A Piece of My Story
I grew up, like so many other boys, longing to find the secret fast-track to the magical, free world of being a grown man…
I had that childhood affliction of a vivid imagination – so while kid life was cool, I think it was the rare boy who didn’t believe that being a man was going to be something like Kid 2.0, an upgrade with a whole mess of additional perks like fast cars, helicopters and no one telling you to do your homework or when to go to bed.
At the same time, I was hearing a mess of messages about what men were supposed to be…
Stoic and rational, free from the burdens of emotion, self-sacrificing providers, all-knowing problem-solvers, earners and answer-keepers and answer-givers…
Then the late ‘60’s and early ‘70’s happened, along with a whole lot of societal upheaval, Vietnam, the Women’s Movement and so much more…
And, as a fairly sensitive kid moving into (and through) my tween and teen years, things started getting – shall we say – confusing.
The confusion was rooted in trying to make what I’d heard about manhood line up with what I was beginning to actually see, because the messages and the situation on the ground didn’t appear to fit with one another.
My own father seemed, for the most part, to be enjoying himself – but he seemed to be an exception.
I didn’t see a whole lot of men I would describe as really happy or fulfilled.
I also noticed my peers beginning to move toward either side of a man-continuum that, on one end, seemed to have “Macho Jerk” in bright neon, whilst the flashing sign on the other end advertised “Sensitive New-Age Guy.”
Being an angsty, artistic type with more than a little attachment to a nagging, semi-pathological need to be liked, I waltzed on over to the sensitive side of things, where I set up a utilitarian sort of campsite that served well enough for a while, but grew increasingly foreign and uncomfortable over the course of a couple or three…
Decades…
Because, aside from staying too long, if I’m honest with myself, it never really fit.
To make a long, deliciously painful, at turns dramatic, at other turns just plain comedic story shorter, I, like so many men, spent years trying to wear a suit conceived, designed and tailored in another era, handed down without question from generation to generation, as if styles – to say nothing of the world itself – never changed.
Let me tell you, it was not a good look…
The further I moved from that ill-fitting get-up, the clearer it became that I wasn’t the only man out there trying to mold, box, squeeze or otherwise shoe-horn myself into models and definitions of manhood that, like old milk lost for weeks at the back of the fridge, were curdled, lumpy, kinda stanky – and way beyond their “use by” date.
Here’s the thing: I – and I think most of us who wander around western culture as adults in male skin – grew into childish and/or adolescent images of what we thought men were supposed to become…
And while plenty of us were being taught how to become outdated, two-dimensional “man” cut-outs, I can think of approximately zero men who were taught much of anything about being conscious, responsible adults…
So it’s no wonder we find ourselves in relationships, communities, organizations, institutions – and entire nations – with (or being led by) man-children and/or adolescents dressing the part and pretending.
But I digress…
Back to my own story: Things took a turn when, leaving much of the artistic angst of earlier days behind, I started doing more of my own inner-work – as well as working with a whole lot of other men – coaching, teaching, learning, leading, following, playing and more…
Don’t get me wrong – I’d be delusional and lying if I said I’ve figured it all out and got the whole gig wired.
As if there’s a point of arrival or the work is ever really done…
What I can say, though, is that on most days, I’m walking my talk, pretty friggen’ fulfilled and having way more fun than I see – or recall seeing – the vast majority of my fellow men having.
There’s more to the story, of course, but the bigger pieces of the puzzle came together when I began picking up and bringing home bits of my self I’d voted off my own island (in the name of being “a man”) years and decades earlier…
And a little over a dozen years ago I hatched a plan for a program to teach other men to do the same…
And it took me ten years to pull it together and gather the guts to finally launch it…
And not only did that program, dubbed “The Integrated Adult Man”, have legs, but it managed to sprout a pair of wings and fly three times already!
For the next iteration, I’ve shortened the name to “IAM” – partially because it’s a whole lot easier to say, but mostly because there are so many big honkin’ celebratory declarations that can begin with the words “I am…!” that it just makes good sense…
And here’s my invitation to you and/or the men in your life: Come join me for the fourth round of my IAM program beginning this October…
We’ll be reactivating and welcoming home a whole bunch of lost and left-behind parts – particularly the ones that knew how to play, how to explore, how to laugh, how to engage with life and have fun!
Over the course of eleven weeks together, we’ll be redefining and refreshing relationships (with self and others) and learning to play with responsibility in ways that transform it from weighty and burdensome to deep and – no kidding – wickedly enjoyable…
And a whole lot more…
And yes, this is as crazy a time as has ever been in our lives – and if ever there were a time to come together as fellow travelers, explorers and men committed to growing – this is it!
IAM 2020 class details are below – one of which is that early-bird savings are happening now – and they’ll be going away in a few weeks.
Oh – and by the way, the first 6 men who reach out to me and register will receive an additional $50 savings AND a series of valuable bonus small-group focus sessions.
Whether IAM is new news to you – or you’ve been considering jumping in since we started back in 2018 – now’s the time!
I look forward to seeing you in October for this year’s IAM program!