How To Sell Your Wife On The Dream (Part 2)

This is a followup to a previous post on the same topic.

You see the future so clearly:

The business you’ll build, the money you’ll make, the wild freedom you’ll unleash in your life.

You share the vision with your wife:

Instead of joy in her eyes, you see… fear.

Fear of it all going to shit.

Fear the so-called “family adventure” you describe will be, in fact, your own solitary, alienating slog.

“Wait, what?” you say. “Don’t you see? This is for US!”

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The Illusion Of (No) Choice

You wake to routines that numb you.

You stumble to the kitchen for your morning hit of sugary-something.

You smile with your mouth at the kids as they walk blinking to the table, your eyes blank.

You dress for work, slack-faced to the mirror, preparing again to offer yourself in daily sacrifice upon the altar.

“Choices.”

A word that no longer sparks anything in you.

You *know* that choices are the key to creating a better life.

But when it comes to actually pulling the trigger… to actually making game-changing choices… there are so many compelling reasons why you in fact “can not.”

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Honor The Animal

In times of danger, they love the beast inside you:

The adrenaline-junked strength by which you pluck a drowning child from the torrent.

The pulsing veins as you rack the 12 gauge at the break of glass.

But outside of these rare emergencies, they beg you: “bury that beast inside you. Bury it so far down we never have to look at it.”

And so you come to believe the beast in you–that animal power–is some kind of horrific, cataclysmic weapon, to be unleashed only as a means of last resort.

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The Man In The Forest

A man stood transfixed in a clearing.

He looked out through the forest at the lake a stone’s toss away.

He listened to the loon call echoing over the water.

He smelled the vanilla sap of the pines.

He imagined the cabin he would build: the fieldstone fireplace, the wide-plank floor, the skylight that would open upon the wind-cleaned stars.

His heart beat in his chest as though to burst, the vision whirling until he could no longer contain it… until he was compelled to begin the building, to make it manifest.

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If You Love Her Let Her Go

A couple weeks ago, I mentioned to a friend that I’d spent the previous weekend alone at a cabin doing some writing and recording.

He stared at me and said “how did you sell your wife on THAT?”

I was surprised for a moment… and then reminded that this kind of freedom within marriage is the exception in our culture.

Most of us have been brainwashed into believing that a “good marriage” is one in which husband and wife spend every waking moment together…

…that the more shared friendships, shared interests, and shared activities the better…

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Sex Begins In The Garage

There’s this phrase (and book) floating around: “sex begins in the kitchen.”

…The idea being that husbands can experience higher quantity and quality of sex by actively creating more intimacy in the marriage (with “help around the house” being one of several ways of doing that).

And while I agree with the emphasis on building intimacy (what I call “creating the conditions”), I strongly disagree with the unfortunate kitchen metaphor, because doing feminine chores in hopes it will lead to more and better sex is a fundamentally flawed approach.

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Wrong About You

Question:

What if all the so-called “fucked up” aspects of your personality are indication NOT of a deficient character but of deficient SELF-UNDERSTANDING?

In other words… what if you’re wrong about yourself?

A few weeks ago, I caught myself brooding on something, as usual, and suddenly wondered “why am I so DISSATISFIED all the time? What’s my problem?”

But then, a moment later, another thought: “these goals I’ve set for myself… this life I’m working to build… what kind of man would I have to be to achieve them? NOT a contented, peaceful one. I would have to be driven and restless. Just as I am!”

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BE THE KING

When you were a boy, you dreamed of the day you would be king.

Of the day you would marry, have children, own lands… of the day you would be loved, feared, venerated.

You saw the way of the king, and you knew in your belly that this was your call: to live a life of benevolent power.

But somewhere along the way, the dream was corrupted.

For we saw that kings can be craven.

We saw that kings can be cruel.

And when the queens of the land bristled in unison… men, seeking to appease them, broke the scepter over their own knees.

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The New You

You come back from the mountain or the silent retreat or the conference:

You are a CHANGED man.

You see it all so clearly: how things were, and how they now will be.

Everything you do is infused with the shock of your new power: the way you brush your teeth, the way you put on your pants, the way you lift the lid of the frying pan.

You are now, finally, in the light.

You think back, shaking your head in amusement at the old stupors. Ah, to finally be free of all that, for your course to be gathered and clear, for your life to be one pure line of action.

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Free The Man (They Are Broken Without You)

You’ve been told your entire life that you are vile, perverted, dirty, foul, sick because you are a man.

And so, after the first shock in boyhood, you began what has become an endless project of masculine suppression:

Of measured words, softened voice, double-checks, preemptive apology, self doubt.

Well fuck that.

Because those who incriminated you, the ones who made you guilty by gender… who taught you to abhor yourself, to mistrust your core… who treated you like a broken animal in need of constant watch… who made you feel like you were at all times just one misstep away from exile…

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