6 months ago
When I was wee lass, I laughed wildly at the boys' jokes - the farts, the pranks, the shoving of food in one's laughing mouth. The rough and tumble, the skinned up knees, the burying of caught frogs under the apple tree. One day I built a zip line between two pines in our backyard. I gathered kids from around the block to witness me spur my neighbor on to jump, to trust, to have a spine. Now, I was 80 lbs of might but it wasn't enough to tie the ties of his safety. Down he fell to the middle of a cheering, jeering group, suddenly unable to breathe. It was my first lesson of manhood, my first vision of ego, the first time I got blood on my hands. With power comes consequence. My responsibility is to choose which consequence will come of my power.
In the years following, when I relinquished my power altogether, I gave up on my boyhood dreams. I resigned to the assigned and parted with my soul, and what a power that turned out to be; the giving of my soul, the waiving of my value...for a dress, a nod, a kiss, a little familial approval. It made me long for the shame of betraying my friend, in all our boyhood games. For there at least, my soul was with me, hurting and growing, but with me. And now I get to try again, my boyhood now a kind of manhood, but a dreamy one at that. It has been handed back to me with a warning: Use it well, use it wisely, and choose the consequence that will reveal the Love in your intent.
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