The men's movement locally is catching fire.
After I talked with local therapist Stephen Paul about his activities in promoting the movement, he invited me to sit in on a session with one of his men's groups.The first thing I notice while waiting for the members of the group to arrive is a book Paul mentioned to me earlier, a paperback by Merle Fossum, a family therapist, called "Catching Fire: Men Coming Alive in Recovery" (Harper and Row, 1989). It is about men who survived life crises and how in the aftermath their spirit caught fire with a passion for a better way to live.
That's the theme of this session, although the book itself is never mentioned. Seated casually in a circle, the eight men of the group appear diverse but share some common problems that quickly emerge in their discussion.
They begin talking immediately with little prodding from Paul. One member begins the discussion by referring to the father of the men's movement, Robert Bly, and the theory in his best-selling book, "Iron John: A Book About Men" (Addison-Wesley, 1990), about the "inner king."
The "inner king," according to Bly, emerges because of the diminishment of the father and the "collapse of the outer king." Theoretically, every man has an "inner king" - "the one in us who knows what we want to do for the rest of our lives, or the rest of the month, or the rest of the day. He can make clear what we want without being contaminated in his choice by the opinions of others around us. The inner king is connected with our fire of purpose and passion."
One of the men in the group is excited by this concept. He says it is important for all men to be able to know what they want and to "get emotional about what means a lot to you." He expresses sorrow that he has been robbed of important time with his own father.
"I got a lot of integrity from my father, but I didn't see him a lot. He was busy building a business. The only time I remember spending with my father was going to work with him one or two times. There's something missing in my `inner king.' "
The man talks animatedly about the need he sees for the group to express more emotion and to more intimately connect with each other. He complains that in some other meetings the discussion has been too superficial.
The others are surprised by his call to action but they are willing to respond.
Paul says that the group can be as intimate as the members desire it to be. A second man jumps into that void and shares jumbled feelings about his divorce, raising his family, hiring and firing in his work and says, "My feelings are deeply hidden."
A third man complains that their discussion the previous week was too task-oriented. He says that when someone shares a personal experience, others in the group inevitably feel the urge to fix it. "I don't come here to be fixed. We need to move in a certain direction because we feel it."
A fourth man who stirred many feelings by his frank and personal comments the previous week expresses frustration that he bared his soul but got nowhere. "I gave of myself to you but I got nothing back. I want something back from you. I had a heart-breaking experience and I wanted to know if anyone else had a similar experience. But you said nothing, and I felt like a pariah."
Someone says, "I felt great sadness for you. When I heard your story it scared me. I felt bad that you had this nightmare to deal with."
The other man says, "Thank you, I needed that."
Paul speaks from the heart to the man, saying, "I want you to know I welcome you. I'm glad you're here. I feel passionately about it and we should talk about it."
The man encourages the others to feel the same - to feel open enough to reveal their inner feelings to each other.
Someone else asks if spending an hour and a half together is sufficient time to establish intimacy. Paul asserts that it is, "but it's hard to dive in. Sometimes we only skip across the rocks." He asks the group how deep they want to go.
One man says he feels frustrated hearing of someone's problems and not knowing what to do about it. They all agree that the important thing is to express empathy. One man says when he shared a personal problem all he needed was to know the group heard him and he received satisfaction.
Two other men share feelings about their inability to communicate with women. Both say their divorces occurred partly because they never could tell their wives what was bothering them. They relate it to their long-time inability to express their feelings to their mothers.
"I've always been afraid to say things to a woman. I never could say things to my mother. I blew a long marriage because I could not communicate. It was my fault. I never could tell her what I didn't like about her."
Most of the men have the most deep-seated animosity toward their fathers, and several relate stories about their fathers striking them, treating them with contempt and otherwise failing to understand their needs.
One man tells emotionally about the loss he felt when a squirrel died and his father gave him "a backhand across the face. I wanted to bury the squirrel. He thought I was a mama's boy. I've hidden those feelings since, because I love and respect my dad. I idealized my father so much that I was so ashamed that I couldn't be what my father wanted me to be."
Most agree that they grew up thinking they could not express their feelings. Two of the men relate experiences about feeling such anger that they broke their hands by smashing them into walls. The experience caused them to feel more repressed.
One man recalls, "My father was always beating the hell out of me. When I was 18 I hit him in the face. Afterward, I felt so calm. I felt like I had taken so much over the years that he deserved at least one shot. He had it coming."
A much younger man who has not said anything finally allows himself to be drawn into the conversation, and he shares some antagonistic feelings about a father whose whereabouts he doesn't even know. He says he would like to see him again even though the father spent virtually no time with him.
"What would you say to him?" one man asks.
"I would say that I love him and I forgive him," says the younger man.
All agree that this session has been more productive than the last and that the sharing of deeper feelings was therapeutic. At Paul's invitation they stand and form a circle with their arms around each other. Two of the men express to the younger man how happy they are to have heard more from him this time.
Despite a ferocious hailstorm outside, they share a feeling of genuine warmth as they race to their cars.
They'll all be back next week.- Dr. Stephen C. Paul, a Salt Lake City-based therapist, is sponsoring a men's retreat, called "Waking Up Male," Sept. 20-22 at Alta Lodge in Little Cottonwood Canyon. Cost is $300 double occupancy or $345 single occupancy, including accommodations, meals and refreshments, and seminars. Registration by Sept. 5 ensures a $10 discount. For more information write Stephen Paul c/o Golden Braid Books, 213 E. 300 South, Salt Lake City, UT 84111, or call 355-2526.