The real man stood up after raising his hand, a response to a question from the platform.
A question of differences, to understand what someone is.. Beyond a unique individual
His response was succinct, drawing on a life of experiences,
happiness, love, loss and pain. His emotional spectrum was vast.
Yet his accomplishments were relatively minor,
when the speaker pushed him with a few more questions of reasons and reaction.
So he sat down and thought, mind folding inward, listening to an inner voice.
For how long? He did not know, time was a meaningless constant in his life.
Words formed, ideas created, hypotheses challenged, memories recounted.
All seemingly swirling in the cauldron which was fuelled by a lack of true understanding,
an appreciation though of his flaws, the cracks in the facade, but he knew he was a real man.
It dawned upon him, abruptly, that perhaps the answers weren’t within,
that all he was doing was hiding behind fears of inadequacy, a fear of the truth.
His own self didn’t need to understand, just to accept, to simply be happy with what he did know.
Perhaps it was too simple, but it made sense.
He switched off his inner voice, and tuned back in to the speaker on the stage.
Not sure of what he’d missed while his ponderings had gone on.
He made sure he never lost anymore of their words.
Steve B 05/08