Respective Demons
The six of us men walk from the lobby down an unremarkable hall with offices on each side. We pass a small kitchenette/break area, then turn right to enter the meeting room. It’s your standard corner boardroom: long rectangular table surrounded by wheeled swivel chairs, a white board at the rear wall, an L-shape of windows to catch a glimpse of the other office building across the parking lot.
It feels, for a split second, as though we’re heading into a typical work meeting, about to discuss this quarter’s sales trends, talk some strategy, unpack some big ideas, circle back on stuff, and put pins in things.
But we’re not here to talk shop.
We’re here to take a deep dive into our emotions, our feelings, our hang ups. This is men’s group therapy.
I can’t say exactly what we talk about per patient confidentiality. I’ll only comment on how and why we do what we do in that room. We’re strangers, for starters, so it’s both immediately awkward and liberating. Like striking up a conversation with an airplane seat mate.
It’s also a little tense because we hold an unspoken knowledge that we’re quietly battling our respective demons. We need to get things off our chests, and we know it will probably happen in that very room. Our facilitator, Dr. N, prompts us in several ways. This helps, because men aren’t generally apt to spill our guts so easily, in any setting. But that’s what makes that place so special, almost sacred.
It’s what Dr. N calls a “brave space.” He shuns the word safe space, because he says he cannot guarantee our safety, nor can we guarantee each other’s safety. Safety, of course, being a very broad word to mean that no harm will be done. It’s a brave space, he reminds us, because we are there to share, to let go, and to process.
Each one of processes in different ways. Some talk. Others listen. Some chime in. Some offer insights. Some go deep. And then it all changes again. The conversation meanders, then comes back, then we laugh, then we go silent, then the real talk happens. Then there’s some useless banter, then Dr. N gathers us in with some questions that challenge us. Emotions come out, emotions go in. It’s this strange and therapeutic interplay of different minds, that happen to be in the bodies of men.
Our problems are not extra-strength, two-play, hungry man-sized, macho problems. They’re just snapshots of different lives seeking some kind of clarity through connection with a fellow human, and in our case, a fellow man.
We indeed become braver in that room. We make distinctions. We see things in different ways. We’re encouraged, we’re supported. We walk out of there with a bit more strength and wisdom, and we carry on a tradition that is lost in our hustle culture, where men are taught to suck it up as lone wolves.
I’m learning so much with this group. I’m learning what’s possible and increasing empathy and mindfullness. I’m reminding myself how fortunate I am, and how compassion is endless once we let it flow. I appreciate that everyone comes to this table every two weeks to spend ninety minutes together. I appreciate that I have these fellows to hold space with. It reminds me that I’m not alone.
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Photo by Dylan Gillis on Unsplash
