Masculine is not male
an introduction to holding space
Someone you love—a partner, friend, sibling—just lost something big.
They’re angry, grief-stricken, wrathful, raging.
Imagine yourself being there while they express all of those big emotions.
But you’re not just in the room; you’re really being with that person. Standing with them as they stamp on the rug and scream and cry and pound their fists into your chest.
Can you feel your feet on the floor, your slow deep breaths down in your belly?
Can you feel your love for this person, your empathy in their loss?
Can you sense how there’s no problem here, nothing to fix, rush through, or change?
Can you feel your own solidness, spaciousness, capacity?
Can you hold their experience as something important, in and of itself?
Something sacred.
You can do these, partly because you know that there is an other side to this expression: Just like the day after a hurricane brings the clearest, calmest weather, deep connection and intimacy become more available.
What is most important in this moment is not their loss or longing or cries for revenge—what is important right now is your role in providing a space for them to express and move whatever is within them, out.
Without that stuff getting stuck in your own body.
You can let all of that go. This is not about you.
And, your role is vital here.
Welcome to Container-Building 101. In this post we’ll speak about ‘holding space,’ a once-woo-woo term for one of the most powerful acts of service you can offer another human. This is not therapy; it is a foundational skill for healthy relationship.
If this work has ever benefitted you, please consider liking and subscribing to Into the Fire.
I don’t need to tell you what this is about—
start on the inside, and work your way out.
Ani Difranco, “Work your way out”
Masculine is not male.
In his recent book, From the Core, John Wineland calls on his work with David Deida to define masculine energy simply as “that which does not change.”
I sometimes refer to the masculine as Structure: it is a toolkit, a way of being, and a skill set of resourcing yourself in order to be of service to others.
Resourcing means coming back to a centered state within yourself where you feel clear, curious, kind, and compassionate.
Others refer to the masculine as a ‘meta-archetype,' ‘ one-half of the universal energies,’ or simply ‘that which dances with the feminine.’
All refer to a real but invisible force which everyone—regardless of gender—can access.
The key offering of any structure is the quality of the container it creates.
Think of a house in which you can sense the thoughtfulness and care with which it was built, and maintained. Contrast that in your mind to a house that was built cheaply with low-quality materials, and which has not been cared for over time.
Which would you live in?
Into which would you rather invite your loved ones?
Here’s the difference between a house and the type of container to which I refer:
The quality of a container is measured not by the person or entity embodying structure, rather by those within—or impacted by—it.
Specifically, how safe does one partner feel ‘within’ the container of a romantic partnership, or in the space of a heated conversation or conflict? Do they feel cared for, attuned to, witnessed? Can their nervous system rest into knowing that even when conflict is present, they are safe to experience it?
That sense of safety is where true vulnerability begins, and where personal transformation can occur on the deepest levels.
Agreements
In the context of men’s healing work, the container is the group in which you participate, i.e. a weekly men’s group, with Coleman in prison, or one of my retreats.
Each container will (or should) feature a set of agreements, often spoken at the beginning of the meeting or container. Specific agreements vary from group to group, and may evolve over time. Here are a few basic agreements that I lead groups with.
Many of these agreements overlap, pointing toward a shared value around integrity (honoring our own agreements and experience), and honoring each other’s experience:
Confidentiality—What happens here and is said here, stays here. If you want to share with someone outside the circle, do not use names, and speak from your own experience.
“I heard a man say…”
Speak from ‘I’—In the circle, please speak from and about your own personal experience. Be aware of ways thay you may project your experience on others by using words like ‘you’, ‘always’, or ‘never.’
“I feel sad when I hear you say…”
Honesty—Be honest with each other, and with yourself.
Self-Awareness—remain open and aware of our yown experience, emotions, and judgements.
No Advice Giving—standard protocol for men’s groups.
This container is for witnessing, not for fixing.
Bringing it home
Imagine a time when you had something important to express, say, let out, or even confront someone with.
What happened?
How was it received?
What could have happened differently?
In what ways do you hold in, bottle up, or shut down what you have to say or express?
Why?
Considering these questions can help bring more awareness to the types of containers and relationships in which you can not only be your fullest self, but also cultivate your capacity for others’ experiences, and also create space for deeper connection and intimacy in your life.
If being a part of a container like this is interesting to you, consider joining a circle of men in November in the Pacific Northwest for my annual Fatherhood retreat.