Five Days Until Midwest Men’s Festival

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Yesterday was pretty darned good! Except for the end when the Evil Team Leader tried to ruin it for me and then I saw butterflies thick in the air, sunflowers reaching for the sky. Tasted black berries picked by me and my Faerie brothers. I thought of lying on a raft on the lake with the sun kissing my skin and browning me up.

I thought of love.

I tried to describe what cannot be described to a lovely lady I work with.

She was happy for me.

This is the thirty-fifth MMF. This will be something like my fifteenth. Nothing has stopped me from going Fate willing, it will be something I go to when I am old and gray. Of course I am going gray already but I hope it is sexy. Notice how sexy it can be?

It’s a stage of my life. Some traditions count it as the youth, the warrior, and the wise man.

I am not young anymore, but I am certainly young at heart.

I am tired of being a warrior. Fighting against cruelty and injustice and gay rights and the freedom to marry and more. Now I just want to embrace…

…what is so good about being over fifty. Knowledge. Experience. Wisdom.

That comes from growing older and surviving.

The wise man.

Three or four more days of work. Then I am free to live two weeks of freedom.

And know…KNOW…that this will be the LAST Men’s Festival where I have to go back to that place where I work.

I claim this.

I know this.

I see it.

Ask. Believe. Receive.

Today will be a good day.

Peace and Love,
Gentle Ben

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