THE MANCAVE

Growing up as a firstborn meant I had many responsibilities bestowed upon me even as a child. Often the rest of the family members would travel and leave me home alone. Someone had to take care of the home or business and I happened to be the de facto caretaker. This meant I spent substantial amounts of time alone. With time I got to enjoy being by myself. Peace and silence are addictive.

As I grew up, life became crowded. Most of my work roles have been customer-facing, this meant I spent my weekdays meeting with potential clients, chasing down leads, solving problems, or organizing parties aka being the life of the party. Leading a life filled with people and chaos left me exhausted. Mental exhaustion. The kind that leaves you completely drained with a head so heavy, you can’t get out of bed.

To stay afloat, I set up my stillness day. Every Sunday, I would wake up early, and sit at my desk with nothing but boxers on to read or write. During these moments, I would do introspection on my life, take stock of my life goals, realign priorities, dream, and learn, other times just sit and wallow in self-pity over challenges on my path. It was the only time I could be vulnerable. Pull down all the masks and be blatantly honest with me. Typically, this went on until 4pm, when I would step out to grab my first meal for the day. Any time, I couldn’t have this sacred session, I would be cranky and less productive the following week.

When I finally walked down the aisle and went home with my new bride, life changed drastically. Covid pandemic times meant spending pretty much all wake hours together. The missus is a sport thus I enjoyed every minute. However, as weeks went by, working at home together, shopping, traveling, jogging, dining and even hanging out with the friends together began taking a toll on me. I became easily irritable, finding fault in everything she did.

One evening I hit my wit's end. She had never ending tales that required active participation. Nodding my head and throwing an occasional really or mmh wouldn’t cut it. I tried to keep up but my oral muscles were sore. I snapped.

“Would you please shut up!” I barked.

I could see the horror in her eyes. She was shocked. Terribly hurt. Confused at why I was being mean to her. She was doing her best to be a great wife only to be met with resentment. She cried herself to sleep that night.

With guilt eating me up, I decided to go seek advice from my old man. When I asked for tips on how a man can get their significant other to speak less, he almost fell down his seat laughing.

“Son, nobody escapes that, you simply learn to live with your woman. Your mother is equally talkative and I let her be since sharing keeps her happy. It is probably wired into their DNA. You can’t openly tell your woman to shut up, it will only lead to unnecessary fights. Understand that’s their nature and learn to listen as it never changes even as they grow old.”

He went on to tell me of this time he came home at 10pm and found my mother all sullen. She was responding to him in monosyllables. He warmed dinner and ate in silence, cogitating over what he might have done or failed to do during the day to upset her but couldn’t think of anything. He went to bed only to be woken up at 1am with mum pouring her heart out. Tired and sleepy yet he had no choice but to sit up and listen. Turns out, when I casually told my mother that I wasn’t planning on having kids, she didn’t take it lightly. She was asking my old man whether it was something they did wrong to me as a kid that lead me to choose to cut off their lineage.

“The secret to staying grounded is to have multiple homes where you can retreat and spend quality time alone before coming back to your family.”

It then occurred to me that not once have I ever heard my old man shout at my mother, sons, or anyone for that matter. He is always composed, soft-spoken and courteous even when angry. Most times he is joyful and positive about life. Apparently, the secret source of his jovial nature is the time he spends alone in the other pads reading newspapers, tending to trees and flowers while listening to rhumba before coming back to the main house.

When I went back to my place, I apologized to the missus. I explained to her how I often get tired of talking and listening and thus needed time to be alone in silence to recharge my mental batteries. She was surprisingly understanding. I suggested renting a studio apartment in the neighborhood where I could go spend time alone, however, she recommended converting one of the spare bedrooms into a mancave.

Basically, it’s like a private island with a desk, a couch, and a bed. The wardrobes are filled with car spare parts, documents, dismantled electronics, books, tools, etc. Main house rules do not apply here.

Since tidiness isn’t always on my mind, I often leave my socks pretty much anywhere in the house, constantly misplace keys & wallet and most times leave dirty clothes on the floor. I observed that whenever I got into the house missus would silently follow me, picking up every item I dropped and placed it in its rightful spot. My mancave is where she lets me strewn things wherever I like.

By having a mancave that I can retreat to I have become a relatively happier and sober man. I move into my safe space whenever I feel overwhelmed with the world out there, spend hours in solitude, and come out energized. This calmness has spread to other spheres of my life. It has made me a courteous driver, I act like the bigger man in most day-to-day conflicts, ignore aggressors who are not worth bursting a vein, and am generally slow to anger.

See, women and kids are loved and accepted for who they are. Men on the other hand have to prove themselves worthy of any title. This evolves into a constant battle, trying to carve a niche in a cut-throat world. What makes this journey even more complicated are the expectations bestowed upon your shoulders and the multiple roles you are required to play in tandem. A father, husband, brother, friend, business partner, employee, community leader, provider, protector, mentor…the list is endless. In essence, a man, is a juggler walking on a tight rope, continually juggling all his roles while still trying to stay sane.

The pressure to succeed in these multiple roles weighs down on the soul, which is why you often crave solitude. A moment to step out of this noisy world, retreat into a citadel where you can stay in silence with your thoughts. Sit with your legs up and stare into nothingness. Sometimes, do nothing. Most men can’t get this in their homes which is why they spend the weekends at the garage, car wash, or at the bar just to have some time alone.

It’s an inescapable fact, that a man is a lonely creature. Therefore, create this safe space in your home. If you can afford to put up a garage or an extension in your compound even better. If that’s not feasible then create a tiny corner in your house where your partner and kids understand and respect it as your sanctuary. A place you can retreat when you are down in the pits. It will go a long way in keeping you grounded because a man without a fortress is a ticking bomb.

By Mark Maish #TheUltimateGentleman #mancave