One of the message boards I belong to asked what it means “to be a man.”
I usually think of Kiplings “If” when I first ponder this. In any event, I am responding by posting up one of my old 2 a.m. musings from back before I knew I had MS and had only extreme headaches waking me demanding I go to sleep. (note gender is unimportant to this)
A Good Man
A man is a lucky somebody who has grown out of the selfish myopic teenage years.
He is somebody capable of looking out at his world and what needs to be done,
what is being left undone by others be they capable or incapable.
A good man is introspective enough to know his talents and his passions.
Once he has looked both inward and outward, a good man may plot his path.
A good man never stops looking, both inward and outward for the only constant is change.
A good man is mindful of others and their perspectives.
A good man seeks solace and comfort in his efforts.
For if he can take comfort in his work, the fear of starting over need never discourage.
A good man is ever mindful of his footprints both in his family and community.
His life is marked by joys many who chose other lives never imagine much less enjoy,
whether it be pride in the path of those who follow
or the true company received only by the honest.
A good man does what he can, when he can, until he can’t.
At the end of the day, a good man can look in the mirror,
see the haggard face of any age and take solace in his life well lived.
I endeavor, though sometimes fail, to be the good man.
Don’t we all?
