Four Things About Robert Bly That May Surprise You

Poet, author, and thought-leader Robert Bly turned 90 last year on Friday, December 23^rd. His name will be forever associated with the mythopoetic men’s movement, a loosely-knit group of men, scattered across the country, that gathered during the late 1980s and early 1990s to sing, drum, dance, and reconnect with their bodies. Bly’s book “Iron John” was their inspiration. In that book, he holds that modernization has caused an identity crisis in the modern American male, a crisis that can only be solved by reconnecting with and giving voice to grief; by being initiated into adulthood by older men; and by reconnecting with the earth. The movement gained huge popularity after Bill Moyers interviewed Bly in 1990 in “A Gathering of Men” on PBS. Although the movement was widely criticized, and at times ridiculed, it was the first time, for many men, that we connected with our emotions — the first time they gave themselves permission to feel. Public attention on the mythopoetic men’s movement lasted about five years, but the weekend events and the relationships forged there changed the lives of many men forever and inspired some men’s groups that still exist, such as The Mankind Project.

Bly’s legacy is getting renewed interest and attention since the release last year of “A Thousand Years of Joy”, a film about his life and work. It’s an intimate portrait of a multi-faceted man. Bly’s influence on American culture goes way beyond the mythopoetic men’s movement; his contributions are vast and wide-ranging. Here are some aspects of his life that may surprise you:

Bly made it okay to be introverted. Both through the example of his life, and through his writing, Robert Bly represents the cultivation of self-knowledge through solitude. During his years living in New York City in the early 1950s, he lived in a rented room and met few other poets. Years later, as a successful author and a National Book Award winner, when young students asked for advice on what it takes to become a poet, he’d tell them to live alone for two years and not talk to anyone, because without an experience of solitude, a poet’s words won’t carry the authority of self-knowledge.

But his thirst for solitude and love for the inner life was always balanced by a passion for social justice and a moral outrage against human cruelty. “American Writers Against the Vietnam War” was an organization he founded, with fellow poet David Ray, to provide a vehicle for American intellectuals to voice their opposition to that war. Bly became a frequent sight on college campuses and at anti-war rallies, demonstrations, and teach-ins, bringing his anger over the war to life with poems that had a personal, intimate quality to them. Unlike other political writers who simply gushed their anger onto the page, Bly was introspective and fearless, and wrote poems that were carefully crafted, as in these lines from “Counting Small-Boned Bodies”:

If we could only make the bodies smaller

Maybe we could get

A whole year’s kill in front of us on a desk!

As a sensitive intellectual, Bly provides a model for younger men in this country who may be seeking an alternative to the stereotyped forms of masculinity seen in the media (and taken to an extreme by our president-elect). Their experience is of a man who is sensitive to feeling and expressive of his emotions but still grounded. This is also a man who also sees women in a very different way than in ways many of us were brought up to do.

How much I need

A woman’s soul, felt

In my own knees,

Shoulders and hands.

I was born sad!

(from “Love Poem in Twos and Threes”)

Spending a few hours reading poems like this brings us into the presence of a man who can remain open-hearted and grounded while still remaining true to who he is as a masculine man.

Bly helped us see the world through poetry. Robert Bly was one of the first to introduce American readers to certain poets writing in other languages whose work was mostly unknown outside the cultural traditions from which they came. Through his literary journal The Fifties Press (its name changed with the passing decades), he provided original translations into English of many poets whose names are now familiar to many of us, and whose work is now taught at many high schools and colleges around the country:  Rainer Maria Rilke, Pablo Neruda, Antonio Machado, Rumi, Kabir, and Mira Bai – to name just a few. Other writers and poets continue to produce translations of these and other authors from many languages.

Bly was a keen observer of societal shifts. Bly became increasingly disturbed by the ascendancy of youth-centric culture and the social and economic forces that encourage everyone to think of each other as sibling rivals. A world without mentors or people to look up to is a world where people begin the path to adulthood too soon, — but emotional growth stops at adolescence. Previous generations were marked by compromise and sacrifice; people only got about half of what they wanted, but they grew up all the way. In the sibling society, people feel entitled to everything they want, but grow up only halfway.

Since “The Sibling Society” was written the problem’s only gotten worse. Social media is a place where experts’ and dabblers’ opinions both carry equal weight, and where people post news and photos of their achievements online, to the envy of others. Where is the role of mentors and teachers in a world where everyone has equal access to the public’s attention, and where everyone feels entitled to be rich, famous, and successful? Where are the pictures of people’s failures and getting up again, or of making personal sacrifices?

Bly started the Great Mother Conference. Before Robert Bly wrote “Iron John”, and long before he started his men’s workshops, one of his main interests was in the divine feminine. The Conference on the Great Mother was a gathering he started in 1975, inspired by the work of psychologists Carl Jung and Erich Neumann, with the purpose of reclaiming aspects of the divine feminine by seeking evidence of her in other cultures around the world, through what became known as the “mythopoetic imagination” – a revisioning of modern cultural narrative through story and song. This conference still takes place every year near Portland, Maine, and has been renamed “The Great Mother and New Father Conference”. It’s hosted teachers like psychologists Joseph Campbell and James Hillman, as well as Rumi translator Coleman Barks and others.

In addition to these direct influences, Robert Bly’s work has influenced the work of many people in the helping professions – most notably psychotherapists Robert Moore, Douglas Gillette, and John Herald Lee. All publicly acknowledge and give credit to Bly for his inspiration to work with men. His collaboration with Jungian analyst Marion Woodman (“The Ravaged Bridegroom”) has helped thousands of women also, and helped to popularize the writings of Clarissa Pinkola Estes (“Women Who Run With the Wolves”) and others who gave a voice for women’s stories and healing.

Although he never has, and probably never will (because of his politics), serve as our poet laureate, Americans owe a great debt to the life and work of Robert Bly. He introduced us to new ways of being male; he gifted us with translations of poets from other cultures; and his cultural criticisms are every bit as true today as when they were written. We wish him the best on his 90^th birthday.

##

Five Books That Shaped Me in 2016

It’s been a year of bizarre, unexpected surprises, both personally and politically. I spent a lot of time alone, reconnecting with my passions, reaquainting myself with old literary loves, and generally taking care of myself. Here are just a few books that helped me on my journey. All of them are masterpieces that yield new insights with repeated readings. Only one was published in 2016, but all of them are still in print and made me stronger as a person and as a man. They’ll do the same for you.

Just Kids by Patti Smith. The punk rock scene of which Patti Smith was a part didn’t really hit the Long Island suburbs where I grew up until the late 1970s, and by then it was over. I read her memoir last year partly to get caught up on what I missed, as well as to get a sense of Patti herself and the person she’s become since her days with Robert Mapplethorpe. Her descriptions of their life in the East Village are touching and bring to mind images of a New York that has utterly disappeared, as completely as the New York of earlier eras. The people she worked with, the lives she touched, and her journey from an aspiring, poor bohemian to successful performance artist and musician is inspiring. Her account of her lifelong friendship with Mapplethorpe calls to mind how precious — and rare — a true and lasting friendship can be. Smith was in the limelight again this year for her appearance and performance at the 2016 Nobel Prize ceremony for Bob Dylan, at which he failed to appear (viewable here). It’s a beautiful tribute to an American icon.

The Suble Art of Not Giving a F*k, by Mark Manson. Pickup-artist-turned-blogger Mark Manson has taken some of his best-loved ideas and turned them into a book. For a man under 40, he’s incredibly wise and unpretentious. His ideas, though often counterintuitive, make a lot of sense. They’re down to earth and are a good antidote for the pie-in-the-sky school of creative visualization and positive affirmation championed by many New Age personal development authors and the self-esteem movement. For people of my generation, it’s my parents’ advice revisioned and re-articulated, minus the judgments. His key point, which informs the whole book, is about values. Clarifying our values with a fine-toothed comb will help us choose more wisely the things that we care about. And doing that will give us better problems, which in turn give us a better life.

How to Break Your Addiction to a Person by Howard M. Halpern. If you need to break an unhealthy romantic attachment — as I did earlier last year — this book is for you. Addiction to alcohol or drugs is well-known, and the remedies are relatively straightforward, though not easy. Addiction to a person is a little harder to define, and the cure is not so simple, but with time, effort, and support, it is possible. The book looks at the phenomenon of “attachment hunger” and all the ways it can interfere with living our best life. It’s a brilliant mix of self-help advice and an explanation, in layperson’s terms, of object relations theory, which is how mental health clinicians explain the ways in which our experiences of other people are formed from an early age. If there are problems getting our attachment needs met during early childhood, it can lead to problems forming healthy relationships later. Parts one and two address the workings of an addiction to a person. You may recognize a lot of your own and others’ toxic behaviors here, but what’s really helpful is the last part, which offers techniques and exercises to break free. These include writing, building a supportive network, and self-talk that promotes self-esteem. There is also a chapter on how to make the best use of psychotherapy, for those who wish to seek professional help in this situation.

Reading the Manson book before reading this book will help you make better use of the exercises here. Remember that affirmations that build self-esteem are only useful if you can find things in your life to feel good about. But as you spend more time alone, become reacquainted with yourself, and take concrete actions that move your life forward, finding things to feel good about gets easier.

Eating the Honey of Words by Robert Bly. I heard Robert Bly read while he was on the Ohio Poetry Circuit in 1978 or 1979, and I’ve been addicted to his work ever since. This book is a selection of poems from his books spanning almost fifty years, and contains work that had not previously been included in any collection. (Bly turned 90 last year; my tribute to his life and work can be found here.) The book is divided into sections that begin with the earliest books and end with the latest, but the divisions overlap and and are not strictly chronological. Still it’s easy to see, in this book, all the ways in which his work has evolved. The poems often contain one or two details from nature that suddenly come in with a revelation about his, or our, inner lives that had previously been unnoticed. But the biggest gift his writing gives to me is he way the shares his experience of the feminine — both the real women in his life, and with his own feminine side. The way he gets in touch with aspects of himself that many men never notice over their whole lives can be an inspiration to the rest of us. A good way to experience “Loving a Woman in Two Worlds” or “Morning Poems” is to read them once, read Iron John or A Little Book on the Human Shadow, and then read the poems again. It’s not for the faint of heart. You might find, for instance, as Bly does in “A Man Writes to a Part of Himself”, that your feminine side has regressed through neglect, and is living in primitive, hostile conditions. Or you might see hints of Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction, in his seminal protest poem against the Vietnam war, “The Teeth Mother Naked at Last” — though she’s never mentioned by name.

The Way of the Superior Man, by David Deida. First published in 1997, and now in its 23rd printing, this book is a beautiful guide, for men or masculine-identified people, for dealing with women or female-identified people. I’ve read it about once a year since 2008, and it yields new treasures every time. Its generalizations may enrage or offend you, but if men read it, take long breaks to breathe fully during those difficult passages, and then go back to it, they will find, after doing this over several years, that the places in the book they find hardest to accept are those that point to their biggest potential for growth. Women can read the book too, as a guide to understand what the men in their lives are all about. The book is a few years old by now, and some of its more important points can be easily challenged. For example, Deida says that men are happiest while filling their life-purpose, whereas women are happiest while in relationship. The data from the Harvard Study are now in and suggest, pretty convincingly, that close relationships are the key to happiness, not just for women, but for everyone. But it is true, over the short term, that men tend to find fulfilment in their achievements. It’s a wise man that honors that impulse in himself, while keeping family and close friendships — the things that matter most over the long term — in sight.

Lessons of Severe Weather

On the East Coast, a blizzard this weekend caused record levels of snow and shut down all transportation. It’s provided a good opportunity to reflect—to avoid the temptation to distract ourselves with radio or television – and simply relax, enjoy the silence and stillness, and simply do nothing. We cannot choose either the effects or the timing of severe weather, and so a snowstorm gives us a chance to clear away distractions from our lives and to help us focus on what’s important. Harsh weather often has important lessons to teach us, if we’re willing to listen. As long as we don’t need to be anywhere, we can forego shoveling snow and scraping off the windshield and instead turn within, cultivating a practice of stillness and quiet reflection.

What insights can come to us when harsh weather has sealed the exits, reduced available distractions, and encouraged us to go deep? The first and most obvious is a reminder of our vulnerability. In a time when lights are always on, food is readily available, and travel is so easy, it helps to remember and be grateful for that complex web of infrastructure on which our lives in the 21st century depend. A mere 20″ of snow can shut down a major metropolitan area for 24 hours. What other conditions beyond our control have such a dramatic effect on our lives?

During a power failure, when we no longer have access to such an easy, plentiful supply of light, we need to sit in darkness, or else use candles or other alternative sources of electricity. What thoughts and feelings occur to us while sitting in darkness? What stories do we tell ourselves and each other, what music gives us comfort or ignites our imaginations? The incandescent lightbulb as we know it has only existed for 130 years or so. Before that, for many thousands of years, the pace of life naturally slowed after dark; human beings relied less on their eyes and more on their other senses. This was traditionally a time of music, of storytelling, and sometimes dance. Reading and other activities involving intense use of the eyes was no longer possible except at great expense. The intuition was engaged much more actively. The rhythm of the seasons was much more closely felt as well; the shortening of the day, culminating in the Winter Solstice, meant that an even greater reliance on listening and intuition were required. In contrast to the Holidays as we experience them today, the holiday season was a time of solemnity and silence – for serious reflection, assessment of the old year, and plans for the New Year.

The slowdowns in transportation, whether through an automobile or public transit, are an invitation to stay close to home and become re-acquainted with our personal living space, our neighborhood, or our neighbors. During severe weather, people rely on each other in ways that they usually don’t. The closure of roads and bridges creates an opportunity to develop a sense of place, which everyone had in the days before rapid transit; however, it’s usually not evident except in a few places in the U.S., or else in times of harsh weather.  Who are your neighbors, the people you would need to rely on in an emergency? What wildlife lives near you? Even the most densely-populated urban areas have wild creatures who adjust their behavior to the onset of harsh weather. In many cases, these creatures were aware of the coming storm much sooner than human beings. What are their survival strategies? How do they live? Get curious.

If you’re snowed in, there’s still a lot to do. The best ideas come only after quiet contemplation and reflection; however, here are some suggestions:

1. Sleep late. If you don’t need to be anywhere or do anything, there’s no reason not to break with your regular routine. It’s OK to sleep in if the weather has made you unable to fulfill responsibilities. Sooner or later, if you spend time in bed with no electronics or other distractions, your body will want to move. Get out of bed only when your body demands it.
2. Try some yoga poses at home. Not everyone can do this – you need enough space for it, and family who will cooperate in not disturbing you. But most people who would like to exercise at home can do so, and with a relatively small amount of space and equipment. Even people who say they don’t have time to exercise suddenly have time for it once they’re unable to get to work or school. Start small—fifteen minutes is plenty to start. You can find yoga routines on YouTube or other places on the Internet.
3. Meditate. One of the aftereffects of a storm – particularly a snowstorm – is a comforting silence. Few automobiles are on the road, and even birds are quiet. The silence can provide a delicious freedom from distraction and make it a perfect time to begin a meditation or sitting practice.
4. Read. Those books on your shelf that you’ve been meaning to read are still there, and quiet time is the perfect time. In keeping with the season’s traditional focus on the imagination, I personally prefer material that tells a story; that contains a strong narrative voice; that speaks to a sense of place; or that uses metaphor or puts another’s personal experience into sharp focus. Some of my favorite winter reading includes:

Robert Bly: The Light Around the Body. Bly was a poet long before he was a teacher and facilitator. This book of poems, one of his earlier ones, won the 1967 National Book Award.

Henry Beston: The Outermost House. Published in 1928, it chronicles the author’s year spent living close to the elements in a house on Cape Cod.

James Ogilvy:  Living Without a Goal. Reflections on purpose and passion.

Saul Bellow: The Adventures of Augie March. A beautiful coming-of-age story published in 1953.

David Deida: Blue Truth. A series of brief, intense reflections on life, sex, and death.

Natalie Goldberg:  Writing Down the Bones. A book that compares writing with spiritual practice. A must for anyone interested in learning how to write on a regular basis.

Ram Dass: How Can I Help? A beautiful collection of stories and meditations about people who have helped others.