The Existential Crisis of Man

There is a current theme amongst the men – the husbands and partners of women that I know; it could be labelled as the classic mid-life crisis except its core is so much deeper and more extensive. I have watched the seeds germinate from those early honeymoon years of engagements, weddings and the birth of our children. This is not just a mid-life moment, this is a full on existential crisis of men that is busting out of the seams of society and is about to explode.

I have been observing it for many years now, how it relates to my personal dynamic and listening to the words of my circle of women, where, often unbeknownst to each other, they repeat the same elements of frustration and despair. The truth is that a deep chasm of depression seems to be the very crux of the issue, which of course can manifest in a multitude of ways: from lethargy & dormancy thought to explosive rage and simmering anger with everything in between; addiction, disconnection, emotional abuse, gas-lighting, narcolepsy, adrenaline chasing, affairs etc. The list goes on and as much as many of these are painful to be around or on the receiving end of, they are just the symptoms of a masculine struggle so deep that it’s hard for me to imagine how they will claw their way out. For women, it is alienating.

I have a theory, without a solution, but important to name nonetheless. I see the beginning of the separation of compassion between the parties at the point of childbirth. We have lost most of the tangible and cultural rites of passage in our society for both sexes but nature has a handle on that for women. When we give birth, we are initiated into motherhood in a way that defies conscious description. I know my husband would say that I changed dramatically at this point in my life and I completely agree. I had to dig deep to reveal my innate and primate strength, my priorities shifted overnight from self-ish concern to embracing the wider picture of holding, love, nourishing and nurturing beyond my personal boundaries – I was no longer the centre of my world and I never would be again. Childbirth is the most empowering and enlightening experience a woman can have and sadly many women are cheated of this process by the interventions and interference our society has created around it but, despite these inhibiting effects, there is no denying that the physical creation of life pushes women to step into themselves – to know themselves; to find the edges of their endurance and to step up to the emotional, physical and spiritual challenges of motherhood.

Where is this moment for men? Where do they get to experience their innate and primal strength? Where do they find the edges of their endurance? Where is their opportunity to feel like they have stepped into their purpose of existence?

In traditional cultures, without the cosseting of modern conveniences, physical survival and protection is the role of the masculine. Hunting for food in harsh environments; facing life & death decision making; protecting the tribe from invasion; creating a space of safety for the women, children and elders. Here there is purpose, here there is meaning and it is infused with personal challenge, the need to step out of self-ish concern, to see the whole picture of community and family, and to face and experience the portals of endurance. It is no wonder that adrenaline adventure is such a draw for the masculine but they still miss the very essence of purpose and selflessness. Facing death just for yourself will not create the shift into enlightenment that slaying a predator, for food or protection to feed and nourish your family and village, will do.

So here we are left with a swathe of men who witness the birth of their children but are not initiated into fatherhood, who struggle to transition from self-centred priorities to encompassing the family needs; who feel the loss of their devoted partners as they, in turn, devote their energies to the young and vulnerable. Men have no true purpose to fill that void and, by the time their partner has energy again to turn back towards them, so often the resentment on both sides has created a chasm of disconnect. The strains of motherhood without the village threaded through with the disempowered man is a recipe for an emotional maelstrom of epic proportions and one that gets deeper and harder and more painful as it continues its endless swirl. Picking up new resentments in the regular tornado of life add to the power of the storm. Our women are suffering, feeling as if they are carrying the burden of it all – the physiological and psychological stretches of motherhood and a depressed partner to boot, however that manifests. Our men are feeling empty, purposeless and redundant.

So what are the solutions? What I do notice is that the therapies of our modern times can only help so much, more of a band aid than a cure. These rites of passage into adulthood and meaning are created by visceral and profound experiences, cognitively knowing this offers momentary understanding but doesn’t actually create a new reality. I have watched as men seek and search for this unknown feeling – this lack – through adrenalin, through talk therapies, men’s work, psychedelics, wealth acquirement. They all can create temporary easing and patches of identity but they don’t seem to stick. The mind cannot trick the body and the body cannot trick the mind.

So I have no solution. Going out to hunt for deer whilst knowing if you fail you can buy a few steaks at the butcher isn’t going to cut it. However, I have been noticing an uprising amongst men discussing how they do feel purposeful and fulfilled in a modern relationship dynamic and it seems to be by finding a way to fulfil some of these traditional roles. Safety seems to be a huge theme. Women seeking it and men feeling initiated by providing it. This will look different for everyone but discovering what makes your family feel physically and emotionally safe reaps rewards for all parties. Mission and meaning for the masculine, breath and space for the overwhelmed feminine, contained and nurturing boundaries for the children and connection, connection, connection between the couple. Safety allows love to flourish. We all carry our traumas but by stepping outside of how that makes the ‘I’ feel, utilising those difficult experiences and channelling them into the creation of an environment of protection and potential breeds its own kind of purpose.

As a woman, I worked hard to ensure my rites of initiation were not stripped from me by our modern constructs, but equally I am not created to journey solo. I need and want partnership and I know the most fulfilling life is creating that ying and yang together, raising our family as a unit and a team. My compassion reaches out to the men struggling with all of this complexity and, more so, for how it manifests in challenging and often frightening ways, and yet we are not about to step back in time to hunter/gatherer dynamics so it is time to seek a new way to walk fully into manhood; to shed the shackles of shame and malaise and step back into the roles you were born for. Let this existential crisis be your portal – find your edge of endurance and come back home.

Per Aspera Ad Astra

This is my family crest. Per Aspera ad Astra, Through Hardship to the Stars.

As a child, I saw this ring on the little finger of all of my mother’s family; my grandparents, my many aunts and uncles and of course, my mother. Her’s was worn thin, from the decades of continual wear, and that itself told a story.

So when I turned 21 and was gifted my own, I was filled with a sense of belonging. As with many families, there were and are plentiful woundings and traumas that weave their way through the complexity of relationships and the pathway through my family dynamics is something I have struggled with for many years. So much so, that just before I had my first child, I decided to take my ring off. I no longer liked what it represented in my mind. It felt like an elite club to which I was accepted by blood but not love. A square peg in a round hole.

So this ring has sat in a draw for over a decade, every now and again I might open the box, forgetting what was inside, and then remember. Not once did I feel like putting it on again.

Until last week. Last week I felt a deep heaviness with the state of the world. Sadness that people I once called friends could willingly choose dictates that alienate and separate society; a hit of fear as I registered the huge impact the shedding from vaccinated individuals was making on so many; despair at the ease at which many choose their own comfort over wisdom.

I had a moment of deep vulnerability and quite frankly, sheer panic. And then I remembered that so much of that, if not all, is completely out of my control. I can only bring change in myself and perhaps a reflection of that out into the world.

So I dug into my emotional toolbox, polished off my resilience, took some lung busting deep breaths and called all my angelic protection into play.

And with that came a calling to ask my ancestors to protect us on this rocky road. I was drawn back to my ring, no longer a representation of all that I am not, but a symbol of protection from all those that have gone before me, whose spirits can guide and support. And of course, with the words deeply etched, both within the gold and my heart… it is onwards I go…

Through Hardship to the Stars.

#angels #spirits #ancestors #protection #hardship #stars #family #love #courage

First Written on Social Media 16 May 2021

Happy 100th Birthday Daddy

Today would have been my father’s 100th birthday. He died over seven years ago (Goodbye Daddy) and during those years since, my relationship with him has changed and evolved so much as to be nearly unrecognisable.

He wasn’t a wonderful father on the human plane; he was a colourful, fascinating, eccentric and clever man but not one to pay real attention to his children’s needs on any level. He stopped contributing financially to my upbringing when I was around 10 (and my brother 12) leaving my mother to carry that load of food, clothes and education. I didn’t have conversations with him about my hopes and dream and feelings and that breathtaking song by Luther Vandross ‘Dance with my Father’ makes me yearn achingly, with every listen, for a father that never existed.

I could go on about his faults and failings but I have forgiven them all. For now, in spirit, he has his hand on my back with each and every step. I feel his presence so keenly in all the moments that I need him. I hear his evolved wisdom and his humble and unconditional love. He protects my children and guides our paths with all the passion of one who knows and owns how much he didn’t do during human life.

Many might struggle to hear these words, to think I have projected a wish fulfilment on an empty entity. And they could be absolutely right. But it’s not what I believe, and feel and hear and see.

I see the transformation of a spirit, who held such deep and painful wounds, become the light that they were born with. I see all the very best of his personality merge with the grace of divinity and, with that, offering to make amends with his energy and connection.

I have known a lot of death and each spirit holds their own way of being in the next plane. Some are close, some distant, some have learned all they need to, others will return for further lessons. Some are restful, some restless and some visit, whilst others have moved on and past.

My father is resolutely here and I am deeply grateful for that. So today I honour his 100th birthday with so much love, so much joy and so much peace.

Happy Birthday Daddy. 💗

They say I have no compassion

They say I have no compassion

Yet my mind and heart are torn with concern for the decimation of our children’s well-being. The long term impact on their mental health from the hysterical fear messaging by those that are supposed to keep them safe.

They say I have no compassion

Yet my heart breaks for the elderly left alone, without touch or love; empty days to end their lives on, how does this protect them? Has anyone asked for their opinion, for their choices?

They say I have no compassion

But my soul weeps for the disconnection from humanity; masks, division, fear, compliance to arbitrary and harmful rules.

They say I have no compassion

Though I lie awake wondering how those whose livelihoods have disappeared before their eyes are putting food on the table and keeping a roof over their heads, at home and abroad.

I am so bemused by being told that decisions are for my freedom and protection when they are doing the opposite. Where education is being removed unless we submit to suffocating our children; where travel is threatened to be withheld unless we allow unnecessary medical procedures; where I am being pushed to use cashless finance, irrelevant to how that impacts our lives including that of our children and our privacy; that I am not free to roam my community without confrontation around masks, sanitiser, personal details.

How is any of this creating a more connected, loving community? I am not afraid of a virus that has the same impact of any other virus. Those that take personal responsibility for their health will survive without impact; those who are vulnerable will face the same risks from life as they always have.

They say I have no compassion but where is their compassion for all those suffering in order to ‘protect’ them?