The Male Dance

There is a special feeling of mutual understanding and respect that develops when men work at hard labor together. It is best when each knows what to do, digs in without instructions and joins the rhythm, the dance as happened this time. As tasks change and are completed, each moves to the next step without interrupting the dance. Conversation is limited, in fact, rarely needed, and is little more than bits of banter. But there is an awareness of what each of the other partners is adding to the dance. Each leads, each follows in turn, each carries his share of the labor and more. There is woven through the dance, a tapestry of respect, trust, shared skills, and memories that bind. One looks and thinks, "This is how men work, and I am one of them. I am accepted in this dance of men. I am a man." Such an experience is essential from time to time to every man so he can take his own measure and assure his heart that his place in this world is secure.


Last Thursday I had the joy of having three of my "seven sons" come and assist in removing 11 cottonwood trees. There was heat, dust, noise, and physical labor plenty. But I will cherish the "dance" that ensued for a long time. A special part that made my heart swell with pride was when I looked up and saw "our women" who were there, pitching in and working, too. They stacked, pulled, and hauled along side the men. Perhaps it is a strange thing to feel such a mundane experience is so special, but to me it is. More importantly, I know the family members who were not there due to distance, work commitments, or health situations would have and could have joined in the "dance" were they able to arrange it. These bindings, whether they come from working side by side, hiking Timp, wading the Narrows, birthing a child, making a home, or living and forgiving together, are the bindings of eternity. These bindings are as strong and eternal as any other.