by Alan Johnston, Pottsville, Australia
Scene 1: – Trees all around and the sweet sense of dusk settling in.
Men are talking with each other in an open-hearted, honest way. Sharing the kinds of unbearable rejection they have all felt and the ferocity of the life-responses that followed. The respect and caring is palpable. There is no blame to speak of – although it may be mentioned in passing. I, for one, am deeply grateful. The healing grows week to week. And as a man who has had minimal male friends in half a century, I begin to love these men and comprehend what brotherhood feels like…
Scene 2: – The front bar of a Northern Rivers hotel. Some kind of contact sport is on a flat screen high in a corner.
Men are slur-talking with each other through the thick lens on the bottom of a schooner. This distortion flows through the room. Blame and complaint are commonplace. The wife/partner/missus/little woman – well, they’d had a gutful. ‘Others’ by the very word are distanced, resented, even reviled. The laughter is often at their expense. The ferocity of this life-response oozes deep hurt. Unbearable.
The details of each scenery is divinely or humanely designed to take us to a specific source. The choice of aligning to one source or another resides in us, wherever we are.
In separation is found the seed of rejection. When we connect, we are one with the other and nothing of that is possible.
It just shows what is possible when we are open to healing and drop all protection. It is gorgeous to hear that from having minimal male friends you now have a fold of brothers whom you deeply appreciate, respect and value as they you.