MBS 4ever
Over fifteen years ago, all of my twelve closest guy friends were gathered together at someone's house, shooting the breeze on a Friday night, when I announced, "I hereby call to order the first meeting of the Male Bonding Society." And thus began the Society's first Male Bonding Session. Both the Society as a group and the countless individual sessions we had would ultimately be shortened to "MBS."
MBS was organized to give us guys a safe outlet to share our innermost thoughts with complete, brutal, and vivid honesty. Oh sure, most of our content centered around girls; after all, we were high-school boys. But there was a surprising depth to our discourse as well: one member shared how he had held a grudge against another member since junior high, another talked through a recent death in the family, and many weighed in on issues of spirituality and eternity.
I can't begin to tell you how awesome a feeling it was to have a group of solid guys with whom you could pour out your soul, who you trusted enough to heed -- without wavering -- the one real (though rarely repeated) rule of MBS: nothing leaves this room. It was like confessional, only if your priest was your best friend who you egged on about girl trouble and cackled over fart jokes with. And when you didn't have to sugar-coat or censor or hold back, it was quite a liberating thing.
I believe that most of us go through most of our lives not totally being ourselves. Some of this is appropriate: learning the social norms of different settings is part of being an adult and a professional. And some information is "too much" at some times and with some people. But some of our inauthenticity is because of a lack of comfort with ourselves and a lack of trust in those around us. We're afraid of letting others, even those closest to us, see who we really are, and are suspicious that if we did, they'd use that knowledge to hurt us or think less of us.
When we live with these constraints, we're not fully ourselves and we're not fully living life. And so I wish for more openness and liberation. And I'm thankful for the close friends in my life, and of course my wife, where I can and do experience this kind of honesty and acceptance. And I smile with a grateful heart at those MBS's I had over fifteen years ago, when thirteen young men mixed into their high-school hijinks and hormonal erraticness some meaty portions of deep sharing and meaningful encouragement and iron-clad discretion. And maybe, 15+ years later, we might figure out a way to reunite, share old stories and tell new ones, and have one more MBS just like back in the day. MBS 4ever!
MBS was organized to give us guys a safe outlet to share our innermost thoughts with complete, brutal, and vivid honesty. Oh sure, most of our content centered around girls; after all, we were high-school boys. But there was a surprising depth to our discourse as well: one member shared how he had held a grudge against another member since junior high, another talked through a recent death in the family, and many weighed in on issues of spirituality and eternity.
I can't begin to tell you how awesome a feeling it was to have a group of solid guys with whom you could pour out your soul, who you trusted enough to heed -- without wavering -- the one real (though rarely repeated) rule of MBS: nothing leaves this room. It was like confessional, only if your priest was your best friend who you egged on about girl trouble and cackled over fart jokes with. And when you didn't have to sugar-coat or censor or hold back, it was quite a liberating thing.
I believe that most of us go through most of our lives not totally being ourselves. Some of this is appropriate: learning the social norms of different settings is part of being an adult and a professional. And some information is "too much" at some times and with some people. But some of our inauthenticity is because of a lack of comfort with ourselves and a lack of trust in those around us. We're afraid of letting others, even those closest to us, see who we really are, and are suspicious that if we did, they'd use that knowledge to hurt us or think less of us.
When we live with these constraints, we're not fully ourselves and we're not fully living life. And so I wish for more openness and liberation. And I'm thankful for the close friends in my life, and of course my wife, where I can and do experience this kind of honesty and acceptance. And I smile with a grateful heart at those MBS's I had over fifteen years ago, when thirteen young men mixed into their high-school hijinks and hormonal erraticness some meaty portions of deep sharing and meaningful encouragement and iron-clad discretion. And maybe, 15+ years later, we might figure out a way to reunite, share old stories and tell new ones, and have one more MBS just like back in the day. MBS 4ever!
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