Jan 20, 2024 | Writing
Written January 20, 2017.
I wrote this morning to a man sitting in some pain and confusion. I feel it also. Maybe this will resonate for you. If you’re a man with some of my out-facing characteristics, it may be easy to feel like a target right now, even with those we care for and who we are actively working for justice and dignity with.
Here’s the thing I’m slowly learning. *I can hold the target without being the target.* This is the martial art that the times demand from me. This is the nonviolent protest of the privileged that this karmic play is asking for.
Shouldering the weight of history, using gifts both earned and unearned, AND shielding our beautiful souls are all parts of the work for men right now. Know who you are. Let what is true land. Experience it. There may be fear, sadness, anger, shame there. (May there also be pride, gratitude, and excitement!) I keep looking in the mirror. Ah yes! I see that in me. And it does not define me. I am a royal flush, white, cis, straight, educated, middle class, able bodied … the list goes on. There is no way for me to experience the subjective reality of my sisters and brothers who were not born with my stacked deck. Don’t argue with reality. Reality wins.
Know that I am not my ancestors, and yet I carry their legacy. Know that I am not a ‘bad guy’ and yet I swim in the same unseen water of culture. I have absorbed the same messages, learned the behaviors, taken the bait more times than I can count. Know that I am not the patriarchy, and yet I am a beneficiary (and an unwilling symbol) of it.
I will never be a perfect ally. Sometimes … I won’t even feel like an ally. (to you or to me) This isn’t going to be pretty or easy. I’ll keep showing up anyway.
Can I hold the container? Can I make space for rage and heart-shattering grief, and BE the rock, be the river, be the soil? Sometimes. Sometimes the weight of it is collapsing me.
The intensity of the heat and the repetition of blows hardens the steel. Now is the time to hone our edges and learn to slice with the precision of dragonfly wings. Cut the people free from the restraints of gangrenous systems. I set down the bludgeon I have used against my brothers and sisters, but first let me plant one stake. This marks the corner of the new temple. Bring your shovels.
I’m not alone. You are not alone. There are many brothers out here feeling this pain, and working together. I stand with HER … the big global her that is emergent. To be part of this emergence, I am asked to dig deep and bring forth the best of HIM — and there is SO MUCH power, compassion, and solidarity there to call forth. I will continue to be what I want to see as much as I can. I will stand with. Sometimes right now that means standing behind. This does not make me second, or less, or sub, or oppressed.
The weight of my legacy of privilege is immense. It is weight that I can use to help move the lever of history.
Mar 1, 2023 | Writing
Updating my calendar
I noticed
our meetings were still active
live occurrences
three times a week
the pop-up
was unerringly clear
You’re deleting an event.
there’s a dialog box
with three choices
two of them I hate
one is impossible
these empty spaces
the next time
someone clicks
my booking link
there will be more options
I’m trying to imagine
some time from now
when that won’t hurt
Feb 25, 2023 | Writing
buddhas
leave a trail
of broken things
on the way
to the bodhi tree
they
step in shit
they get
un, non, mis
anti-transcendent
raging and throwing
tantrums
like children
tied to their
toys
rapt attention
attached
eventually
their purpose served
things that can break
fall away
all the knots unravel
not now
not yet
not this
not ready
there is always
a contraction
a last spasm
before
the look
of astonishment
settles in
child like
here
open this gift
of empty
perfection
simply put
life
can only happen
right
fucking
now
my friend’s
voice deepens
the moment lengthens
and the thread
connects
to the
absolute
present
he is
an invitation
to
the essence
alive in this moment
“I am not my ego
I am awareness
that observes it.”
nothing is broken
just different
Here I am
now
recipient of this gift
when so long
I thought
I was the giver
thank you
friend
I love you
that’s where I
should have started
I’ve buried the lead
following the thread
that doesn’t change
like Stafford’s The Way It Is
now you
friend
take a ride
through the hills
leaning into the curves
and take a walk
with the one you love
hold hands and kiss
sit yourself down
unwind
under thick branches
among the roots
of a live oak
drop me a line
when you arrive
for Michael Russer
my friend
Nov 11, 2022 | Writing
Dear New Dad,
Your fear is welcome
here is a place where
you can lay it down
just for these few lines
that pain you feel in your chest
is a new kind of love
it is here to open you
there is no way
to resist it reframe it divert it avoid it
stop
don’t run
remember
let it transform you
and shine
magnified through the tears
in your eyes
let it penetrate
and unsettle in you
all that needs
to be shaken awake
to free it more
to burn away
what is dry and ready to go
let it unfold you
in those places where
you are creased and hidden
a seed splitting
in dark soil
let it reveal
in you
something unseen
a latent magic
made for this time
let it set the table
with community
gathering
within and without
green sprouts
and manna
to sustain you
you have a bounty
within you
let this love
bring the feast
Dear New Dad
there is fear
laid aside
just there
but this love
can hold it
let it
©2022 Boysen Hodgson
Congratulations to Brandon, Christine, and Bindi Rose Clift — born November 7, 2022.
Oct 5, 2022 | Writing
a Gift Received and Offered
In about 3 weeks I will be on staff for a ManKind Project men’s weekend for the first time since 2013. I stopped staffing shortly before my wife and I became adoptive parents. Now … the kids are older and more regularly stable, and our family can handle separation and transition with more ease.
This will be the 12th time I’ve had this opportunity and responsibility. And it’s a serious responsibility. Hundreds of hours of effort by dozens of men across New England.
It was 2004 when I attended this training. It’s changed some since then. It keeps changing. And what continues to amaze me is that I can still feel and remember that weekend in April 2004 in my whole body. The feeling of aliveness, exhaustion, and connection.
I’m sitting with excitement, serious intention, and a healthy dose of fear. There will be men there, like me, who have been hiding out, disconnected, suffering, alone. There will be men there, like me, who are looking for more meaning, passion, and purpose in their lives. There will be men there, like me, who have believed they’ve found all the answers in the books they’ve read and the podcasts they’ve listened to and the accomplishments they’ve recorded. I honor that work.
And I also know what it’s like to be in a living breathing sacred space with men. It’s not only about our physical bodies. Our bodies come in a range of different configurations of parts and hormones, genes and neurons. It’s not only about our socialization. Our socialization looks all kinds of ways. It’s not only about the shared experiences and identities. I know men who have experiences that I can’t even imagine, and identities radically different than mine.
We hold an intention to learn through adventure and experience together what each of us has struggled to learn on our own. And somehow it works. Somehow a kind of magic is created.
I didn’t know that other men felt as I did. Now I believe that every man I meet shares some of the shadows and gold that I carry within. I didn’t know that there are men who can be trusted to hold the grief, anger, regret, shame, and fear of other men … along with joy, gratitude, tranquility, and wonder! Now I know because I have seen it and created space for it.
I didn’t know that there is a way of being with men that is supportive and purpose-filled … that builds each man up and helps him see more clearly the goodness, power, and responsibility he is gifted with in this life.
I didn’t know the joy of connecting and getting to know men so very different than me, and yet the same. Each man’s journey is unique. And that is part of the gift.
We can lessen the burden we carry and we can lessen the harm we inflict. We can forgive and find mercy. We can love better and communicate more fully. We can empower the best in one another, through our bodies, minds, hearts, and spirits.
Doing this has made possible the best things in my life — my relationships with my wife and my children.
That’s why I’ll give a significant amount of time to make this happen. That’s why I’ll be there and assist the men coming as participants.
It was a gift that other men created for me, without ever having met me.
How about you? Is this a gift you would like to receive?
https://newengland.mkpusa.org
Aug 18, 2022 | Writing
maybe there is nothing new
that can be said
about a haunted house
all men
have one
maybe it’s not the house
but the man
spirits
in spite of best efforts
stick around
maybe it’s worth noting
that when the haunted
thing arrives
unbidden
mostly it wants nothing
but to be noticed
a man
will burn down the block
to not occupy space
with the spirit
when he
did not call it
and so it stretches
up into the smoke
and spreads itself out
pervasive
in every soft fingertip
of ashes
maybe it’s quieter
for a moment or two
in the blackened field
of the razed neighborhood
momentary
relief
then the sirens
what a man
refuses to see
will grow
it’s not the house
it’s worth noting
it’s quieter
when
he turns
and looks at it
the spirit
the thing haunting him
and grieves
and acknowledges
head bowed
usually
a soft rain can wash
the streaks
of ashes
from his face
5/12/2022
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