Men's Healing Network Podcast

Episode 3: The Courage to Feel

Men's Healing Network Season 1 Episode 3

Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.

0:00 | 54:02

Send us Fan Mail

In a culture that teaches men to push through pain, what happens when they choose instead to slow down and feel?

In this deeply moving conversation, Vincent Perez sits down with grief tenders and ritualists Jordan Lyon and Brian "Yam" Dwyer, co-creators of Grieving Man, to explore the transformative power of grief, community, music, and ritual.

Together, they challenge the myth that healing is a solitary pursuit, revealing how grief can become a pathway back to belonging, connection, and love. Jordan reflects on caregiving, loss, accountability, and the importance of creating spaces where men can tell the truth about their lives. Brian shares the story of his son's childhood cancer diagnosis, the lessons fatherhood has taught him, and why music has become a bridge between sorrow and hope.

Along the way, the conversation explores:

  • Why grief is about far more than death
  • The difference between suppressing pain and transforming it
  • How ritual and community help us heal what we cannot heal alone
  • Fatherhood, friendship, and becoming the men we wish had guided us
  • The courage to ask for help—and the courage to receive it

Woven throughout the episode are Brian's original songs, offering moments of reflection and invitation that culminate in a moving reminder:

"Healing is happening."

Whether you're carrying the loss of a loved one, grieving a version of yourself, or simply longing for deeper connection, this conversation offers a powerful invitation: slow down, tell the truth, and remember that you do not have to walk this path alone.

The Men's Healing Network podcast is made possible in part through the generous support of Choice Regional Health Network, whose commitment to community well-being helps bring these conversations to life.

Hosted by: Vincent Perez
Produced by: Tom Keppeler
Marketing & Logistics: Dee Enriquez



Vincent Perez:

Welcome back to the Men's Healing Network podcast. My name is Vincent Perez. One of the things I've discovered through this podcast is that healing rarely begins with answers. More often, it begins with a conversation, a conversation around a fire, a conversation in a circle, a conversation with a friend who is willing to sit beside you in joy, uncertainty, grief, and love. Today's guests know a great deal about those kinds of conversations. Jordan Lyon is a grief tender, ritualist, and community builder whose work centers healing, transformation, and reconnection with the living world. Through ritual, relationship, and grief work, Jordan helps people navigate life cycles of loss, renewal, and belonging. He describes himself as a cultural doula, someone helping to birth new ways of being while honoring what must be released. Joining him is Brian "Yam" Dwyer, a community song leader, ritualist, father, and musician who understands music as a living bridge between people, ancestors, community, and the more-than-human world. For more than 30 years, Brian has explored rhythm, song, and improvisation as pathways to connection and healing. Together with their partner, Elias Zeras, who we will speak with in a future episode, Jordan and Brian are co-creators of Grieving Men. This is a growing movement that creates spaces where men can gather, tell the truth, and remember that they do not have to carry life's burdens alone. In this conversation, we explore grief, beauty, fatherhood, ritual, community, pain, music, and what becomes possible when men gather with the courage to feel. I invite you to slow down, take a breath, and join us Welcome to the Men's Healing Network podcast. I've been so excited for this conversation. Jordan, I met you, at your Grieving Man ritual. It is such an honor, to have you here It's a gift what you, what you offer. I've been to four of your rituals now. Your facilitation, is inspiring. I am most, in awe of how curious you are when you hold this container and you hold the men, in this space, and how much a tenderness you bring to the art of grieving. It's an honor to have you here. but my first question for you, I was invited to Grieving Men, and it was such a, such a gift. Why did you invite Brian? Can you tell us about that?

Jordan Lyon:

Well, thank you, Vincent. It's a gift to be here with you. And, um, it was a gift to have you in the first space where, where I felt you come in. I think it was beginning of this year, end of last year. I'm finding… I'll get to the question in a second, but, feeling your heart and strength and presence and care for the way you bring your truth and vulnerability to help men heal and come together is such a gift. And so even just receiving this invitation was, was very beautiful in itself, and so grateful to be invited onto this. Brian, Briam, iam, baby. I don't even know where to start. It, it's funny, just looking at you brings such a smile and warmth to me. I think about the first time we actually met was in a men's grief ritual. The first time we really dropped in, and we ended up being in a, in, a three-person group, and I ended up sharing things to him that I've never shared to another man before. That was the first time I talked about some of the wounds. I don't know if we'll touch on this theme, but it might come up today, but, the topic was around some of the ways I was, I was wounded and harmed in my journey of becoming true and in integrity in my sexuality, and ways that, that I was sharing with Brian of, moments that I was out of integrity and, caused some harm, as well as just in a deep hole of, shame and insecurity and loss, and it's been a, a deep journey of coming into erotic wholeness since. But that moment has always stayed with me. There was just a presence of, of love with this man, and I think now we most often refer to ourselves as anchor brothers. Like we hold each other in, like we are anchors for each other. And that means everything from helping us see each other's blind spots and being deeper in integrity and working with our shadows and how we're showing up out of alignment, as well as birthing beautiful work into the world. And we have such a complementary, set of skills, and he is such a gifted musician, ritualist. Again, this theme for all three of us, I think, in a way, presence with tenderness, especially with men. And there was no one else I thought of joining. Brian and I have been stewarding and, birthing Grieving Man now for, we're getting closer to two years since we originally went out to the, to the wild, the whole rainforest and first heard the call from the land of something that wanted to come through us, Grieving Man. Ever since then, we've just gotten to go deeper and deeper, and I love this one dearly. And his gifts and care and heart are so, yeah, like, like feelable. They're, they're, they're tasteable. I, uh, yeah, they're delicious. What else can I'll leave it at that. beyond grateful to be here with you both.

Vincent Perez:

Thank you so much. That term anchor brother. Wow. So rooted. Thank you. Brian, for you, I've gotten to experience some of your, gifts and offerings in terms of your musicality, In holding in the ritual, but I'm curious as we start out this conversation, what does men's healing mean to you?

Brian Dwyer:

Well, first of all, it's an honor to be here, Vincent and Jordan. Thanks for the invitation. That's such a big question, and honestly, if I, if I'm being in integrity, the term men's healing, I'm not sure what to do with that. But I can say for myself, there's something about being together in this way in sacred circle that allows a kind of honesty that I was never role modeled as a kid. I was never shown what I'm seeing as a… As a boy, I wasn't role modeled what I'm seeing. And it also-- It's like I'm not doing it alone, which I feel like I've been going at it alone for decades, and I, I kinda stumbled into this ass backwards with my drum, honestly. And I'm finding now-- I guess my answer would be a song probably, maybe. Like, what does men's healing mean to me? Hmm. Vincent, you may know this one, but it's a line from Kahlil Gibran, and it says, "Oh, oh, my brother, every problem that has troubled you has troubled me." And that's a paraphrase of something he said, but I think that that holds… It sounds like this. If you don't mind, could I, could I share a verse or two? You're welcome to, sing along or nod your head along if you want Oh, my brothers Every problem that has troubled you has troubled me Can you hear that okay? Yeah? Oh, my brothers Every problem that has troubled you has troubled me. Yeah. Oh, my brother. You can sing that along with me if you want, those listening out there. Oh, my brother Every problem that has troubled you,

Vincent Perez:

you,

Brian Dwyer:

has troubled me

Vincent Perez:

me

Brian Dwyer:

And it goes on and on and on. But, you know, like holding each other in our mess and stumbling in the dark trying to find out what it even means to be a man in 2026 AD. I don't even know what to do with that phrase, but I'm learning collectively with fellow men who are opening the aperture of their heart up enough to like practice belonging together, practice getting more free together, practice like getting softer and stronger, and all these-- this aliveness that's coming through these men that I'm seeing in circle. it's one of the juiciest things I know right now. So as a man, an artist, and a really glad dad of a 12-year-old boy, this is like-- this is basic sanity. This is where I wanna be. This is how I wanna be with fellow men, role modeling this to each other. Like, what the fuck does it mean? Pardon my French. Is Yeah, what does it mean to be a man today? What does that even mean?

Vincent Perez:

sanity

Brian Dwyer:

Basic sanity.

Vincent Perez:

There's something there I'm hearing around empathy, around a shared journey. Jordan, I notice when I sign up for the rituals with you, it says, I don't know if I'm gonna get this exact, but you don't have to do this alone. Don't do this alone. And more than anything, I'm hearing even from your response, Brian, this is a shared journey, and that empathy and that likeness, right? That sameness, is we were not alone. We are not alone. Jordan, I'm curious for you, what, what, same question. What, what does men's healing mean to you? What, resonates in Brian's answer? And, what even sparked you? You said you were called with the land, but to even create Grieving Men and hold these spaces, you know, five, six-hour rituals. and I know you have some weekend retreats as well, but, I'm curious, where does this stem from?

Jordan Lyon:

Thank you both. I think you're touching on a thread that goes deep and deep for me here. uh, I, I don't wanna throw these big words out there like patriarchy or white supremacy or colonialism or all the different isms or archies of archies and things, but there is an essence, I think, of, of soul severance, of separation, as well as individualization that is at the root of all of this. And this is, the feeling that we're separate from the living world, separate from each other, uh, even the mind separate from the heart and body. And I think this is at a lot of the root of how culture shapes and sculpts men today, of severing that connection, um, first off, yeah, from our emotions, from our bodies and our feelings. and this idea of, this dog-eat-dog world, that is competitive, comparative, and it's like we're fighting in a world of scarcity to prove ourselves to be worthy of belonging and love and resources to survive, livelihood. and in reality, this healing is around this coming back into togetherness, coming back into recognizing that, oh shit, the things that I'm holding, that I think I'm holding alone, that are unique to me, that make me feel fucked up and wrong and broken and dangerous, actually, there's so many others who are feeling the same stuff. And on top of that, it's something much bigger than us. These are ancestral cultural wounds that have guided us to, be in this position today. And, in a lot of ways, I look at our men's healing as ancestral healing, as cultural healing, and it has come back into this level of embodiment and feeling. And in this specific moment of time of the collective arc of l- life on this planet or, or humanity of, of these last, thousands of years, I feel grief is the pathway to composting what needs to be composted, to metabolize and alchemize everything that's, that's been, shaping us in ways out of right relationship and living, loving relationship with ourselves, each other, and the living world. And so in many ways, grieving man seems to be a, something that's beyond us that's just coming through us in this moment, and grief being this place of, where we get tenderized, of where we get shaped and come back into relationship with soul and something much bigger, our ancestors and community. And for all the ways that this grief-illiterate culture has told us, specifically men, to s-suppress our tears, The only actual emotion I felt like I received from my dad more or less was, was anger. and still it was the wrongness of anger. And I, I look at, the ways that, that it shaped me and, and if it doesn't have healthy places to be moved through, it comes out leaky, it comes out dangerous. And oftentimes anger is what's guiding us towards justice, towards our own dignity, towards knowing our boundaries and how we cross them. And so there's such wisdom in that and, grief being this, conduit of love for what's been lost, love for ourselves in the ways that we haven't been fully honored or received in the world or seen, and tapping back into our lineages of grief that hasn't, haven't been felt and grief in the culture around us, in our communities. And so coming together as men to tap into this softness, this slowness, this wildness, I wanna say, that grief brings, it seems to be one of the strongest pathways back to healing into the collective togetherness that I find ourselves, I find myself longing for. If there is an, an answer to, to men's healing, for me today, there's a lot of threads that, I think I could pull here, especially around how we show up in relationships, what this moment of time calls for with accountability and repair, and healing. But this, this crux of how can we come back together as a collective, as a community, as a circle? And that feels like the place, and it's like the ends and the means of men's healing. It's coming back into circle together, holding each other in the fierceness and the tenderness, the longings and the gifts and everything in between, um, the anger and the grief, the love and joy, pleasure and erotic aliveness, all of these things interwoven into a circle that holds it together.

Vincent Perez:

The circle, the gathering, the convening, the making time. The making time.

Jordan Lyon:

Mm-hmm

Vincent Perez:

Uh, you said something in there of, of the, the soul severance. And, Brian, when I think about your gifts and what you offer in my time with you, I think there's a soul mending that's occurring, in real time, in particular through music and sound, right? Not only, that what you're offering, but the expressions from within of our own sound that needs to be let out.

Brian Dwyer:

Hmm, hmm

Vincent Perez:

I'm c- I'm curious, Brian, for you in your partnership really in, in what you are, I don't know, it feels like a blossoming, right? There's, there's, there's a real fragrance and flavor to your offerings. I noticed that in some of the sessions originally there was some recorded music, and then you switched to bringing it live and making it in real time. And how does that for you, Brian, create this soul mending? Or, what are you finding in that real time music making with men?

Brian Dwyer:

something about men's healing, like men's healing to me, maybe another answer I… that came through in the last few minutes was it's beauty making, and it's throwing, it's throwing the better party, and it's, becoming music, and it's dancing, and it's like it's, it's that, that basic sanity I was talking about. It's like music and movement and eye gazing and actual like collective attention and holding each other and, and like platonic touch and tenderness. Like these are things that are so simple in one sense. They're so ancient, but they're so fresh because they're happening now, and they're something a lot of us weren't shown. Most of us, as men, were not shown how to do this in that severance we've been talking about. I don't know where music comes from. I don't know what a song actually is, but I know that I am like a cosmic jukebox that just songs come through me, and I, I'd never really had a place for them until ritual. I realized like these songs are for everybody. They're for all of us. They're meant to be sung as a-- as in groups. They're meant to be like lifted up together. And so Grieving Man is simultaneously like it's something that- that's coming through us, but also I feel it's dreaming us. Like it's dreaming me into my fullness, into my gift giving, and it's inviting-- I love to be a walking invitation of just like I'm a permission slip when I'm with people saying, "Hey, whatever your voice is, whatever sound you have to make, whatever the expression, you can't grieve without sound." That's all it is. Most, most grieving is the wailing and the, the expression that comes through when we're feeling these big feelings. To me, music is just, just a great vehicle for expression and aliveness, and it wakes up all my cells. I mean, for me personally, I'll just say, yeah, my DNA is dancing. I'm in deep connection with my ancestors when I'm in sound and I'm in rhythm. And so it's an honor to bring that in the flavor that we do to Grieving Man because I think, I feel that Grieving Man is a place I hope, my prayer is that anyone who's comes in contact with it feels invited to share their gifts, feels invited to share their beauty, their mess, and that fullness of just like, "What do you got?" Like, "Come on." Like, how, how loud can it get? How quiet can it get? How much attention can we share together right now about this very tender thing? I just think that's like a direct shot to modernity and whatever we're calling patriarchy. Music is just like, bah, just cuts through it. You can't intellectualize it, you know? I've been singing with men for almost a decade now, and it-- Men can sometimes intellectualize. We can intellectualize and get cerebral, but music cuts straight to, it goes straight to the heart. If you, if you let it in, it's gonna get you right in your heart, and it's love. It's like audible love.

Vincent Perez:

Audible love… You know, I'm curious, the, the beauty making also holding simultaneously grief because men are sharing, for me, right, is, it was the loss of my sister, but there's so many other forms of grief in, divorce and in childhood wounds and, I've been really surprised about, like, how broad grief is, in kind of many aspects of our lives, and I'm c- I'm curious, Jordan, for you over these last few years, what has it meant to explore that in such a deep and meaningful way?

Jordan Lyon:

I almost, I wanna put a, put a pin in this shortly and, and Vincent, I wanna hear your answer of, of men's healing. Like what does men's healing mean to you?

Vincent Perez:

Mm-hmm.

Jordan Lyon:

I, I'm, I'm myself longing for as much of a conversation here as possible, even though I, I do have a, a tendency of I can be, be put on my soapbox very easily and start ranting about whatever else, and then I'll just want Yam to sing for me. But I wanna hear your voice

Vincent Perez:

You know, choosing the word healing was, was very intentional in the Men's Healing Network, but what I'm finding is resonating what, what you already said around the N in MHN, in network. It seems the most critical. It's actually the connection points. It's actually being in relationship. And in this modernity, in all of our busyness, and all of our screens, and all of our times in our little bubbles in the cars, and there's seems less and less time to be present. I'm really grateful for even this format. You know, we're all in our separate spaces. We get to come together online in this way, and I've had some beautiful, beautiful work occur online. but what you're doing in person and physical touch being a huge component of that, right? So I think for me, ultimately, it's about those connections. It's about that, mending, rewiring. I, I think in a metaphor of healing of the wound, right? If I, cut my arm and there's a big gash, and I do nothing for it, right? It, you know, maybe some rock that was all dirty and, you know, we- it's gonna get infected, and, you know, might have to cut off my arm or, or it'll kill me, right? It'll literally, that infection will grow, and I think that happens to our souls, right? And some of us never, ever clean it up. And what do we do? We, we clean it, right? We put on the salve. We, wrap it up real nice. And the, healing ha- occurs naturally. We don't will it, right? It's like I concentrate my cells, do their thing, right? It just occurs when we create the conditions. And so more than anything, I, for me, men's healing means what are those conditions? And I'm asking that question again and again. You all are creating those conditions. Embodied masculine, another outfit. I get to part of the real somatic work of going internal into the exploration of what's in my internal emotional landscape. Those are the, the conditions. Being in conversation. You know what I'm doing more and more, over the last year, year and a half, is voice messages, with men on WhatsApp. So, you know, making a phone call where always you have to be aligned in timing and people's work lives or whatever, but leaving a voice message that could occur, or be dropped, right? Even for a few days. Few days go by, I can listen to it, I can sit with it, I can reflect, and then I can offer my response. So even those connections, have been so rich for me. It's like a stream of consciousness. And so it comes back to that, network, that connection, that actual coming together more than anything. That's-- it's making time

Jordan Lyon:

Well, thank you. I, I just, I, I love that, just hearing you talk about relationship and that being the actual space for where healing happens. And, and it's like I, I don't believe in gurus or healers or, you know, we always say we're not experts in this work. If anything, we, we, you know, been blessed to have elders at our backs that a lot of people don't find. We've been blessed to find a lineage of teachings and then apprentice with our own sorrow and our own grief. But the relationship, I feel there's, there's, like in this culture change and these big thoughts, We're changing culture by how we show up in our relationships. This, this like relational soil between us, that's where it is. So even hearing you talk about voice notes and continuing to tend and care for people and, and just building deep relationship that can show all of us that we can show up differently for each other. There is care around us. We're not alone in this, all these things. and there is support is just so beautiful to hear. And so thanks for sharing that, Vincent. I, I'm happy to, to just share a little bit of the grief story for you now too if, if that's helpful, but I'm, I'm glad to hear your voice in here.

Vincent Perez:

Yeah. I do wanna note, our producer for this podcast, Tom, is somebody we, we share those voice notes quite often, and it has been such a gift

Jordan Lyon:

Yeah.

Vincent Perez:

And you also mentioned something around like the being the vessel, right? Being, being open enough so that the messages can come through, from the land. So this is relationship with, you know, with our fur babies. This is relationship with, the natural world. Right? It extends beyond our human connections into being in relation in totality.

Jordan Lyon:

And for me, this touches on some of the other themes that Yam is bringing in. We are also deep voice note buddies as well, and so I really appreciate you and Tom like that. These themes of beauty and music-making to cultivate relationship. And I think specifically for the land I live on and the trees out here, I find myself singing with the songbirds in the morning. I find myself creating altars and sharing the beauty. The other day I, I just picked a wildflower bouquet, and I've been helping my mom move into a new place because my stepfather passed and she's coming to move closer. And, and I showed her this beautiful bouquet and I'm like,"I'm so sorry this isn't for you." And she didn't get it that I was like, "I'm gifting this to the land." She's like, "Who is this for? What is this?" You know? But it's like actually these acts of beauty-making and sharing with the more-than-human realm builds like it, it is part of the reweaving of the soul. It, it, it's a reconnecting part. And those moments of, awe and reverence and praise and sharing ourselves with the more-than-human realm weaves us and, and brings us back into togetherness with that. And so, yeah, really feeling these, th- these threads very much alive, and also grieving with the land is such a beautiful offering. It's like, yes, yes, our tears can be brought and, and offered to the land with such reverence and, um, and holding that, you know, there might not be a better place to, to, to actually to, to grieve than that. I'll just share really briefly because both Brian and I, and I'd love to then pass this over to Brian, like we have stories of our own grief, our own journeys with grief that led us to this. And, and for me, it was six years ago with a partner who didn't pass but, had a really intense accident, had a spinal cord injury, became paralyzed, and was dependent on a ventilator to breathe, and my life just got fully consumed in caregiving for this human that was my lover, my partner. A- and all of these levels of like day in and day out, it was just suppressing my own grief to show up for her in hospitals throughout the West Coast. It was just like, okay, like I've gotta show up for this person. And on the other end of it, I ended up being like, I'd lost myself, and I was in such a broke- broken down place where I didn't even know what grief was, and I didn't even know what was working me. But I found myself snapping out all the time, I found myself breaking down often, and I just didn't know what. And I, I stumbled upon this elder who Brian and I have both connected with so deeply, Lawrence Cole in the Pacific Northwest, who'd been holding these grief rituals. And as I came to them, to answer your question, I thought I was coming just to work on this one grief, but actually what it opened up into was just this well of grief of so much more. It was, it was the childhood wounds of these parts that didn't get loved. There's a book by Francis Weller called "The Wild Edge of Sorrow," which talks about these five gates of grief. And they touch in on these bigger, bigger wounds and, and opening up our hearts to feel the loss of, you know, inte- genocide on the other side of the world, Of even a clear cutting in our neighborhood, in our own backyards, or, walking in the streets of Seattle for me and, and seeing just the, depth of, carnage that modernity and this culture are bringing on so many humans that are just so disconnected and lost and just trying to survive. And all of these levels of, grief. You talked about all these big, thick things in the personal re- realm as well as the collective realm, and there's just so much to grieve in this moment. there's so much grief in our own lineages that it is stuck, in our families, in our communities. And in the last piece I just wanna mention here that feels so powerful in this time of deeper reckoning, I'm looking at this moment in the collective as like some of our darkest shadows are coming up to the surface, and a lot of them have to do with men and power and sexuality and, all of these ways that sexual violence and harm has occurred oftentimes through, ungrounded, dangerously expressed male erotic energy. And there is this sixth gate of grief, which this amazing teacher and friend Holly Tru Lar has has stewarded in her work as l- as well with, with others around the harms we've caused. And the importance to have compassionate accountability process is a- another term from her, and these places to come where first and foremost we can get tender with ourselves to feel the depth of what it feels to harm people, to live a… A- and it's inevitable that we'll harm people in relationship on all different levels. There's gonna be hurt happening and impact happening because relationship is messy. But this part of ourselves that, can actually come to a place of grieving and feeling the anger, feeling the loss and the sorrow and the shame and the guilt, and being held in that instead of this, this side of our culture which is so into punitive, accountability processes or canceling or the fear, which actually stops men from taking accountability to actually showing up in deeper relational repair processes because it is safer for me, to deny having caused harm and say, you know, some other shit about what happened than actually take accountability and actually collectively allow it to be a collective healing process, because I don't wanna lose Belong. I don't wanna go to jail. I don't wanna do these things. And so actually, I'm finding my work going deeper into grief as a conduit to help us heal and show up better in accountability processes because of the grief around the harms we've caused. and that's something that is just so rich and ripe with more and more men who are showing up in more depth, more honesty, and more realness in all the different ways. And so I'll stop there and pass it to Brian if Brian wants to share about his story with grief and, and then I wanna hear a song if you got a song to go-

Brian Dwyer:

How about a song first and then a share? a, it's a freshy… It's just a, a single line. There's gonna be more to it, but I just kinda just-- songs kinda work me for a little bit before they give birth to the next part. And it, it just says, um, it says, "Role model to me what it means to be a man." Mm-hmm. And it just goes, "Role model to me what it means to be a man. Role model to me what it means. Role model to me what it means to be a man. Role model to me what it means." Yeah, and so on. There's more to say, but I would say my road in is first and foremost because I'm a dad.

Vincent Perez:

Hmm.

Brian Dwyer:

Right now, my son just turned 12 a few weeks ago. He is at the threshold. It's such a magical time, and it's also, as a father in this moment in time, with this many screens everywhere and all the information that's ever been recorded by humans right here in a little rectangle, I can say I've never needed other friends and men more. Like, more uncles, more cousins. I need my-- I don't have my birth family around me. I've moved like so many of us from where I was born. And so I, I long for a culture where I can invite my son into saying, "This is what it means to grow into being 12, into being 13, into being 25, 85. What it means to just be you right now." Like, I can't teach him anything if I'm not actually actively personifying and practicing myself what it means. So that takes me back to crash course where I didn't even know what grief was. I didn't have a word for it. This could be its own conversation, its own thread on a podcast, but I'll do my best to just distill down that I found myself as a brand-new father. I was six months into being a brand-new dad. I was so excited, and out of nowhere, life completely just… I felt like T-boned. Like, I was going on a certain road, and life just came along. The universe was like, "And cancer." Like, "Your six-month-old has cancer, and there's tumors growing in his eyes." And I was living in Philly at the time. I'm from New York State. But I can just tell you that the following years of that moment, as a brand-new father, the excitement and then the devastation of I could lose this child right now, and I have no idea how to help him. And then being, like, exposed to the… Oh, it's hard to even talk about. But, how broken down our systems are, to take care of each other. How, how broken like… I mean, modern medicine, I'm thankful that my son's alive because of modern medicine, and also it just opened me up to a whole ocean of suffering of other people. Seeing how poisonous and harsh these medicines are that doctors give children, it broke me in half, and I had no one to talk to about it. None of my friends understood what I was going through. I didn't even understand what I was going through, but I, I, I had feelings that I didn't know what to do with. I would say at that point it kinda snapped me. And 12 years later, it's like I look at myself and I'm like, "Whoa, um Thank the stars, thank the universe that there are other people who want to grieve together.'Cause I've never-- I, I held that grief alone for so long, tried to share it, but I didn't realize, like, grief can only really be transmuted and moved collectively. Like, we can hold our individual grief, we can tend it ourself, but something happens, something transmutes when we're together and actually witnessing each other in our pain, in our loss, in our trauma, in our triumph. and so to me, yeah, it's always been about, like, my, my role as a parent has kind of been a compass for me of what's nourishing, what's beneficial, what's useful in the world. As I realize I have no idea how to be a dad of a 12-year-old, it's like I need men and friends to show me and to show him because I am terrified by the-- what I see on my screens and what I scroll through. I see so many stuck, scared, sad, numb men, and I totally get it, and I refuse to believe that that's what I wanna pass along to my son. Like, I, I know a- I know a more vibrant world because I live among men who show each other and practice together what it means to create vibrancy and beauty and aliveness and to sob together when we lo- when we-- like, even the loss of, like, his childhood. Like, I'm, I'm learning on a very personal scale, it's like grief can just be the loss of childhood into adulthood. It can be me as a dad saying, "Oh, oh, I miss my little boy. I miss that little guy who I could hold." Like that's-- there's grief there. And to be held in that, to be welcomed in the fullness of my expression around that, in this nonlinear journey of grief, like, what else could a man hope for in this world right now? Like, I'm so grateful that I have you all in my life and others that are trying to open that aperture up and be like, "I wanna feel more. I wanna be more alive than I was shown, th- than I was, like, conditioned to believe." So I don't know if that answered your question, but We need more glad dads in this world. To me, that's a response to patriarchy. We talk about disrupting it and breaking it down, but I'm like, well, at its root, the word pa, it's like that's an old sound. And the more glad dads and glad brothers and glad friends and cousins we can have in this world actually helping show each other how to do it, like that's a pretty good antidote to this cultural amnesia that I inherited in the suburbs of New York,

Vincent Perez:

What's fascinating me is you're, you're talking about the glad dad, the joy, the connection, the beauty amidst or a while or like their cousins with the pain, the suffering. I don't know, what's emerging for me is this idea of slowing down and being in relationship with pain, being in relationship with suffering, which as I look at my own life, right, all the numbing I've done, all the running away from the pain. There was a great bit of denial. For seven years, I couldn't even, look at an image of, of my sister. seven years, and I, look back at that and, re- I regret that. I regret that I missed the time to honor her, even if it's, uh, if it's painful. she was blind since birth, and she's, she's my whole narrative. She taught me. I was a teacher. She-- I taught her how to tie her shoes and how to clasp buttons and how to ride a bike. People couldn't believe she was blind. I, you know, taught this, taught her how to write when she was nine and I was 14. So she gave me my vocation. But my, my wife and I were in the mall, this, I think around the seventh year, and there was a person using a cane, and it was such a trigger. I, I literally fell to the ground in the moment. I could not… I just… It hit me. It was so heavy. I was carrying it for so long that the weight of it just stopped me in my tracks, and I'm sobbing on this, you know, stone floor that, you know, cold And as I consider, I don't, I don't want to call it a service. I don't have to call it a gift. Your, your, you know, your offerings here, but what is the teachings of pain? And even Brian, how you're talking about, like, I kind of grieve the little boy. Oh, they were three, and then they're five and I miss, kind of miss that three-year-old. And then they're seven and then I kind of miss that other piece. And like, we continually have to let go of those, periods. Uh, I'm now a grandfather and so even for my grandson as he's coming and he starts to walk, and he's so different in just a few months, right? With all that, all that that's happening in our brains and development. That they're no longer that other person they were, and so we have to grieve that as well, in a, in a joyous way to see the development and growth. Um, I'm curious for either one of you w- where you wanna take this around being in relationship with pain

Brian Dwyer:

It's okay to feel pain. It's okay to feel heal. It's okay to feel pain. It's okay to feel, mm-mm. Oh, that's, that's the words of my co-parent Yin, Yin Friend. It's a song she sings, and I'll just pass the ball to you, Jordan. Come on back to me, but I'm tapping the ball to you

Jordan Lyon:

Catching it over here. oh, this is such a juicy, good moment and, and topic. And, and Vincent, thanks for bringing in and, and weaving the story of your sister there too. That, that means a lot to be welcomed into this space. There's something here really around supporting men to be, and even just, yeah, my own journey of being more resilient and comfortable in the discomfort, in the pain, and staying with it. And staying with it because there's something that it, it works us, it tempers us, it alchemizes us. It's part of this reconnection with soul. It's part of this, like, reweaving back from the individual as, like, the individualized self into the togetherness and being with it, and opening up with it, being in relationship with it. You asked the question so beautifully, like, that is it right there. And, and I'm finding myself wanting to go down this quick rabbit hole of, of noticing these, these trends that often happen specifically with men when, when b- intense feedback is given, or someone shares impact, or something that makes someone feel the pain of another or discomfort in their body, or even sitting with their own pain. And these, these different ways of, of sometimes I watch people collapse. It's like they get lost in the shame, they get lost in the wrongness of it. They get want- wanting to disassociate from it, and it could be, you know, going into numbing things and addictive, patterns, substances, porn, so many different things to, to, to food, to just disconnect from the numb, uh, fr- from the pain and not just be present with it. But this moment of, like, collapse and, like, the shame spiral, for instance, like, it's all interwoven together. There's another side that, that I've noticed, like, there's a, like a, almost like a rubber band snapping back of, like, an intense anger, like, like an outburst of, like, pushing it out and actually, like, blaming something or getting angry or, or, or a big type of, projectile, yeah, projectile shit, like, just gets put out there. And it's like, "Oh, I, I'm gonna, like, I don't feel good about this discomfort, the pain, and I'm gonna make myself not feel it by attacking something else." And oftentimes that is someone else. And I'll specifically just weave in this thread of we have an amazing integrity council with Grieving Man full of non-binary folks and women, and I, I feel so blessed to have so many women around me sculpting me and guiding me and, teaching me. And one of the, most common pieces of feedback I hear from women about not feeling safe to even give criticism or just share some of their, more tender parts or just feel safe enough to even be held in their anger, whatever it might be, it's that the way that's often received by a man is either collapsing or attacking back. And those two things are being a place of like, no, actually, can we sit with the pain and discomfort of others in ourselves and just be present with it? And there's something there that just feels so, so important, And there is that alchemizing nature of pain, and the need to work with it. This is making me think of this quote from Martine Prechtel of like,"When in doubt, create beauty." And it can be a place of us channeling that and, and it, and it can be from music and art and presence and all the different things. The other place, and this is my own pattern that I've been recognizing, and it touches on the theme that you brought in, Yam, of, the cerebral man, you know, staying up in the head. And it's that I've actually realized that I can come to a place of trying to I wanna say alchemize pain too quickly and get to the place of like,"Oh, it all happened for a reason. Oh, this leads to now this, and I have this kind of moment," or, or, or, or some framing of, of like, there's a lesson now out of it. And actually, I want to invite people to stay in the pain longer before we start getting just into, "Oh, that was meant to happen so I could learn this lesson." Because there is something there, especially when the pain is relational. A- and maybe all pain is relational, and it's all coming from these deeper wounds and, these places of, of these longings to belong and these longings to be seen and to be held, and then the fractures, when that doesn't happen, or just the natural, that might come up in relationship and how that leads to pain for us, our attachment wounds and how we separate or get anxious and all of these different discomforts in us. But there's something around not moving too quickly into turning it into medicine or turning it into a lesson and actually staying with it that actually feels like that's where it is, it, it is shaping us for, something larger than us. And so, um, I'll leave it at that. Yes, Brian.

Brian Dwyer:

Well, firstly, thank you for all those wisdom jewels and Thank you, inner elder. Thank you. my inner, my inner elder just wants to say that, when you said pain, Guatama Buddha himself, it's like pain is fundamental to this entire experience of being a human. And so I find the word that's coming up for me is like, it's intimate. Like, how do we relate to pain? we relate with-- I relate with deep intimacy at this point. Very… Like, the way you'd be intimate. And when I say intimacy, I don't just mean in the erotic or sexual. I mean, I'm talking the slowness and attentiveness of being intimate with like your morning breakfast or a baby's face or a beautiful sunset. It's like, that's intimate. If you-- That's as intimate as you want to allow it to be. And I feel like pain to me, it's like, fine. If part of the prerequisite of taking on a body as a soul and becoming a human is pain, then it's like, how, how intimate can I be with that? And what can I find in there that's like a jewel for me or for… It's this beauty that we see. Like, the beauty doesn't mean it erases the suffering or the sorrowfulness. It's just, it's beautiful to express that together and not hold onto it or let it be corrosive or swallow us whole, I feel like that's the word coming through me is just intimacy. That's how I want to relate with my pain, with intimacy and vibrancy and… more nice words about like what it, what we find inside our pain when we actually hold it together. it changes the contour of the shape. I carry it differently when I'm holding it with my fellow human beings and all the earth beings that are holding me, and all the unseen things that are supporting us even to breathe. I'm with all of them, and they're holding it with me, and that's beautiful. And that somehow makes this experience more workable, more tolerable, more like navigatable than just imagining we're some separate siloed thing that's just being crushed by the weight of existence. That's for me, that's how I experience it.

Vincent Perez:

More whole.

Brian Dwyer:

more whole.

Vincent Perez:

even when you're saying the exploration of intimacy is really of the sacred. And I, and I know none of us here know this too, but I… It makes me think of childbirth, right? Which I've heard is very painful.

Brian Dwyer:

And,

Vincent Perez:

So

Brian Dwyer:

and also I'm, going with it, like I don't know how many times I've done this, but I, I wonder, how many roles we've gotten to fulfill and try things out and practice things, you know, as a soul. So yeah, birth. Woo.

Vincent Perez:

As we begin to wrap up here, I'm c- I'm curious if there's anything that you felt that was missing that, that would be relevant for our listeners, in your path, in your journey that's, uh, kind of a morsel here we wanna pass along

Jordan Lyon:

Is there anything you'd like to say about pain too? I, I keep finding myself wanting to learn from you and listen to you, Vincent, too

Vincent Perez:

It kinda, I can get lost in jargon too, but there, but there is a pedagogy to pain, right? There, there is lessons in teaching, and I'm still learning this, To slow down and spend time to be with that but not alone, in relationship, and to hold that. I think ultimately I'm coming to an even deeper sadness of how little there is, how little opportunities there are to do exactly this, My best friend, Leonard Slacks lost his son, Gavin. Um, he took his own life. This is 10 years ago. He was 16. And they told a story-- He tells me this story years ago. They're in the grocery store, and there was this lasagna they used to get, and they used to get a couple of them 'cause he was 16. He used to eat all, all the food. And they realized they didn't have to get the big lasagna anymore. And there's, there's, there's him, his wife, Tiff, and the, the, the other boys, and they're just in a puddle in a grocery store crying in the frozen aisle Because there's no other spaces for us. So the fact that you are creating these spaces, that you're living out this, vocational kind of calling even the fact that I even got to come across you all and, and you know, just my paths have crossed you and then we, you know, hopefully we share this more and more. But, it's almost like the, what's the church of pain? You know, like where's the, the space that we go to the, the altar? And I, and I, I think so much of religion has, just doesn't honor that anymore. I think there are, there are some roots, that have really figured out how to be with that. and even as you mentioned earlier, I mean- Nearly daily, I feel genocide. Nearly daily, there's moments that just come across me and I'm just struck with like how much turmoil and harm. And what you said in particular, Jordan, around like how can men be with the harm that they've caused? How liberating can that really be, right? But to make and take the time to do that is the challenge

Jordan Lyon:

Oh, thank you. Just I'm feeling the tenderness of that story and also the, the clarity and also feeling just grateful for the warm, loving words for, for the work that Yam and I, and we gotta name our, our third founder and, and co-creator Elia here as well, who you know, you know deeply too. This thread just feels, feels so alive. it's that liberating of ourselves from the harms we've caused and the healing. This is what we need to do so we don't pass it on to our kids, to the next generation. And if there is a theme coming through me from this conversation, it's slowing down. How can we have these spaces to slow down enough together? Really slow down to feel what is here and to feel what hasn't been felt and hold it together, and not holding it alone and moving from fast-paced, productive, doing thing or numbing thing after another. And whether it's your phone or a bottle or work or whatever it might be, sex, who knows? It's like, how can we slow down enough to come back into the spaciousness that's naturally there when we attune to what's inside with others and that realm. And so this slowing down, these other themes coming up to me around like this deep grief of loss of village, this deep grief of loss of our rites of passage and initiatory jou- journeys. And again, grief is that. as Francis Weller taught, is a rough initiation often. And it is the weaving us back into village, and it's all about how can we slow down together to feel and remember our reconnection with the living world. I'm looking outside at the trees here on this beautiful spring day here on the island I live on, and I, I think of, just slowing down to be in deeper relationship with my body. And pain is so fucking easy to run away from."God, I'm uncomfortable. What am I gonna do? I'm gonna start scrolling. I'm gonna…" Whatever, you know, it's all these things. And so the slowing down, this theme, and, and I think you might have brought in first Vincent, and Yam, you talked about it a bit too,'cause that feels so ripe of what I'm taking away from this conversation. And it's not just in ritual spaces. This is in the daily practices. This is what happens when we wake up in the morning. This is what happens when we're in between rushing from things and, and slowing down enough to create a little bit more presence and care with ourselves and others.

Vincent Perez:

Thank you so much. Uh, Brian, I wanna invite you to close us out

Brian Dwyer:

Thanks for the invitation, Vincent, again and again. I'm gonna, listen for a moment into the in- internal cosmic radio stations. Healing's coming up. I think that's what you brought in. That's what this is, Men's Healing Network. So this is a song that, uh, is a prayer. It's a wish. It's an aspirational, asking to believe that healing is possible within us and w- within ourselves and each other. You're welcome to sing it along with me if you catch it. The words are simple. It's, "Healing is happening.

Vincent Perez:

Hmm

Brian Dwyer:

Healing is happening. Healing is happening in me, in me, in me." There's more words, but I'll just, yeah, I'll sing it. And I invite you too to, um, if you want to turn off your cerebral mechanisms and just receive this wherever you are, whoever you are listening to this, whatever you're up to right now, as you yourself practice slowing down perhaps for a moment just to receive this love from the universe in the form of this song Would you take a breath with me before we enter the song realm? Healing is happening in me, in me. Healing is happening. Healing is happening. It's possible. Healing is happening

Vincent Perez:

Hmm.

Brian Dwyer:

in me, in me. I am asking for help. I am willing to receive help. I am asking for help. I am willing to receive. I am asking for help. I am willing to receive help. I am asking for help. I am willing to receive. And you can imagine like being in a circle with like 30 men, and they come from all different backgrounds and lineages and just all kinds of places, and they're all like, "We are asking for help." You can sing it if you want. We are willing to receive help. Whoever you are. We are asking for help.

Vincent Perez:

help.

Brian Dwyer:

We are willing to receive. To the

Vincent Perez:

it

Brian Dwyer:

We are asking for help. We are willing to receive help. We are asking for help. We are willing to receive. We are willing to receive. We are willing to receive. That healing is happening.

Vincent Perez:

What is happening?

Brian Dwyer:

Healing is happening. Beauty is happening in me, in me. Fill in the blank. Mm, is happening. Mm, is happening. Mm, is happening in me, in me

Vincent Perez:

What's happened Blessing

Brian Dwyer:

Blessings

Vincent Perez:

I'm so grateful for you too. Thank you for making time. Thank you for making time

Jordan Lyon:

Grateful to you. Thank you for

Brian Dwyer:

Two thousand percent.

Jordan Lyon:

You for all the ways you show up in your work. So appreciate you, Vincent

Vincent Perez:

as I sit with this conversation, one phrase continues

to echo in my heart:

We are asking for help we are willing to receive. There is something profoundly courageous about that. Not because asking for help is weak, but because so many of us were taught to carry everything alone. Jordan and Brian reminded us that healing is not a solitary act. It happens in relationship. It happens in community. It happens when we create enough space to feel what has been waiting to be felt. Throughout this conversation, we explored grief, not as something to avoid or fix, but as something that can reconnect us to ourselves, to one another, and to the living world around us. We talked about slowing down. We talked about beauty. We talked about fatherhood, friendship, music, ritual, and the simple but transformative act of gathering together in honest human presence. If there's one invitation I leave with you, it's this: What might happen if you gave yourself a little more time to feel? What might happen if you reached out to someone you've been meaning to call? What might happen if you stopped carrying something alone? Thank you for spending time with us. Thank you to Jordan Lyon and Brian"Yam" Dwyer for sharing their wisdom, their stories, and their songs. And thank you for being part of the Men's Healing Network. The Men's Healing Network podcast is brought to you in part through the support of Choice Regional Health Network, whose commitment to community well-being helps make this work possible. Our podcast is produced by Tom Keppeler. A special thanks to Dee Enriquez for her logistical and marketing expertise. Until next time, may you remember that healing is possible, connection is available, and that you do not have to walk this path alone. Blessings to you and yours.