Bearing witness to fierceness of a blessing kind on a men’s weekend

I feel blessed that I attended a community get-together for men who belong to the ManKind Project Ontario this past weekend.

I feel blessed that I can talk to men about the real things in my life—about what scares me, makes me feel crappy, and bewilders me, including what’s going on with the Leafs.

I feel blessed that I witnessed a man tearfully disclose a brutal situation in his life to a roomful of men, who then thanked him for showing his strength and courage.

I feel blessed to be among the men who literally raised this man off the ground, sang You’ve Got a Friend to him, and placed him down as a man uplifted.

I feel blessed that I laughed so hard with another man that tears flowed, and when we hugged, our shaking made us laugh even more. And every time I thought about it, I laughed some more.

I feel blessed that we asked a man to reveal his darkest truths about himself, his insecurities, his shadows, and what makes him dangerous, and afterwards he thanked us sincerely for loving him so fiercely.

I feel blessed to witness men sitting knee to knee and sharing their innermost struggles—as well as their joys—in a state of absolute trust.

I feel blessed to be among men who will take 100 percent responsibility for their mistakes, clean up their messes, and create more trust and connection in the process.

I feel blessed to witness a man walk up to another, put his hand on him, look him in the eye, and tell that man how brilliantly he did something.

I feel blessed to sing with other men, have fun, and connect through the primal power of men’s resonating voices.

I feel blessed to witness men hug with intention and say ‘I love you’ to each other—without a smidge of self-consciousness.

I feel blessed that I can be imperfect, and men will applaud me for it.

I feel blessed that I can be so comfortable that I feel my shoulders and chest relax, and my voice seems to lower an octave.

I feel blessed that if a man appears to be isolating, other men will look for him to check on him.

I feel blessed that men will take only two pieces of bacon—sometimes, just one!—to ensure that the men behind them will be fed.

I feel blessed that when it’s time to clean up, every man regardless of seniority or age pitches in to clean toilets, sweep rooms, and mop floors.

I feel blessed that men who may be 60 years apart in age can listen respectfully to each other, and acknowledge the wisdom that they each have to offer.