My Superpower

A much needed moment of stillness today! A warm cup of tea, a burning candle, some soft music pulling at my heartstrings and the gift of tears I was in need of had arrived. I wept for the people in my life who struggle, for humanity at large, for what's been lost, accompanied by a palpable sense of awe in being able to feel in this moment with this body. What a gift! One of my superpowers it turns out but it took a long time to figure this out.

My multi dimensional, non medical self care approach requires that I am regularly finding this place in myself and checking in. The real turning point for me and my mental health was when I learned to cry again. But it’s more than just crying - it’s understanding that my emotional depth is a primary strength and a sign of my relative health. One of the questions the people close to me know to ask when they sense I may be getting out of balance is, “When was the last time you cried?” If it’s been a while, I know I need to find the stillness I found today and get this vast emotional landscape moving. A vital sign of health for me and a great way to avoid the grand event!

During my younger years, I buried these emotions out of shame of what I thought a “real man” should be. Here is the heart of the matter for me: My struggle was rooted in trying to escape the feelings I thought were wrong with me. The persistence of learned anxiety from my encounters with the biomedical narrative pushed me further away from the truth of my emotional nature. The anxiety was just the flip side of these unacknowledged sensitivities.

My sensitivities needed to be nurtured, not suppressed. My heightened experiences labeled as part of my hypomania were primarily a reaction to the repression of these feelings. I’ve come to realize that to navigate these sensitivities without medication I must care for these places and allow myself to feel and be guided by what comes up. A spiritual path unfolded before me and relearning to cry was the gateway.

I recall my early attempts at therapy, where the first questions were always: What’s wrong? What are your issues? I entered these sessions disempowered, desperately wanting someone else to tell me what was wrong and what I should do. I was quickly given an answer, which, in hindsight, was detrimental to my mental health. My emotions were primarily framed as symptoms. I was told I could become a danger to myself without medication. This only worsened my anxiety, making it harder to explore the dysfunction and trauma I needed to understand.

There were definitely things I needed to start exploring but my superpower was needed consciously by my side to do the necessary heavy lifting. The self compassion and heart wisdom from my empowered superpower was a vital missing ingredient to the transformation waiting to happen. What if the initial question was what are your gifts? Maybe your challenging feelings are manifesting from lack of insight and care into these strengths? How about we come up with some practices to support these gifts? It’s easy to see the possibility of transformation revealing itself within a few simple questions.

Someone recently asked me, “What is your favorite gift?” I’m not sure anyone has ever asked me that before. After a few tears, of course, with a smile on my face I answered emphatically: Empathy! A sense of celebration comes with saying this out loud. This question was asked in the context of our shared experiences that have been labeled bipolar in the past. This was never a question during my first experiences or any of the times I looked to the biomedical model for help. It’s actually thought to encourage the crazy with such questions and ideas from the biomedical model. But my transformation from disease to gift with challenges has brought me to the importance of not only regularly connecting with my heart but learning to own it as the gift it is. The question and the overall framework such a question is asked from is fundamental to how I view and care for my mental health.

It brings me to my first experience and what I was already denying about myself as these events unfolded. My superpower had long been buried and was pushing for release. At 16, I was suddenly thrust far beyond my sense of self. My ego was shattered. The reality I was being raised in was falling apart. A confusing and terrorizing place to be as a teenager who, until then, was living in one seemingly solid reality. I realize now at an early age I started denying aspects of my true nature that didn’t fit the mold - Big boys don’t cry! It was as if a dam had burst with a flood of emotions and sensitivities. My true nature could not be contained. There was a lot of beauty in this moment, but it was quickly overshadowed by the dominant realities reaction, the void of models and context, along with the anxiety and terror to follow.

An emotional young man didn’t fit into the narrow definition of “normal” being presented. My emotions were seen primarily as symptoms. The crushing sense of empathy, just a symptom. I learned quickly to keep some of my experiences to myself or risk being labeled “nuts”. The story of sickness and disease took hold and lingered for much of my life, creating more difficulty than the actual experiences themselves. Here is the beginning of only one possible manifestation of what is possible. A difficult road taking me farther away from any sense of healing, transformation, and actualization of gifts. I forgot how to cry and it really wasn't until I reacquainted myself with this innate part of myself that I began to heal and transform. But it didn’t need to take most of my adult life!

I needed the right kind of community. Peers with similar lived experiences, for sure! But where were the sensitive male elders? Where were the men who knew how to cry? The men who understood that vulnerability is a path to true masculine power? Part of what I really needed in the beginning was a circle of men that recognized these gifts within themselves and me.

In my mid-20s, I began searching for these men. I joined my first men’s group, where I was the youngest, surrounded by men grappling with midlife issues or the challenges of being gay in a heteronormative world. I learned a lot from these men. Iron John by Robert Bly had just been published, and I devoured it, along with the wave of books on male issues that followed. The metaphor of the wild man trapped in the pond resonated deeply. My emotional wild nature, buried for so long, was crying out from beneath the surface, waiting to be released. At the time the only true uninhibited glimpses of my wild man came during some of my heightened experiences that were labeled hypomania.

Witnessing a grown man grapple with his feelings was revelatory to me within these circles. I could see my own wild, repressed emotional self trying to awaken, but the anxiety and trauma from my early experiences, along with the singular story of the biomedical model, acted as a solid wall between my head and heart. I was blocked from embracing the gifts within me, caught in the struggle to reconnect my mind and emotions. The head and the heart severed and unsure of how to reconnect. The masculine disease of our times!

To transform collectively from the trauma we’re all going through, us dudes either need to figure out how to cry again or get out of the way. Maybe, we just need to get out of the way, regardless. We’re all stuck within systems that are acting out the unresolved issues of these patriarchal wounds. The severed head and heart wreaking havoc on the planet and anyone that doesn't fit the mold.

We are all in desperate need of some new stories and myths! The preschool teacher in me thinks it’s time for a new male superhero. One that knows how to cry, connected to his own wounding, a humbled ego, knows how to defer to the wisdom of the divine feminine, the wisdom of the oppressed. Not here to save the day but to acknowledge and genuinely feel the generational trauma inflicted by our dying patriarchal systems. A man strong enough to acknowledge this pain and his part. A man willing to step aside and be led, not lead. The power of shared grief is understood as needed alchemy. Maybe some fancy tights, a medicine pouch, and a Kleenex holster to help fit in with the other superheroes?

There’s usually a few moments each school year when the kids witness me with tears. Sometimes It’s grief. Sometimes it’s awe as I witness pure human potential unfolding around me. As an educator, I see these occasions as some of the best teaching moments. Usually, the kids will circle around me with intense curiosity and support. A sacred moment, especially, for the boys. I'll take my time in these moments making sure all questions are answered as I try to model a healthier way of seeing the strengths of masculinity and how important tuning in to our rich emotional landscape is to being human.

The families at the school all know about my superpower; it's why they’re here. It’s why my program is so popular and has a wait list. It’s rare to find a sensitive dude caring for your child, and many families recognize how important it is to expose their children to this.

Part of the health I experience in my life today comes from doing heart-centered work that is deeply respected. My business model requires me to care for and emphasize these gifts. My work and spiritual path are entwined, mutually supportive. At this point, they are almost inseparable. Finding this path has been crucial to my transformation and ongoing health. To be seen and valued for one’s gifts is good for your mental health!

Here’s a few visual testimonials from several of my current kiddos. My superpower in action! In both I’m throwing hearts at everyone. The one with the frown is throwing fire hearts. I like how they represent the balance of fierce grace and gentle grace needed to do this work, and the work of loving and caring for one’s self. I can ride the rainbow and gently throw hearts or, if needed, I’m not afraid to put some heat behind it.

In embracing my emotional depth, I have not only found a path to personal healing but also to a more holistic way of living and working. The journey has led me to understand that vulnerability is not a weakness but a wellspring of strength, a cornerstone for growth, and a vital component of true masculinity. As I continue to learn, I hold space for my emotions, knowing they are the bridge to my deeper self, the key to connection, and the foundation for a more compassionate world. Perhaps the real superpower we all possess is the courage to feel and to share with others—especially when it is hardest to do so. It is this ongoing journey, rooted in heart and vulnerability, that holds the potential to heal not only ourselves but the collective spirit of those around us.

Much Love!

The Mad Preschool Teacher

He/Him