by Francis Tybislawski, Brisbane, Australia
I attended a Universal Medicine presentation recently, hosted by Serge Benhayon, where there was discussion about how men interact with each other, and the types of conversations they have. In general men are very good at talking or interacting in a certain way and about certain subjects. It is very easy for us to discuss technical things, how things work, how we build things, how we make things work, and what we do for a living. We can discuss sport for hours on end and we discuss things at home, but often in a clinical and structured way. We may venture into how certain things feel, but it is often from a competitive angle. In some ways many conversations are competitive, always proving (or trying to) that our lives are better than other men’s lives, the things we own or have are better than somebody else’s. We use our assets to prove we are doing fine, that our lifestyle is great and consistently growing better.
What we don’t often do is communicate at the human level, about feelings and emotions, in an open and personal way. The closest most men would get to talking about a feeling is to say “I felt like &$*%”, and that would probably be after boasting at length about how drunk they got on the weekend, again showing that they can do that better than the other person. To summarise, most conversations men have are very structured, they stay within rigid boundaries, and going outside those boundaries is not something most men can or will ever do.
A few days ago I had a brief conversation with a fellow worker near the end of an eight hour shift. I have been working on and off with this man for five weeks teaching him a specific role, how to do certain tasks, how to manage certain situations, what needs to be documented and how it is documented. I wasn’t alone in this task as my colleague has also had tuition from others during this period. This day, however, was his assessment on his ability to perform the task on one of the busiest days of the week, to manage all the work himself, and deal with any situations or incidents that developed. He did have some unusual situations arise and he managed them well, ultimately passing the assessment easily. After his assessment I had a brief opportunity to chat with him about the assessment, how he thought it went, and some of the situations he had to deal with. I was also able to offer some additional information from my former role to help explain one incident he dealt with in more detail.
Nothing unusual so far, just a typical man-to-man conversation about work. At this point I felt to share something more personal with him.
Rather than continue that typical man-to-man type of conversation, I just had to express something else, and I don’t know why this came up, it came as a feeling which I then let articulate into a few words. I looked him straight in the eyes and simply expressed that I was quite impressed with how quickly he had learned this new role.
It was as simple as that.
There was no competitive-ness or comparison.
There was an acknowledgement of equality between us.
We had connected in a very different way to what he and I were accustomed to, and I could tell from his face and expression that he too felt the difference deeply. I felt a warmth suddenly fill my body, I felt a sense of expansion within like I was filling up some empty space inside that had been missing for ages. At this very moment I felt like I was going to burst into tears.
Why, I’m not totally sure, but I believe it is due to the fact that, as men, we rarely if ever speak so openly to each other about the personal things in life. I was feeling the built up sadness within from holding that back for so long, and for missing it for so long. I had crossed that boundary line, ever so briefly, where men’s conversations typically and purposefully avoid going because it isn’t seen as being a manly quality. It doesn’t fit that strong, hard, macho image that is pushed into us throughout life, in almost everything we see and do. It certainly felt very different, a little uncomfortable, but very uplifting. It was like part of a long held burden was lifted and I felt so much lighter and freer than ever before.
Once again I can only thank Serge Benhayon, and others involved with Universal Medicine, for simply presenting that there can be a different way of living; a way that is much more meaningful, and lovely to experience.