Arriving to my fourth consecutive MLA Spirit Camp, I eagerly drove the paved road past Jamestown making my way onto the dirt road into Cal Wood. Like many men, I struggled to get away from my busy life, all the commitments and obligations of work and family, but now they are all trailing behind me.

Upon entering the Cal wood Lodge, an old style Western log lodge, a tenuous pitter patter beats in my chest, the fear of the unknown, the excitement of the journey ahead. I see many familiar faces, brothers with whom I’ve sat in large and small circles. A quick tasty dinner, potato leek soup, the sense of being served, of being off from daily life, and I begin to arrive.

The call to line up for the first circle of the evening is called by age. Men thirty nine and early forties are ahead of me and behind, thirty seven and under. I feel young and lucky that I’ve joined this circle so soon in life. We walk one at a time into the circle and take our seats, slowly inching our way like one big caterpillar, ensuring each seat is taken with no gaps in between. I look out at the wheel of men, awed by the chronology of life before me.

As we begin a brief check in with a weighty elk’s leg as a talking piece, I witness the emotional spectrum of fear, anger, joy, and pain in the voices of others. One man speaks and thirty something listen. A beautiful large silk rainbow tapestry lies in front of us, sewed together by one of the men’s wife. The speaker reveals the maxim that one man’s story is every man’s story. As I so often forget, I suddenly remember that we come together to be fully human again, sorting out story from information, deep listening from shallow hearing. Connection sows its roots.

Within the hour, we break into small groups, seeking out through intuition who we are called to intimate ourselves with over the course of the weekend. I do this like a man blind folded, far from a pro, but with enough experience to know that I can start by stopping the babble in my head, the obligatory thinking, and surrender to the deeper listening. The groups start to emerge and I’ve fallen into place, ingesting the presence of the four other men around me.

The small groups scatter to respective places and within minutes, we deepen. I’m in awe at how ready these men are to drop in and begin the work. One man strives to be less serious with his kids and another desires to be less of a clown with his. Worlds apart yet worlds together. One in the yin and the other in the yang.

I came to seek healing, peace of mind. My wife has been very sick for many months and I need brotherly support, encouragement to fight on for my family. Whereas alone I felt weak and failing, with other men I experience courage and blessing. I am home, supported by other men willing to experience the sacred shadows of the heart, spiritual warriors to whom I feel akin.

And this is just the beginning of an amazing heartfelt weekend that will resonate with me for weeks to come.