Meditating on the Future of New Mexico Men’s Wellness


Recently I spent an afternoon with three of my closest NMMW buddies. Near the end of our time together I led a 20 minute meditation. The instructions were like this: Imagine a 27 year-old man is seeking your advice. He has energy and passion and plenty of options, and lots of uncertainty about where he should go next in his life’s journey. His name is Nathan Manuel Mystery Wanderlust–he goes by Nate. He trusts in the wisdom that you, a ruggedly handsome grey beard, have acquired–during the span of his  quarter century on the planet–and a few decades before he arrived.  He eagerly awaits your guidance.

As you delve downward– into the cornucopia of meditation time/space, keep your eyes open for an image, a single word or a brief phrase–a simple gift that would assist Nate in his quest for direction and hope. When you open your eyes at the end of this guided meditation, please share your gift with Nate–and with the others within this circle.

20 minutes late we concluded our group meditation–four men sitting in a circle on wooden chairs within my cozy bedroom–filtered sunlight streaming though the window–the pervasive quiet interrupted gently by the sounds of a mildly distressed infant in the adjoining apartment Three Oooohhhmmms later–we gradually opened our eyes and surveyed the room and then each other.

So you may be curious about Christopher‘s message for Nate? So my fine young man, consider the Yellow Submarine–that’s right–the curious image from the 60’s era Beatles song–the  underwater craft that has all of your friends on board–and many more floating just outside the window. This chipper vessel travels freely through an abundant green sea–an ocean teeming with life–embraced from above by a dome of clear blue sky.Like its cousin, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the Yellow Submarine has capacities for metamorphosis and transformation. Late for work? Well just push a button and she becomes an aircraft that rises above the pollution-rife snarl of rush hour traffic–and whisks you away–on a graceful beeline for your destination. Got the desire to explore outer or inner space? With a few crisp orders to your maties, and the clanging of a couple of warning bells, and you are well on your way.

The melody from the Yellow Submarine is an old British drinking song–recycled by that spirited and talented unruly haired foursome. Now Picture a group of men, young and old, sitting around a wooden table–in a pub with a glowing fire emanating from a stone hearth–a buxom waitress listens attentively, and prepares to fill their pitcher yet again– as the sound of these well worn, hearty and slightly tipsy voices fills the Pub–and filters out the windows to the neighboring cottages and over the neighboring fields.

Go West Young Men, and do consider a career in Plastics, and, finally, always remember the Yellow Submarine.

So there you have it. Are you curious about the messages from my three fellow meditators.  They may, or may not, divulge their answers in due course. Stay tuned.

With a smile,

May 1, 2011

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