In 2106, the Dalai Lama, Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Douglas Abrams published The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World. It was a book based on Archbishop Tutu’s visit to the Dalai Lama’s home in Dharamsala, India, to celebrate His Holiness’s eightieth birthday and to create what they hoped would be a gift for others. Looking back on their long lives, they were asked to answer the question: How do we find joy in the face of life’s inevitable suffering? It is a wonderful book that not only answers this question but reveals the deep relationship between these two men.
Monday night, I watched the just released documentary, Mission Joy: Finding Happiness in Troubled Times, that was built from footage captured during the trip and was the essence of the book. A good deal of the documentary is Abrams interviewing these special men. Even as old men, they glow. They are brilliant, fierce, mischievous. They tease each other throughout and they laugh. Belly laughs. Constantly. But the most moving part for me was as they laugh, as they tell intimate and difficult stories, they reach for each other. They hold hands. They lock arms. Eyes. I choke up as I watch them and realize what I am watching is love.
Fast forward 12 hours. I am making my way to a trail for an early morning hike. At the head of the trail are two men arm in arm, one rubs the back of the other. My first thought is a loving gay couple out for an early morning hike. We exchange pleasantries and I hit the trail ahead of them. As I hike it occurs to me, I immediately assumed they were gay because heterosexual men don’t touch like that.
But they do!! I watched it 12 hours ago! Loving, confident, joyful men holding each other. It was beautiful.
So, why do I tell this story? I first must note that I live in a city with a large gay population and the likelihood that my fellow hikers were gay was high. But that fact doesn’t change much. The reality is no matter what trail I was coming upon that would have been my first thought and it bugs me. I am frustrated by the conditioning that inhibits men (Me!) from being fully open with their emotions verbally and physically. So, I tell the story as another step to shed the conditioning and invite you to join me.
How this post moves me! What you’ve written both warms my heart and stirs a pain. I myself don’t know the lavish freedom you’ve described, but I want it. I long for it. I accept your last line’s invitation.
🙏
Thanks for sharing Shaun. Impactful.
You’re welcome, Brad.
Thank you for that Shaun..your post gives me pause, I’m going to check out that documentary as well…
You’re welcome, Mike. Curious, how it gave you “pause?”
For 45 years, I lived a heteronormative life. I came out of the closet at 48. Pre-48 and post-48 have been incredibly different experiences with straight men in my life. Now that I’m out, a lot of the straight men with whom I’ve been friends for years are much more vulnerable with me about what they’re going through in life and a lot more physical with me. And new straight men in my life who are not threatened by homosexuality are almost immediately disarmed by my sexual orientation when they find out about it. It’s like they don’t have anything to prove. They don’t seem to mind our knees touching under a table, or our shoulders mashed up against each other at a crowded bar. In addition to experiencing this dynamic, I also think that at middle age, I seek out men who are living authentically, and in shedding the veneer they’ve built up over the decades, they are a lot more open to a higher degree of physicality. When we were boys we didn’t even hesitate to wrestle, headlock, and hang an arm on our friends. Probably the way it should have been all along. You touching me doesn’t make me think you’re gay or that you’re hitting on me. It makes me think you want connection.
Thanks for sharing, Guy. ✌️&❤️