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Every day is a good day for gratitude, and today I would like to speak out to all the wonderful, extraordinary and kind men I have known in my life.
I’ll begin with my father. Gentle, sensitive and sweet he was a model of unconditional love to me. He transformed my childhood and made the critical nature of my mother bearable. I adored him and miss him deeply. Was he perfect? No. Was he an aspect of divine Love? Yes.
Next are my two sons. They are so different from one another and yet both profoundly beautiful in their souls. My heart has been broken many times as I watch their human suffering and growth and I admire their courage every day. They both know how to love in extraordinary ways. Are they perfect? No. Are they aspects of divine Love? Yes.
Next are my male friends. I know some of the most remarkable, wise, expansive, talented men. Gentle men who love with their words, their actions and their passions. Men who walk in a world which tries to crush their pride, minimize their pain, ignore their sensitivities and deny their voices. Men who continue to love even when they are misunderstood. Men who are not to blame in any way for the wounds so popularly associated with their gender. Men who are simple souls in a masculine body, who have chosen bravely to walk their own path. Are they perfect? No. Are they aspects of divine Love? Yes.
Next are my lovers. I have known some of the most remarkable men in intimate relationship throughout my life. I have loved their scent, their voices, their rough skin. I have loved the way they stand, the way they walk, the words they choose. I have absolutely adored how unlike women they are. I have craved their ways, their resonance, their power. I have reveled in their oppositeness to me. I will never tire of the presence of a man next to me, till the day I die. Are my lovers perfect? No. Are they aspects of divine Love? Yes.
Finally are the men I do not yet know, the ones who struggle to discover what their role is in a world where they are no longer needed to protect women, to provide for us and feed us, not even to procreate and sire a child. I honour the men who despite feeling lost in their own self definition, despite having never experienced a rite of passage into their masculinity, despite experiencing traumatic indoctrination into the ways of the wounded masculine, despite survival in a culture of male violence, despite circumcision and gang aggression and abandonment by their fathers, despite being condemned for acts they themselves have never committed, remain dedicated to a path of conscious change and awareness. A life of dedication to a Love they themselves may never have received. Are they perfect? No. Are they aspects of divine Love? Yes.
I once dreamt I was a man. In my dream, I made love to a woman, as a man. It was an absolutely glorious experience, to embody that power, that proud rising of ecstasy. I know I have lived this in many lives, and may live this again. When next I birth in masculine form, may the world be kind to me, and allow me my chance to heal and to grow and to learn of love. May the women in my life come to know me as a mirror to their own hearts.
much love,
Adi
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Previously published here and reprinted with the author’s permission.
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