Men's Sweat Your Prayers

by Art Busse

I got to the old church an hour or more before the sweat was to start and helped Rupert, Peter, and Tim set up. It was a glorious winter morning, clear and bright, and Point Richmond had never looked more endearing nor enduring. A picturesque little back water proletarian enclave with a fresh school of yuppies washed up on its streets. The Church was small as churches go, a chapel really, but a Julia Morgan chapel – and it showed. The floor had just been refinished and we moved all the pews off to the side and set up the music station at the altar.

I was emotionally exhausted and hung over from the activities of the few days prior, and gladly manned the door, missing the first 20 minutes or so of the dancing. Roughly 30 guys showed up for it, mostly guys in their 40’s and 50’s. When I joined them on the dance floor, it didn't look good. Just a bunch of guys standing around trying to make themselves move to the music but without a good reason why they should. Sex, the great motivator, was not in the room, and that formidable collection of glutes, quads and pelvic girdles seemed a bit dispirited because of it. It was a little weird and I couldn't find my stroke.

Ah, but then came that hard driving heavy metal song they played over the credits of the first Matrix movie, and it made me crazy. I threw myself at Storm King (John Fraine) and he immediately returned the favor which started a sprawling brawl that drew in others and ended with six guys restraining me by my arms and legs while I writhed my torso toward the ceiling to the music reaching heights well above their heads. After that things were different and guys all around the room started playing with shoulder butting each other and spinning away into the next guy. It got pretty raucous and was a full on blast.

Then out of the abandon and freedom came the urge to merge. Guys spontaneously formed up into groups of various sizes and did things together then disbanded and formed up again with others to do different things. No leaders, no plans, but unified action. Things like pressing together then pushing someone up on top of the group and moving around the room with them, or marching percussion rhythm sections, or forming a circle and taking turns one guy in the middle doing some personal signature movement while getting cheered on from the perimeter.

Then as the music subsided into stillness, the activity quieted down too. When the music got slow and sad I started thinking about how I had broken my former wife’s heart by leaving her and wanted to make a confession to the group. I kept it to myself but wound up on my knees crying. That brought one or two guys to my side to comfort me. A few more came and lifted me to my feet and then pulled in tight around me with our arms all around each other. That drew in others and soon all 30 of us were pressed together hugging each other while moving backwards in unison in a slow motion spiral. It went on for three songs and by the last song there were a half dozen of us weeping. And, in a way, it was all no big deal. The DJ finally forced us apart into a hand holding bigger circle and we began talking to each other one at a time about what it had been like. Again spontaneous, fearless, beautiful.

What impressed me even more, though, were the feelings of peace and joy and belonging that welled up in me after we warmed to our dance together. The shoulder-bouncing was followed by huge smiles everywhere. People were picked up, held aloft by groups, spun around, jostled, engaged in mock combat.

How much we are born to and have so little opportunity to express! How much of what we think of as violent is simply the need to play--rough and gentle ('mindful' as someone so well put it) at the same time. All this without words...

The closing circle was lovely and could have gone on even longer with discoveries, observations, feelings. Our competitive guard was down. We experienced the campfire comfort of tribesmen. I loved that. The conversation was open, easy, honest and compassionate--and everyone spoke up, without needing a facilitator to make sure that happened.

It was an amazing night that created a strong and welcomed bond of brotherhood between us that extended outward to all men. We’d been waiting a long time for what showed up around that fire.