 As you can see in this picture I always wanted to be the knight in shining armor. Or the sheriff, Han Solo or any other dashing hero. I protected people for as long as I could remember. At a young age I was opening doors for women, holding my mom when she cried late at night, sticking up for people at school and so forth and so on. I took this into my adult years and though I didn’t always feel like I lived up to it perpetually attempted to be the “white knight.”
We often talk about the “Divine Masculine” being that man that steps up to protect women, to be kind and loving and never let them hurt or be hurt. It’s the same concept as the “Knight in shining armor” or “the white knight” concept and the two seem to have become interwoven as we open up to the idea of different energies within us all. I lived up those concepts in many of my relationships and when I didn’t I chastised myself for it. Many a picture circulates on Facebook these days with men with long hair and good builds being dubbed as “The Divine Masculine” for all others to model. I wanted to be that, be that type of man until one day I figured out that the type of man that is… is not doing women or anyone else a favor.
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 Has anyone out there ever realized that when we say “let me help you with that,” we take “that” away from them. We actually take the experience of “that” away from someone else. We no longer allow them their own journey. We think this helps them and yet it really just means they will have to do “that” at another time to learn it on their own.
 I know many might rage against this but the most beautiful thing my mother ever gave me was the gift of her death. When you strip away the lies, the fears, the logic and all else that we let blind us. When we lift the veils and begin to remember our true selves, our true existence, the reasons we came here, the experiences we wanted, the depths of the human experience we wanted to explore we realize what all of this is about.  Yep, so I’m a big ole gamer. I started off with my mom buying one of the first Mac’s on the market and played goofy little games on it. Well really, there was Atari first and then Zork and maybe a few others I don’t remember. Eventually I got into MUD’s which are text based games on the web where a bunch of people join in the game. Everyone has their own character; we pick races, professions, magic or non, weapons, skills and so forth. Most of the first ones were based off of D&D which in turn was based off of the Hobbit/Lord of the Rings and other books in the genre. One of the biggest things in these games is to not be OOC, or Out Of Character. In other words if I’m playing I don’t suddenly say “OMG did you see last night’s SNL skit?” or something to that affect. Nope in these games we want to RP or Role-play our characters to fit what others see of them on screen so that they match up to the ideal troll, ogre, elf, magician, thief, warrior, etc.
 I found myself sitting in the bath tub with the shower pouring over me as I cried. I had just ended an 8 year relationship with a beautiful, loving and talented woman and was mourning it. My heart was wide open and I cried and cried, some quiet tears, others heart wrenching. The thing that struck me the most was that there were no words in my head. No stories of my unworthiness, my undesirability, the fact that she, like so many others, would be better without me. Nothing, none of those stories played, no sound other than the tears I cried.
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