The cutting Animus

It always boils down to love or power – it’s always one or the other. The masculine way is to count, measure, judge, and compare. This is the abstraction of power. It’s always about length, it’s always a number. It’s always about who’s better. There’s always a winner. There’s always a loser. This is the dark side of the masculine, whether within or without.

When this is applied to love, it’s a disaster; you end up with the Trump-like measuring love. “You’re too skinny. You’re not skinny enough. Your butts too small. Your butts too big. Your boobs are too saggy. Your skin is too dark. You’re just not good enough.” Whether it’s said by the man within or the one without, it destroys love.

The masculine that’s trapped in power can never find real love, only the caricature of love. It never fills you up, but only creates an empty bottomless hole that eats and eats and eats up the world, devours the world. It’s Fenris, the rage filled monster wolf who eats the whole world. When the masculine is trapped in this, he’s possessed by the Wolf. The negative masculine is The Destroyer of Worlds.

Love doesn’t count, it doesn’t measure, it doesn’t judge, and it doesn’t compare. Love connects, heart to heart and soul to soul. It can’t compare because it sees your utter uniqueness. It doesn’t measure because it sees your absolute worth. Love loves you, flaws and all. Love loves your flaws; your flaws make you you. Love is a garden, a paradise. The masculine can only love when it hurts him to judge. Love can only be when power is forsaken, overwhelmed by love. Love is a gift; you can open yourself up to it, create a comfortable home for it, invite it in. Like a bird it may come and grace your heart with its beauty.

The challenge of the masculine is to learn how to love; to truly love is the man’s bridge to God/dess.