Weekend Wisdom

Weekend Wisdom #4: Which “You” Do You Want Women To Know?

Adam Gilad
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If you are like most men, you crush the infinity of your heart and your imagination into crumbs…

You register for a dating site and pulverize into dust all the joy you have brought to others and offer granules as you…

You bury all the wonder that has ripped your heart open while standing on clifftops and offer a few dull lines as you…

You forget all the laughter you have shared with friends, all the love you with which you have cradled your parents, your siblings, your nieces and nephews…

You list job titles. Drop stale bookmarks that merely prove you’ve been here.

You crank out your life-stats, bored as a half-drunk sportswriter sleepwalking toward retirement. “Been to 13 countries. Likes Thai food. Soccer on Sundays.”

And out there…

Out there…

… sneaking a peek on her desktop between time’s dull drip of the nine to five, her soft eyes brush your profile pic, your “name” – 1Lawyer35, Scubaman, Brian9373 – her heart sinking as she struggles to conjure from your meager offerings a pulse, the embrace of your warm arms from her motherboard…

Out there…

… lowering herself into the cold chair at her kitchen table, cat on her thighs, CNN droning from the next condo, unfolding her laptop, scrolling from profile to profile, searching for dark eyes that might cherish her, or the mischief-flash of daring that might whisk her out of the dim grid of Minimalls, strap her into a bright life-vest and take her skittering like river-dolphins across the churn of whitewater…

Out there…

…her heart breaking every morning as she opens her eyes, remembering the face that once beheld her from the next pillow, his slight grizzle, a promise of safety, a harbor…

Out there…

… convincing herself, convincing her friends, convincing her parents, “I’m “ok,” no I’m fine, no I’m happy, I’m busy, I’ve got my friends, I’m running another marathon, don’t worry about me…”

… while in truth…

… her heart is BREAKING to welcome a man like you into her arms.

Into her bed.

Into her loving heart, which workaday pant-suits and rules have imprisoned with as iron a lock as any medieval chastity belt ever locked away a woman’s virtue.

She is waiting for YOU, but…

Which “you” do you bring to her? Her – luscious, loving, yearning, waiting. Like a typhoon could waiting for you to release her.

How are you going to pick the lock over her heart and unloose the torrents of love she has stored up for you?

Which “you” reaches out through the fiber-optic to connect all you are, all you have been and all you might ever be – to all she is, all she has ever been and all she might bloom into being within the embrace of your care and support?

Can you stop hiding yourself away? Can you give all without fear of shame or being too vulnerable, too much or too little?

Can you give all because that’s what you are?

Can you give all because that’s what she’s waiting to see, to hear, to feel?

A man who offers himself, fearless?

We hide our true dreams like childhood toys in tin boxes… even though women spin into delight when you awaken their imaginations.

We hide the mighty edifices of our strength of heart, of body, of service, of great dreams – because something hunched away in us is afraid someone will ding them with the BB guns of their pettiness.

Why succumb to smallness?

If you want a magnificent woman, the kind who is a torrent of love and passion, of laughter and joy…

Then do not bring yourself to women in finger bowls and inboxes.

Because you will only end up with women who bring themselves to you measured out in coffeespoons.

When there are so many women – out there – who will drench you in their love.

Bring them in from out there…

If you lead with your doubts and your constrictions, that’s all you will get back in return…

Yesterday, I spoke over an hour with a man among you who is a powerhouse of brilliance and service to the oppressed of this world, and he broke my heart.

Because with all he had to offer, every five minutes, he returned our discussion of the love he wants to find in this world to his looks, which he believes to nearly prohibitive.


Women don’t care so much about the shape of your face, they care about how you bring your face to the world — open, expectant and curious or half-hidden, half-shamed, half-defeated.

Women don’t want to be “picked-up,” they want to be UPLIFTED.

Which “you” are you bringing to women?

I can tell you.

I can tell you by the quality of women who are responding to your offered “you.”

If you give big passion, you draw big passion.

If you bring your love of life, you get drenched by women’s life-love in return.

If you dribble yourself out dry as playing cards, that’s all she’ll deal back to you.

Is that all you want?

Do you want more?

Then listen to Emerson in “Give All To Love”…

Give all to love;
Obey thy heart;
Let it have scope,
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope;
High and more high…

The great game of great passion from great women is not for the meek…

‘Tis not for the mean,
It requireth courage stout,
Souls above doubt,

Do you want to live a life half-lived?

Do you want to be loved by a woman only half-loved?

When you offer your full heart, you draw a woman’s monsoon steam.

When you give up a life-by-halves, you create a life in full.

Emerson closed that poem…

When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.

And so, my friend, do the goddesses!

To Your Best Life,


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