My dear men, help!
As a man, "help" was always one of the hardest words for me.
It was a sign of weakness. Inadequacy. Stupidity.
What if they took advantage of me in this vulnerable state? Used it against me? What if I lost my edge? My strength? My positioning in this relationship?
The thought alone would shut me down. A collapsing inward.
But, the more I dive into the masculine, the more I find a completely different meaning of "help."
Strength, fellowship, power, acceptance and growth. Rapid growth.
Because the smallness of male programming has to die. If I want to achieve a goal, would I not do everything in my power to do just that? To shed any little egoic thought that blocks me from victory.
It is ludicrous to think I can do it alone. To know it all. To have all the answers. To excel at everything.
When I find myself asking for "help," I am utterly blown away by the response. Usually a resounding YES. And if it's a NO, I admire that. Because that is them owning their time and space.
The more "help" comes, the bigger leaps I can take. The more I can do of what I want to do. The more my life becomes fluid and solid. The more time devoted achieving the things I am good at as opposed to toiling away at the things I'm not.
"Help", my dear men, is not weakness. It is strength beyond compare.
It is masculinity at its finest.