family members are not aware of. I know what scares them. I know what excites them. I know what keeps them up at night and what keeps them going the next day. They know me better than some of my best friends. I trust them all implicitly. We’ve been together for less than a week. As the sun starts to set behind the mountain, Aaron, the former Green Beret, speaks. “Guys, sometimes I feel like I’m running on one cylinder. But right now, we’re a well-oiled machine. We’re running on all cylinders. We created this engine. So let’s harness all the power, love, acceptance, and gratitude we’ve experienced and let’s take it back into the world. Let’s take this love back into our relationships, into our jobs, into the strangers we meet on the street, and into our communities. Let’s make this world a better place.” Forming a bond even with someone you have just met can be a life-changing experience.
IT’S DAY 4 of the re-
treat and Andrew from Alaska is sitting on a log, crying intensely. I walk over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. We sit together. “I’m not ready to be a father,” he says in between sobs. Andrew tells me that he and his wife are adopting her sister’s kids. Their father died and their mother is not in a position to take care of them. They need a family. They need a dad. It’s the right thing to do. And so they’re living with Andrew. “I’m so scared I’m going to fuck them up,” he says. He’s crying so hard he’s shaking. The violence surprises him. “What’s happening?” he says. “I need to lie down.” I help him to the ground. He’s shaking so much he can’t control it. A few other guys come over. One bends down and grabs Andrew’s ankles. Another touches his arm. Dan walks over, bends down, and puts his hand directly on Andrew’s chest, palm open. He speaks in a quiet but firm voice. “You’ve been holding this shit in for so long, Andrew. Let yourself feel it. We’re right here.” Andrew lets out a small yelp. His face is wet with tears. I look at the faces of the other men around me, their eyes soft and watery. We sit there and let Andrew cry. I feel a deep sense of what I can only describe as love wash over me, flooding every part of my body. After a few moments, Andrew starts to get his bearings. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.” His crying turns to soft laughter. “Holy shit,” he says under his breath. “Holy shit.”
Later, on the trail, I catch up with Dan to ask him what happened. “Andrew’s been wound so tight, but being out here in nature with us opened him up,” he says. “He’s likely never allowed himself to feel that deeply.” I look behind us. Andrew is walking up the trail, smiling and looking off into the distance, his arms swinging freely. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
O
U R L A S T N I G H T in the
woods. Around the fire, Dan asks us if we know what a drip torch is. “A drip torch is a handheld fuel tank with a long spout, filled with a mixture of 30 percent gasoline and 7o percent diesel,” he says. “Wildland firefighters use drip torches to ignite prescribed burns. They walk around and drip flaming liquid on the ground to start fires on purpose.” These small fires have two objectives, Dan explains. They influence the behavior of larger, more destructive fires and stop them from burning everything. And they remove excess debris, renew the ground, and start a new phase of natural growth in an ecosystem. Sometimes the best thing you can do— for yourself, for the people you love, for the world—is to walk around and start your own fires. To talk about how you feel, express your emotions. Sure, it takes courage. But if you let it do its work, the fire will help you grow. We stand and gather into a circle, our arms around each other. Over the past few days, I’ve learned some things about these guys that their closest friends and
THE DAY I GET OUT of the woods, my girlfriend of ten years breaks up with me. I barely have time to put down my backpack. I did not see this coming. We sit on the couch and talk for three hours. She tells me that for the past year she’s felt like she’s had one foot in and one foot out of the relationship. I tell her I have so much love and respect for her. I tell her I support her completely. I tell her that we’ll both be fine. It’s the most challenging thing I’ve ever done. Then she’s out the door to stay with a friend for the night. She will later tell me that that conversation was the most open and connected she’d ever felt with me. She’ll tell me that a wall came down. That there was no ego. That she felt like I really saw her. A couple hours later, I get a text from Charlie, one of the guys from the Evryman retreat. He tells me he’s taking an extra week off before he heads back home. He’s going to drive through my town and wants to know if I want to hang out. I tell him what happened. About my relationship. About everything. He responds immediately: “I’m sorry, man. But I’m pumped for you. Take care of yourself for the night. I’ll be there tomorrow.” I turn off my phone, sit on the couch, and do what Dan taught me: I check in with myself. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I allow myself to feel my emotions fully. I allow life to move through me. The tremors come. The tears flow and I can taste the salt in my open, smiling mouth. NATE GREEN writes about health and fitness. His website is nategreen.org. MEN’S HEALTH
/ December 2018
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