“The Good Men Project is a glimpse of what enlightened masculinity might look like in the 21st Century… The Good Men Project was founded by Tom Matlack in 2009. Tom set to collect men’s stories about defining moments in men’s lives. What he discovered was that the connected idea between stories of the men Tom talked to was that there was a moment when each man ”woke up, looked in the mirror and said ‘I thought I knew what it meant to be a man. I thought I knew what it meant to be good. And I realized that I don’t know either.’” These are the types of stories that “change the writer and change the reader.”
I found these words when I found the Good Men Project (GMP), by stumbling upon goodmenproject.com. I got caught in its web. I have been writing for GMP for six months now, trying to get free. This writing has changed me. I hope that what I have written has changed some readers as well.
I write for free because I am not a professional writer. If you are reading this it is because GMP employs professional editors who know how to write.
I plan to keep writing because the stories that GMP wants, keep changing me as I write them. I want them to change me into being a good man.
It is not that I consider myself to be a bad man. Why, I think I am better than average, but what is average. What is good enough?
Before I started writing, I looked in the mirror and saw an old man with a gray beard, who was no longer working and who had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. I saw a man who could no longer think as quickly as he once did. I saw a man who would not be the professional social worker he once was.
I saw a man who used to identify with his work, but who now could’t work. I saw a body that used to obey commands, a body that now wasn’t always sure how to. I saw a face that looked sad, afraid and confused.
When a man loses some control of his mind and body is he less of a man? Can less lead to more? Certainly this loss of control can’t be good. Parkinson’s disease is a neurodegenerative disorder with no known cure. There was no reason to have hope that, not so good, was going to get any better. It could only get worse. Or so I once thought.
I looked in the mirror. I looked at the GMP website and I began to wake up. I was starting to become more of the man I wanted to be.
When it comes to being a good man, my vision for myself still isn’t clear and its not because of the cognitive problems caused by Parkinson’s disease.
There is a poem I first read and liked when I was a young man. It is called If. It was written by Rudyard Kipling. If gives clear instructions and promises if followed, “Yours is the Earth and everything that is in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my Son!”
I will give you the poem in it’s entirety at the end of this article, for right now I will give you the seventh of eight stanzas:
“If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much;”
GMP invites talk from any man in the crowd. GMP invites me to listen to all. It exposes me to the kings of writing, the kings of psychotherapy and political action on the behalf of men. It exposes me as well to the voice of the common man. GMP wants my voice, too.
As I join in this conversation, I risk becoming more uncertain as to who I should be as a man. I risk following the kings blindly, I risk running away from the talk of commoners who I don’t agree with, without questioning my disagreement.
I used to believe that the best way to be a man is to be certain as to who you are. Now I believe the best way to be, is to be uncertain. I am certain about this.
I am like a tennis player waiting for a serve. I bounce from having my weight on my left foot to having my weight on my right foot, back and forth. Having no firm position, I am best positioned to hit the ball where ever it goes. I have the best chance whether or not I am on my right foot when the ball is served into the right side of the court or if it is hit the other way. I have the best chance because I have momentum on my side.
Am I winning many matches? I don’t care. I follow the advice in stanza three:
“If you can dream and not make dreams your master
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
And treat those two imposters just the same;”
I used to think that being a good man meant dreaming big and achieving your dreams. I used to believe that this was a great thought and that great men, think great thoughts and then act on them. That they play to win.
I used to fear the ever-present, very real danger of failure, including the danger of not adequately protecting those that I love. What is this talk of imposters?
It is talk that can wake a man up to the vibrant uncertainty of life and to love that uncertainly, all of it.
If you have read this far and find yourself hating my apparent smugness, let me explain. I believe in the last two verses of stanza two:
“Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good nor talk too wise”
The best way for me not to not look too good is for me to avoid thinking that “I am all that.” I don’t want to be a wise guy.
In some ways I am like every other human being
In some ways I am like some other human beings and unlike other ones
In some ways I am completely unique
Ultimately I believe that I am the Universe and every thing that’s in it. My vantage point is unique and connected seamlessly to every other vantage point.
For me, the path to this ultimate reality is to the ongoing questioning as to what kind of man I am.
The Good Men Project is one of the clearest sign posts along this path.
It is a path I plan on walking frequently. I invite you to walk your path with me.
I plan on writing more reflections on the poem If, including what there is to not like about it. Keep on the lookout for more on If, if you wish.
◊♦◊
If
BY RUDYARD KIPLING
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs, and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting, too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good nor talk too wise. . .
If you can dream and not make dreams your master,
It you can think, and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you have gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn out tools;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unavoidable minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run.
Yours is the earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
__
Photo credit: Getty Images
Two lines stood out to me:
“If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much”
I took the meaning to be, “keep everyone at a distance emotionally, so that you can’t be harmed.” I hope I got that wrong, because that shouldn’t be the way to be a man – or just a person, really.
People I care about routinely upset me (and vice versa) but I’d rather feel the love and safety of those relationships with all the risks of disappointment than live in emotional isolation.
Incredibly insightful and artistically crafted piece. Applause and kudos from afar. Master to nothing, open to all…
Good advice, for everyone.