On the pursuit of being a man

What is it? To be a man? It’s like searching for meaning on what to write, who to talk to, what to like, how to dress, what to think, how to be perceived. To be strong. To be capable. To be the man. To be not human. Masculinity is so intriguing and elusive. It’s so sought after by us. By men. Masculinity is sought after by us. By men. The thing to which we are seeking is something we innately are. Interesting. That to which i seek on a daily basis is something i already am. I am, period. I am. I can’t say it’s completely self-assuring that i hold this knowledge in my mind. Knowledge in my mind feels like an additional source of proof that I didn’t need in the first place. But its better than drinking..always better than drinking..unless of course, your goal is to become “fixed” by not drinking. In which case, I would say it’s cocktail hour.

I’m learning through self exploration that being a man for me is just being. It’s just being what I am. As long as I do not have harmful intentions for those around me, I’m doing alright. I’m just doing. Judgment is the first misstep in being. But then again, that was a judgement wasn’t it? I’ve wanted to be an expression of is for a while now and I finally feel like i’m doing so. My mustache is helping. Lots of power in that mustache because what someone perceives as an accumulation of facial hair in my upper lip region coupled with a fresh face otherwise, I perceive as an outward expression of what is going on inside: freedom. Freedom from society’s leanings..freedom from wrong intentions. Freedom from other man’s fear. Freedom from my fear. Freedom from fear. Freedom from fear of the future. Freedom from fear of what is. Freedom from judgement of what is. Freedom from fear of what ought to be. Freedom of what could be, should be, might be at some distant point in the illusionary future. Freedom. Freedom feels…that’s all. It feels. And I like the way it feels.