I Found Myself In a Lodge
I found myself in a lodge
one ordinary evening
on an unremarkable street
No grand gates, no secret passage
Just a simple door
Opened by a man who knew my name
before I said it
That’s how it begins,
Not with ceremony
but with welcome
I found myself in a lodge
and nothing felt forced
The room wasn’t cold or mysterious
It was warm with conversation,
hands shaking hands,
nods between men who had
known each other for years
and others who had just arrived.
The kind of place
where your presence matters
before your story is known
I found myself in a lodge
where I stood in darkness once
Not out of shame, but preparation
To understand that light
has to be earned to be valued
I found myself in a lodge
where mistakes weren’t punished,
they were corrected–
gently, firmly,
with a hand on the arm,
Not a finger pointed in blame
Because no one here was finished,
and no one ever would be.
Each of us a rough ashlar
being shaped, slowly, together
I found myself in a lodge
and when I stepped outside,
The stars were the same
The streets were the same
But I was not
Not because I had been changed
by magic or myth,
but because I had found
the version of myself
who had been waiting
all along
I found myself in a lodge
and I stayed.
Not for the ceremony, or the mystery
But for the men
The way they stood for each other
The way they welcomed the new
with the same steady warmth
as they honored the old
I found myself in a lodge
where I understood what it means to belong
To be needed,
To be missed,
To be called Brother,
By men who mean it
I found myself in a lodge
where I wasn’t alone
Not because I found all the answers
But because I found people
willing to ask the questions with me
– Anthony Ruse –
