Four Stone Circle Man

A man asked me what the graphic at left was all about. So here goes.

I am in an I-Group in a California small town. A couple years back, when the group was created, I needed a graphic to sort of launch the group.

In the ManKind Project, we use the four male archetypes of the Lover, Warrior, Magician, and King
as part of our processes. So I started there.

The IGroup is called the Four Stone Circle and that gave me a point of reference. I created the stones of the archetype initials from a round stone graphic I found on the Internet. From there I used a stick-figure drawing I created in Photoshop. The graphic just started to have a life of its own.

The gold coloring is the gold we men all have in us. The circle represents the circle of men that meet every Thursday night in my small town and the greater circle of all men. The lettered stones are the four archetypes. He wears a talisman from his New Warrior Training Adventure weekend. The petroglyph-like man carries an object. It is up to you to interpret its meaning. I have found men really get involved in what the object is and what it means. I'd love to hear what you think.

Also, I must confess that the man is not wearing a loin cloth, except on this blog. More for you to ponder.

I'm out.
Old-faithful Wolf


I Invite...You!

I love this video. Men...ManKind Project men...reaching out to invite you!

I love it. I invite you! Listen for 3 minutes and see if this speaks to you.

Come on...take the risk.

I'm out.
Old-faithful Wolf


The Vast Grayness

This article touched something in me...maybe my sadness that men are struggling to feel anything. Or maybe that many people...males and females...struggle to feel anything.

So, I am asking you to reach out and take a risk. Take the New Warrior Training Adventure. It's a step in the right direction...to feeling your feelings, knowing them, and living in them.

I think that's a good thing.

I'm out.
Old-faithful Wolf


Mad, Sad, Glad, Fear, Shame


By Peter Putnam

I had read thousands of books. I had written a novel, a screenplay, hundreds of poems, a master's thesis on Melville.

But I was emotionally illiterate.

"What are you feeling?"

When I was asked that, usually by a woman, words, usually my best friends in the world, would flee. A great abyss of silence would open up. Vast grayness.

"I don't know. OK, I guess."

Then, at 42, I went on the Mankind Project's New Warrior Training Adventure weekend.

"What are you feeling?" asked this guy wearing sweats and built like a linebacker. Looking at him, I would have expected a different kind of question — maybe, "How much can you bench press?"

"I don't know. I'm feeling good."

"'Good' isn't a feeling," he said. "Mad, sad, glad, fear or shame?" he asked, ticking each one off on a thick finger. "Pick one."

I couldn't, at first. It took me a minute. I ran through each one on my own fingers — mad, sad, glad, fear, shame — trying them out. I was getting a little frustrated — was "frustrated" a feeling? I looked at the guy, expecting him to be showing signs of one of the many impatient coaches I had played for, the impatient father I had grown up with: Will you hurry up already, for chrissake? Men who didn't have time for feelings. But he was just standing there calmly, arms behind his back, giving me the time to get out of my head and feel whatever it was I was feeling. I ticked them off on my fingers again, slowly this time: mad? sad? glad? fear? shame?

"Sad," I finally said. "I'm feeling sad." And I suddenly felt the tears forming in my eyes, my body telling me I had picked correctly.

"Good," he said. "Your sadness is welcome here."

Hearing that for the first time in my life — your sadness is welcome here — released the tears. I felt them rush down my face without feeling a drop of shame.

—From The Song of Father-Son