives. www.poetwarrior.org.uk

What can I possibly gain that I don't already have?

The e-mail said an article of around 1000 words was wanted from a man who could write with passion about his recent completion of the NWTA and the benefits he'd gained. I immediately responded saying I would attempt to get something down in the next few days. The prompt response stated the deadline was Monday mid-day - it was now Friday. A full weekend approached. I replied "I’d do my best". Finding myself roused from a deep sleep at 4 am on Tuesday morning, I recall my commitment to send an article to a man I don't know, who compiles a publication I have never read. Now wide awake, I realize what day it is and that I have failed to deliver on a commitment to a man. That is NOT "my best"!

Now, at this point I could have snuggled down making excuses to keep me in my comfort, explaining the difficulty to find the time. I was so busy in the garden all Saturday, and that night was spent around a Halloween bonfire in warm connection with the men in my life. I was sharing deep inner truth and vulnerability, helping each to realize their unique gifts and our imperative to share them with the world. Feeling heard in a way I've never known from these men, I was able to take time to really listen.

And after that, I was sitting on the kitchen floor looking into the eyes of a 20 year old woman, for the first time really hearing her pain. She shared with me her deep hatred of men for the abuse and disrespect shown to her all her life, in the home, at school and out in the wider world. I have always found it difficult to relate to this woman since we first met, when she was 12 years old.

She has always been very defensive, aggressive and masculine. She revealed how she is intoxicated by the smell of men and deeply desires connection and union, but it will have to be with a man who has green or blue energy emanating from him - colours that she associates with love and heating. Most men are red, she explained, dangerous, she despises them. Finally, she told me that she had only shared these truths with 2 people: her best girl friend and now me.

Now other reasons for not making the deadline flood in. Very jet tagged from a long haul flight and having only 4 hours' sleep in 24 hour periods over the previous 6 days, I found myself sleeping right through Sunday, waking up at I0pm, and going back to bed a few hours later.

I was up at 7am to clean and prepare for one of my best friends and his new girlfriend to arrive later that day. It was important to me to prepare a beautiful space for them: ironed sheets, hoovered carpets, tidy living room and clean kitchen - not to impress, but because I value this man in my life for the friendship, humour, support and guidance we share and so I wish to treat him with the respect he deserves.

Then I was off to see a new tenant in an apartment I rent out. He'd written to say there were some minor repairs that needed attending to. I'd arranged the earliest time available to attend to his problems. Not because I worry about the rent or losing face, but because I wish to honour this man I've never met, wanting him to be comfortable in his new home. After a firm handshake and eye contact, I apologized he'd encountered any problems at all: despite the property becoming vacant while I was away, there was no excuse. Reassuring him that his happiness was my main priority, I swiftly carried out the repairs and arranged a plumber to replace a leaking tap by next week.

On the way home I popped in to see a friend who was also on the NWTA with me. We were both busy and we respected each other's time constraints, keeping our conversation focused; he lent me some equipment I had been considering buying and I gave him a contact around some work for him.

My partner and I shared a wonderful evening with my friend and his new girlfriend and left them to continue their night undisturbed with candles and romance in the hot tub.

Now where in all that could I have found the time to write a thousand words?! Are these valid excuses for not honouring a commitment? No, these are descriptions of some of the many changes that have happened in my life since I attended the New Warrior Training. There is no excuse for letting another man down, so I complete this piece at 6.30 am with deep apology and hope that the deadline contains flexibility.

Whispers of the ManKind Project were first heard when I encountered various men who were focused, loving and very present with strong eye contact. Commenting that I found it refreshing to meet a "man" as apposed to a "boy in a man's body", I was informed that these men had attended the training.

Just before I set off to attend the same training last June I spouted to my partner “Why am I, of all people, doing this?! What can I possibly gain that I don't already have?!" Half way through the weekend I thought I'd wasted my money and would only stay to support my friend. A day later I was shocked to see a man I have never known looking back out at me from my bathroom mirror.

For the first time I really liked what I saw. A 41 year old man looked back at me who was confident, loving and free to dance with life. My partner said I smelt different, my muscle tone was different, my voice deeper, my energy contained, and my focus intense. Although these qualities are not as pronounced now, they remain with me, and the changes I have found in my life in the months since the training have been profound.

I have recommended dozens of men to attend the training and am looking forward to future work with MKP. This organisation is changing men, and those men in turn are changing our world for the better.

Simon

MKP Men provide clean water and toilets in Ghana

As many of you know I have built an African Home Lodge in a very poor community on the coast of Ghana. And I’m passionate about introducing people to African life, culture and community in a way that deeply benefits the very poor local population. Over the years, when I’ve been faced by a deep need locally that I was not able to sort out by myself, I’ve turned to my MKP community to ask men here if they are able to help out. You men have very kindly helped out a number of times, particularly in my long-standing efforts to protect breeding leatherbacks and other turtles that come up on to the beaches to lay their eggs.

Recently the chiefs and elders in the community asked if I could help them by opening a number of clean water points in the villages and by building toilets.

 The lack of clean water and absence of toilets mean that children in particular suffer from illness, and often death, from diseases associated with poor sanitation. Several water points already existed, but had been closed by the water company because the community had fallen behind in its payments for the water. £400 was needed to open 6 water points which would supply clean, safe water for many, many families.

I put this problem to our MKP community and within 4 days a number of very generous men had pledged £800. I took the money over on my most recent visit. We are establishing a Water Committee who will regularly check the running of all the water points to ensure that each water point controller operates the water point properly. Once this is in place we will pay off all the current bills and open the points.

With the extra £400 Dzita-Abledomi village asked us to build their first ever toilet. With the help of volunteers we built the compost toilet you can see in the picture.

This toilet will be used by a number of families. It has two chambers. One is used, then closed off to compost while the other chamber is operating. After 6 months the compost is available to be used on crops as manure. The family members no longer need to go into the bush to go to the toilet and have the benefit of good manure for their farms. (Suitably inscribed, in case you can’t make it out, “Donated by MKP UK”! Ed.)

Prayers and libation in the blessing ceremony to open the toilet

The community have asked me to convey their deep gratitude to the men from MKP who funded this toilet. I am deeply honoured to feel our effect so far into this poor community.

Hugh N

www.meetmethereghana.com