Mankeeping

 I have been writing about masculinity ever since I revived my blog seven years ago (see here, here and here). And. I have written about benign masculinity which prevents sensitive men who would identify as feminists from being emotionally and platonically intimate with other men. And, my views on the subject have also evolved. Earlier, I used to think that men should be enoucraged to form platnic relationships with women. But, I have realised that men can use women as therpaists even in platonic relationships. Yes, we all take the role of therapists occasionally with close friends. But, if the roles of therapist and client are not being interchanged from time to time then it not a balance relationship. And, it is easy for a cishet man to befriend a woman he is not physically attracted to and use her as a therapist. This evening, I read an article on "mankeeping"--a term which describes the act of women taking on the emotinal burden of supporting the men in their life as the latter fail to form intimate and nurturing relationships with other men. The article was in line with most of my opinions but the bit that surprised me was the descriptions of close friendships between cishet men that involved physical affection. I think most cishet men have no idea how to distinguish between sexual and non-sexual physical touch. Like, how can gay or bisexual women be physically affectionate with their female friends in a platonic manner. 

Loneliness Won't Kill You

 Gallons of ink are being spilt in the media about the epidemic of loneliness. Someone on Twitte called it a massacre, which I think is an exaggeration at a time when Israel  till a few weeks ago was masssacring Palestinians in full view of the world. The reasons ascribed to this epidemic of loneliness are smart phones, the design of urban spaces in late capitalism, the ease of accesing porn. Loneliness has been correlated with a  mutltiutde of negative outcomes including poor mental health and shortened life spans. All likely true. But, I also believe that loneliness shouldn't be treated as a phathology in the same league as cancer, or auto-immune diseases or  severe depression or bipolar disorder. Loneliness might shorten your lifespan (which is not an ambiguously bad thing?) but it won't kill you. How big a social cirlce you have is a function of many things, many of which have nothing to do with you as a person. By all means, one should try to build a community, but it often doesn't work. I am all for personal growth, and for introveerts such as myself to un-shell themselves. But, you can do all these things and more and still not have a community after years of trying. Maybe you are stuck in a small town. Maybe you have disabilities that keep you from socializing. Maybe you have been just unlucky in terms of the people who you have crossed paths with. What then? One might not be able to build a close-knit community and banish loneliness, but one can take steps to improve the quality of one's life.  I have written before about the way to allevaite loneliness is to seek company or seek a better quality of solitude. Back then, by solitude I meant long pensive walks in the evening. My definition of solitude now is mroe expansive. It is anything you do by yourself. The most solitude-improving step for me in the past few weeks has been to buy a TV. Sometimes loneliness is a message to chagen something about your life (if possible) but most times it is just something to be managed. 

Life Lessons from Ruskin Bond

 I first read Ruskin Bond's autobiography Lonefox Dancing when I was coming out the of the most difficult phase of my life seven years ago. The book helped solidify some of the truths I had accessed during my healing journey, and seemed like its perfect culmination. It fortified me for the dauting prospect of returning to England to resume my PhD studies, after having fled from there nearly a year ago. The book was as comforting presence on my bedside table for years, before I put it away. Two weeks ago, I picked up the book again during a difficult patch, and it didn't disappoint. I thought I would write another of my "book raves", but then I went back and read my blog post about it, which I had written seven yearas ago. But, it turns out I don't have anything substantial to add to that rave ( I sometimes feel like my blog posts during the first few years were full of wise insights, and now I am emptied of wisdom. But that is a post for another day). The world has never been a kind place to sensitive people, and the patriarchy makes the path to wholeness especially tricky for straight men. But, one can and must make peace with one's nature, and learn to thrive. To aid in that process, Ruskin Bond's autobiography is as good a guide as any I have come across. And, it is sprinkled with just enough humour to leaven this oh-so-serious process. 

Run for (Which?) Refugees

 I participated in a run for refugees in New Haven, Connecticut on Sunday. It was snowing heavily the night before, and the only reason I made it is a colleague offered to pick me up. Half of the Amherst club that I sometimes run up driopped out due to the road conditions, although it was a pretty smooth ride once we reached the highway. I am a bit ashamed to say that I treated it jsut like a ny other race. Trying to fnish the 5K within 22 minutes was top of my mind, rather than the cause I was runing for. It didn't help that the speeches at the event spoke about refugees in the abstract, with a shroud of silence around the event that is producing an unprecedented number of refugees if one compares it to the total population of the country. Some participants were wearing the keffiyeh, and I wish I had brought mine. It hadn't even occured to me. And it could have lead to some awkwardness as I was travelling with a group whose views on Zionism are not known to me. We had lunch after the race, when a wondeful woman who works with refugees joined us. We had a long and interesting conversation about her work, but Palestine did not come up, and neither did I bring it up. Did it have to? Should a person's view on Paletine be a braometer of their virtue and their integrity, given that speaking up for Palestine carries different consequences for different people? On this question, it is easy to be too sanctimonious or too forgiving.

Running at -15C

This was my first time runnig at below -10C. My previous runs since I returned to Amherst were at the relatively balmy -2C to -4C. And, I was not prepared for -10C. My first mistake was to shed a layer too quickly. I galloped to the start of the group run because I was running late, and worked up a good sweat. It  At that point, shedding a my top layer and leaving it in the car of one of the group members seemed like a reasonable thing to do. But, as I had half-feared the group's pace was much slower than mine, and my body began to chill at a rapid pace. To make matters worse,, one of my laces came lose, and when I removed my gloves to tie them, I discovered a) my fingers were pretty numb and barely up to the task of tying my shoe laces 2) fingers expand in the cold, and its very difficult to put gloves back on in the cold. To be honest, I had learned this on one fo the balmier runs, but I had no other option. It was either that or run the risk of slipping on my own shoelaces. And, the most sure-footed runner would be bested by the combination of a loose shoelace and an icy patch. I don't know how I managed to tie my shoe-lace and carry on. Maybe beacuse I had to, because stopping in the middle of nowhere during a run in frigid conditions is not an option. And, in the last third of the race, my pacier running mate suddenly seemd to grow a new lung andset of at a scorching pace. I am significantly younger and longer-limbed than him but it was all I could do to keep up with him. And, on the icy patches he darted ahead like a prize figure-skater. We reached the end of the run not a minute to soon for me, adn then I discovered that I couldn't bend my fingers. My fingers had turned numb on the bike ride back from the supermarket yesterday so I thought I would regain sensation within a few mintes. Boy, was I wrong. After 10 minutes in my pacy friend's warm car, I began to worry if I had frost bite. Shortly after, we went inside a cafe and I had to ask a university colleague to pay for my coffee because I simply couldn't use my phone. The cafe itself felt quite cold and I didn't feel fully arm until I was in a hot shower back home. Even now, nearly 12 hours later my finger tips feel sore and sensitive to the touch. Its safe to say, I won't be running in these conditions any time soon.