In 2006, I attended a men’s conference, representing a small facility for recovering men I helped create. At the time, the place was still relatively new. We had a booth, and I spent nearly the entire time manning it to promote our little program. Meanwhile, Robert Bly was the keynote speaker. Because he was scheduled to do a book signing one afternoon, I bought a copy of “Iron John,” having no idea what impact it would eventually have on my life. Seeing this tall and regal, yet salty old man walk into the room, I was immediately curious about the buckskin vest he wore over a shirt I can’t...