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The Wild Man lives in every man. He is beautiful and divine. He has enormous fundamental energy and a great love for the world. He is just as much a nurturer and protector and creator as any female figure, but he will do that nurturing and protecting in his own masculine way. It is time for the Wild Man in us to be celebrated without shame.

Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha were well at ease with the Wild Man, spending time in the wilderness, using nature as there place of prayer and reflection. All bore his hallmarks – being unpredictable and non-conformist with the established order of their times, yet at the same time disciplined and true to their inner voices.

Biddulph’s treatment of the males inner ‘wild man’ is, well, a bit strange. At first reading it sounds like a call to return to the hippy days of the 60’s. On second reading it sounds like we should all strip off and go and live in the bush. On third reading (after putting my clothes back on because there were too many prickles) it seems to be an attempt to describe and define the difficult concept of connecting with what drives a man in the inner most being. That part of males that is creative and energetic and loving and strong. Biddulph obviously has difficulty describing it, and I’m having trouble summarizing it. But perhaps a glimpse at the life of one of my little men might help shed some light on what the Wild Man is.

Biddulph says that the Amazon tribes were horrified at how white man’s civilization sucked the soul out of a man. It caged him in walls of concrete and allowed no room to explore and discover – no room to be the free, roaming Wild Man. My nearly-three-year-old Thomas is the same. Keep him inside for too long and he starts to climb the walls. He loves to play trains. He loves to read books. He loves to watch a bit of TV. But all he really wants to do each day is go outside to play.

Once outside, he’ll paint with water. He’ll run around on the grass. He’ll pull down his pants so he can do a ‘stand-up wee’ and then take his pants off entirely so he can run around with out them. He’ll build things in the sand. He’ll collect leaves and bark. He’ll chase butterflies, stomp on snails, laugh at he birds, throw the ball and draw with chalk on the ground.

Quite simply, he loves being outside. And watching him enjoying life so much is a beautiful thing. There is not a care in the world and the tears only come when it’s time to go back inside.

Biddulph says that this is an expression of the Wild Man. After all, why do so many men like to fish or go hiking or rafting and the like? They all connect with the wild parts of nature and bring the Wild Man in us alive. I found it interesting that Biddulph refers to Jesus as one who connected with the Wild Man and wonder if this is a lost part of ministry to men that we need to rediscover – the maleness of Jesus.

In any case, I still feel I only have a fuzzy grasp of what Biddulph is saying in this part of chapter 10, but at the same time feel like I know exactly what he is saying. The buzz of riding my bike down a hill, the peace of being totally lost in the bush, the challenge of training a wild bird to eat seed out of my hand, wrestling with my boys in the grass and the warmth of holding my wife close, all seem to me to be the stuff that I am made for.

Is this the Wild Matt? I don’t know. But it’s certainly the one that’s most alive…