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By James Greenshields

I begin, childish and heroic of mind. Happy, eager and excited to be seen and to affect. 

Soon I become lost, confused and scared. I know not what is sacred and steel my heart.

I know not who I am, why I have come, what I am meant to give. 

Collapse is inevitable, necessary, yet I fight it with all my might.

Might exhausts for it emerges from my separate self. 

I am tired. 

I harbour adversarial eyes and compete against to validate my place justifying through egoic speeches of legacy. 

I claim ownership over anything and everything I feel identifies me as a man, yet this fickleness has stained my very core. 

I attach myself to people, groups, things in a vain attempt to belong. Without knowing me, I become them. They fuel me. I need them. I fear rejection for they are my fuel, my identity, my all. 

I am numb.

The hollowness is too large to ignore, it grows like a never ending night; the eyes of the dark witch haunt my dreams. Death is coming and I know my heart will not survive judgement against the feather. 

Death speaks volumes in its silence. It looks, sees all, a necessary reflection. 

I must die. 

The phoenix takes it’s last breath and combusts. 

The fire is intense; fuelled by the winds of change. 

I find something within; a strength; a metal; a passion.

Assisted by resistance; friction and turbulence; 

In the throws of the dying serpent, I seize my will from the dark witch. 

I am born anew. 

I stand forged from within, assisted from without.

I am alive.

In owning my not enoughness, I surrender my services to the whole and adopt my position in the collective. 

Anger has been purified to passion; fear to excitement;

Love now fuels my fire. 

I stand in a love that cannot be rejected for it holds no attachment. 

I see through the veil of Isis to Truth and act accordingly. 

I protect no one, yet my core will resonate with many emanating an inner power that creates surety; a knowingness; a certainty. 

I belong to the collective with the strength to stand alone or amongst. 

My value is no longer my DOing, but my BEing. 

I alone give myself permission; I am the Author of my Ship

Honour is my guide to the higher planes; my gift, given and received.

They may think of me what they will; I know Who I Am; What I stand for and have mastered my expression. 

I have found my Home Tree.

I am a Man. 

Much love

If you’re interested in developing yourself as a leader of men, check out Man On The Rise: A Mystical Dive To Male Mastery

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