Sexual Healing

Here we are.

There are many deals between men and women.

On this place called Earth, the planet, our globe, a karma board or grid of happenstance, the set up has a baseline state of both genders being sexual beings for the sake of the division that exists for us to come together. Talk about complicating the paradox!

Sex tells us we are alive. It screams at us to feel alive. It encourages us to make a life for ourselves (attractive enough to attract). How can we make it work to achieve a better bridge betwen one another?

If we bump into a table, or when a leaf falls on our head, or a seagull defecates upon it (to add an element of obvious vital dynamics to the picture) then we feel our shin, our head, our body, which gives us the sense of life. A sense is just an impression made by an external factor. Life is this externality, which we either take in (like air or nutrition) or leave outside (foreign bodies). This is the actual Great Divide and the Great Beast likes this and can work with this. We do too, but at a risk (of falling like a king on a chessboard to the greater player).

Becoming Whole

Having sex by yourself is possible. It is not to find a barbie-doll pair of D-cup chesticles on a pornsite and finding oneself aroused by that substitution for anything that is remotely alive. It is not to lie in bed and pull out the silicon dildo from underneath a copy of the Bible. It can very well be a ritual in the process of self-healing. The so-called experimental phase every teen is likely to go through belongs to this attempt at becoming whole or finding the Real Self. For we are fragmented, either as brittle flakes or sharp shards, when we fall “from the sky” as spirit beings; each in our own miniscule speck of light a tiny part of a Hierarchy that is not yet. In sickness and in love-relationships alike (in virtue or vice, flawed or genius) we explore wholeness, health, heart. It’s all going towards the same purpose: to get to the essence of this purpose that is the meaning of life.

Sex Matters

It does. It does what it can, and wants what it could do.
Who, though, determines what that is?
Seldom the female.
Often it is the love of life spilling over into the idea of love creating a chain of concepts about what sex is or should be.

We become sad cases when we no longer can be touched to feel ourselves as sexual beings: capable of that magical dance that is a to-and-froing between two I's. When instead we become soloists trapped in a make-belief pressure chamber with an inane compulsion for relief.

Maybe it is not so bad when we try to be playful about it. Take it or leave it, like a pizza or a burger. Why not, if it's on offer? Or with a sporting mind we come to sex as a noble kind of wiff-waff (ping-pong, table tennis), but then (if we now ask me, what I think sex serves best) without the resitance of this table that is my body meeting your body with all our particular sensitivities caused by bird poop or glass table tops. Too often I have been pushed around to surrender to penetration by the emotional haematomas the body covers up with lust. How can this be liberating to my soul?

Heroic feats of sexual performance

It takes a well-deceived mind to be able to have sex with someone (including yourself) who is not that into it. I do not scoff at these efforts, but I lament them all the same.

Victorians, puritans, religious zealots have gone so far as to curse the arousal caused by women. Poor lasses. Fie on them who know not what they do? But what about the modern women who tease but do not close the deal? Are they all teasing? Are not some doing what men say they do best: listening to the other patiently, like a nurse, letting them finish their boring, repetitive story, hoping it may be healing to express their confusion and lack of direction. Is it then not fie on the men who turn to score another point on a table, designated "ours", but defined by mine and thine again. Considerate sex is all good and well, but almost a non-nomer. What about connecting sex, that aims to recognise what needs to be done in order to consolidate an "us".
Otherwise we never have more than bodies (and minds) doing their thing, bearing the weight of the matter, while the spirit of it, the hearts are poorly connected into one blazing hearth.

Sex can leave you blue and lonely. This is Spirit waiting out in the cold while something muscluar and membranous went on. Lost in the labyrinth, he a minotaur still. She left on the beach hiding in the cave of sleep, Theseus our hero (in any man or woman) nowhere to be found.

Is it our humble female task to give that simple pat on the back for reassurance? If there is no insult taken....
The comfort of knowing what still works. Give him this much to say about himself: I am alive, at least as far as that department goes.
Taoist practitioners might not agree, however. Orthodox Chassidic Jews maybe neither. One does not waste energy or spill seed and there are, from my studies, great underlying truths about our divine nature to be deduced from these pragmatic observations or hygienic advice. I tentatively join their ranks to raise an eyebrow at the prize in the climax reached like some mountain peak, the mountaneer's achievement celebrated, the trophy photo of the hunted gemsbock; a job well done. A real hero operates in silence and needs no applause or likes.

Need v Want

This is not a woman who has never known the joys of sex speaking. Only, this is a woman about to turn 52, with no childbearing possibilities left, and no libido whatsoever. I have never had a sexual appetite by nature, and grew up amidst intellectuals who attach no value to sex outside its natural parameters. It happens when it happens. It is neither necessary or desired beyond those parameters (largely dictated by hormones and other anabolic processes wishing to restore the catabolic ones of mental exertion).

Indeed, I would like to think I am speaking as a representative of Eve, that ribby woman (to not call her lippy) who came to liberate the Adam Cadmon in all of us. For me sexuality has to evolve away from its covalent function of reproduction (which will work on a need-to-mate basis and is ruled by hormones and eventually habit) and start to settle into a mystery-centre of it's own making.

Only where two I's can meet ought there to be the thought of sex. It is then the ability to connect two spirits into an indellible whole, if even only for eleven minutes. Many whole-made, heart-felt, Enabling Moments together build up a more peaceful place. Peace within equals peace without. Sexual frustration is a call for the heart to grow much fonder. Sexual desire is a yearning to meet with the divine within. Sexual satisfaction is the clue that there is more to life than what life wants from you.

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Photo credits:

• Top by Shirly Niv Marton, “The Showdown”
• For the sake of illustrating how we come from Source, I rotated and cropped Hayden Scott’s spectacular photo of a bonfire to be found on Unsplash