Being a Man
In recent months, there’s been many incidents that seem to probe the essence of my manhood. For the first time in years, I’m coming to grips with the passions within - the fear of intimacy, the admiration of sacrifice, the sexual hunger. It is at not a complete revelation, but a renewed understanding of these primal fibres of my soul.
In my previous encounter with these emotions, I had classified them as being peculiar to myself. I had thought that they were products of my own personality, and it was my duty to master them.
A few days ago, I came across this article in BeliefNet, describing an interview with the author of
Wild At Heart, which describes how men can live up to God’s calling and be true to their “secret longings”. I was struck by his description of the movies that appeal to men (Shawshank Redemption, Braveheart) - these were my favourites!
Suddenly, I realised that I was not the only one to have walked this path. Nor would I be the last. Perhaps main problem is that men have difficulty relating their experiences to other men. Its a sort of chasm that separates generations, and I am no exception. For those who fall in this category, Kent Nerburn has written an excellent collection of essays in Letters to My Son which capture the essence of what every father wishes to impart to their sons.
I’m beginning to fully appreciate the gift of being a man, with all the potent implications. In this world of equality, I have lost much of the male identity, and much of the passion is denied. It does not have to be so - manhood can still be a source of strength.