The paradox of a man’s desire

Most men I reckon can’t bear the thought of being perfectly honest with themselves – that may account for why they need to constantly manufacture lies to fashion their version of reality concerning strong women – on one hand man says, I want a strong, intelligent and independent woman who will always inspire me to greater heights…who will push me to places where angels fear to tread – who can stick by me through thick and thin, and be my rock.

Yet in the same breathe they deny womanhood by never once asking themselves – how does woman become strong?

There are certain realities in this world that every sensible man would do well to acquaint himself with – for starters a strong woman doesn’t come around. That’s to say left to vagaries of chance and probability most women can never be truly strong.

A man. A wise one at least needs to know that a truly strong, independent woman does not walk through the world with her heart wide open like City Hall interchange. She has to be like a fortress – not just any fortress, but one with razor sharp barbs, piranhas in the moat and perhaps a couple of man eating dogs to guard the domain of her heart….otherwise how could she possibly understand the art of war that is the skeleton key that opens the door to inner strength. She has to be like ninja skeptical, suspicious and always interrogating and above all on alert….otherwise how can she possibly learn the weirding ways that makes her strong. She even has to be a bit jaded, a little cynical, and a little skeptical because those are the scars of having once fought battles to win….and again if she never once struggled against those odds how could she possibly have gained access to the black arts of power that gives one strength.

She is also going to be the sort that will never let her heart rule her mind either – the sort that may even doubt and question your best intentions because it is only thru the rigor of the discipline of constant vigilance and relying on her gut instincts that will allow to thrive under conditions that would break most women in half….again, if she did never once set foot in no man’s land and walks the length of self doubt to reach the other side with relief….how could she possibly be strong?

Above all a strong woman is not so different from a strong man – she has a past. Her fill of regrets along with darkened corridors that she much prefers to forget and perhaps a secret cigar box that she hides from the world in some corner of her complicated mind only to opens from time to time to wonder – what if?….Maybe….perhaps. Yes a strong woman has her demons and scars as well.

The greatest wisdom that a man can ever say if he ever has the privilege to stand before a strong woman is never I love you…that is like trite rerun of a Korean serial…it’s meaningless.

It is to simply express with your utter silence and respect…I understand. I understand completely because I too have walked the same lonely road.

Do only this and this alone and the key will turn and the door to the strong woman’s heart will open.

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‘Know how things come about. You must eradicate the word ‘nice’ from your vocabulary. Burn it. Put it in a beaker of acid. Watch it disintegrate into nothingness….as nice is simply code for you don’t understand a thing for what it or how it came about. Next time when you’re at your desk look at the grains of the wood. Really look at it. Feel the texture of the surface, let your fingers count the rings of time. You will find most of the time, it’s fake…a facsimile. That’s all it is, nothing more and that’s how it really is with most people.

The never seem inclined to go beyond the surface – they’re content to run with appearances and what they think or even believe to be true.

But occasionally. Not very often. One does come across real wood. The sort that tells stories if you know how to read the language of trees – when the rings are close, they speak of lean years. When they’re speckled and stripe it says she was once struck by lightning and after great strife – she managed to survive….it’s a story of how things come about and it’s the same with people.

They don’t just walk over the knoll and appear from nowhere. Everyone has a story. A history. Maybe it’s a good one. Maybe it’s one that’s best forgotten and never mentioned, but nonetheless it’s a story that all adds up to the person before you.

This is what it means to understand things for what they are…this is what it really means to develop depth and nuance of character, it is never about possessing. Rather it is simply appreciating the beauty of how a strong woman came into being.