Why I Avoid Sex: A Love Letter

Silence by Odilon Redon

To all my lovers, from this life and the many previous…

Dear Lover,

Thank you for taking the time to read this message. I understand it’s been difficult between us. I know you are wanting more of me and believe me, there is nothing more I’d love than to be able to offer you (and me!) the incredible sex you want anytime you want.

But I simply can’t.

Believe me, I try. Every time you reach for me, all I can hear is:

“Why you can’t a be a goddamned normal human being who fucks when she wants, cums when she wants and goes about her merry way?”

This I lament as you watch me collapse into a puddle of tears and snot once again—our sex hijacked by the alien demon baby that lives in my vagina.

OK. Maybe I’m being a little overdramatic.

That could be part of the problem.

I know the answers lie wrapped up, charred up, scarred up beneath the calcified strata of my orgasm; but as I listen closer, each layer has its own story to tell…

LAYER ONE: CONFUSION

If you asked me what I wanted from sex, I wouldn’t know where to begin. My people-pleasing reflex leaves me disconnected from the hunger in my heart.

Because really, who am I if I’m not making you happy? I don’t even exist. Cosmo says so.

Clinging to an identity wrapped in the dogma of “good little girls who only eat one scoop of ice cream,” I suffer in silence as I yield my voice, again and again, until silence becomes the norm.

Lost in a barrage of choices, I abdicate my power to another in the hopes of escaping the freedom-binding fear of making a decision.

What is sex? What is desire? How does my body work? Is it OK to feel these things? To want so much?

Maybe porn can teach me something? I remember the magazines hidden under the sink when I was 12. Later came fervent moans through green and red squiggles on late night TV. Now I can’t even check my email without getting spammed by a site promising me “lonely, horny girls who are looking just for me.” The porn world has left me feeling incompetent in every way. I will never be a) novel, b) a fantasy and c) ready to be fucked at the drop of a hat.

Which brings me to…

LAYER TWO: ANGER

Fuck you.

Fuck you for not wanting ME, but some trumped up, dolled up, cummed up, fucked up version of an automated sexbot.

Stop trying to prove your worth by conquering my pussy.

When did sex become finding the “10 Ways to Light Him On Fire” or the “15 Moves That Will Turn Her Pussy Into Jizz Pudding”? (Gross)

I avoid sex because penetration is so goddammed boring. I need more. So much more. More than I could possibly understand and yet I need you to figure it out and take me there. To more. To the heights of my mind. Fuck my mind and we could fuck forever.

I have discovered (to my polite, feminine chagrin) that I’m angry. Fucking angry. At the way the erotic has been reduced to this two-minute, frictioned frenzy factory.

But because of my confusion (see Layer One), it’s easier to just stay angry at you for not remembering to do that thing that I asked you to do two weeks ago (you remember the one—I shouldn’t have to remind you).

So no. I won’t fuck you. I won’t give you the satisfaction of my pleasure.

If I give an inch, you take my pride.

You’ll see me crumble and break, my vanity at stake, as each thrust, twang, tickle and tuck strips me of my beautiful hide and renders me defenseless to the

weight

of

my

own

desire.

And in that vulnerability I find myself deepening into…

LAYER THREE: TERROR

I have a not-so-secret fear: I am afraid of being thought of as frigid.

Ironic for a woman who spends her days writing, thinking and exploring the edges of her sexuality.

Or not. After all, the best disguise for insecurity is to dress it up in the robes of expertise.

But I have an even greater terror—that of not being frigid.

Who is this fierce feminine beast?

A woman so ravenous for life that she knows not how to hold all the conflicting and socially unacceptable pieces that are her. The whore tearing through her master’s flesh while wearing the virgin’s smile.

So grab the noose and tie it to the rafters: I would rather be dead inside than unleash the potency of my orgasm—I dare not face this uncaged warrior.

Avoiding sex is the same as avoiding life. It’s why I avoid going onstage. It’s why I pack my feelings into a dark corner. It's why I starved myself for seven years. It’s why it took me three fucking months to write these 1000 words.

Sex requires that we are vulnerable. We cannot hide from ourselves anymore and we cannot shirk our responsibility to this life in a comfortable wash of feigned ignorance.

As I resensestize my pussy, all my receptors come online and to feel everything, the beauty and the pain, is enough to make you want to die.

And yet, here I am again. Terrified. Of death. Of life. Of who I am. Of never knowing who I am.

So it isn’t that the magic is gone, my love—it’s that the potency of our combined forces is too frightening to imagine. So we hide. We play pretend. We get tired. We fall asleep until we forget that we were even hungry in the first place.

And I feel your resistance as much as I feel mine. In fact, I welcome it. It gives me an excuse to stay sleepy under the covers.

But please, dear lover, for the sake of your life and mine, don’t ever stop trying. Fight for our surrender. Know that under my creeping and crawling and cat-cat-caterwauling there is a woman who so painfully wants to escape—who is scratching, layer after layer, for her freedom—

 

And for the chance to re-remember that she is…

LAYER FOUR: LOVE

Love,

c

PS: I think we're on the right track.

If you nourished your sexual life with all the excitements and adventures which love injects into sensuality, you would be the most potent human being in the world. The source of sexual power is curiosity, passion. You are watching its little flame die of asphyxiation. Sex does not thrive on monotony. Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all of the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine. ~ Anaïs Nin

The Tragedy of Falling in Love

The tragic beauty of falling madly in love with every moment is that you must simultaneously grieve as each second passes. This is the trade-off for opening your heart wider to love: the heart must swell and break within it's own pulsing for you to be fully alive. 

This was my lesson at this year's Burning Man--specifically at the Temple of Grace. The willingness we have to feel even a single teardrop of the world's grief will determine our capacity to receive the world's blessings, which are always here, simply waiting to be acknowledged.

At one point, I saw the faces of the many men I have loved in my life and asked for their forgiveness where I lacked compassion. At another point, I sat before the altar, channeling the Divine Mother, and sang Ho'oponopono, while those around me prostrated in the most reverent and humble prayer. And still at another point, I clutched my Beloved Adam as we sobbed in each others' arms, both in gratitude for our life together and in sadness in its ephemeralness.

I am still learning how to walk with an open heart. I am still learning how to trust the erotic voice quivering within my soul. I am still learning how to be in continued connection within a community where, even after three years, I often feel like I don't quite fit. Please have patience with me as I stumble my way towards Grace.

Thank you. I love you. Please forgive me. I forgive you. Bless you. Bless you.

Download my interview on "How We Talk About Sex"

I am proud and honored to be featured on Eric Leviton's fabulous podcast, "How We Talk About Sex," released on 5/18/14. Download the interview from iTunes and listen in as I share some of the more personal details of my erotic and spiritual journey, as well as a discussion of my upcoming book, From 6 to 9 and Beyond: Widening the Lens of Feminine Eroticism.

Click here to download.

6 (Non-Linear) Steps to an Orgasmic Life. (Part Two)

View this article on Elephant Journal

In my previous article, I described a new definition of orgasm and talked about what it means to live an orgasmic life.

In this piece, we’ll dive deeper into the 6 (non-linear) steps to an orgasmic life.

Why non-linear? Great question.

First, orgasm (like life) isn’t linear. One minute we are up, the next we are down. Last week we went right, but this week we may be called left. One great success can turn into a massive failure and one embarrassing failure can morph into our greatest success. Through orgasm, we are cultivating a very dynamic and paradoxical way of seeing the world. To slap linear construct on top of that would limit our perspective of what’s possible.

Second, the first two steps are more like anchors that help us through each of the others. Anytime we feel our resolve getting shaken or the voices of fear overtake us, steps one and two are there to help us anchor into the present. Also, the steps themselves aren’t like climbing up a ladder, but more like walking in a spiral—the moment you find yourself at “the end,” you discover you are actually at a new beginning.

Finally, the steps themselves are simply guidelines for possible experience. The moment you step into Step 3, you may find yourself back to Step 1 or catapulted into Step 6. You may be experiencing Step 2 all the way though Steps 3-6. And this is by no means the complete and definitive list of how to live an orgasmic life. There’s lots of room forimprovisation and innovation. Ultimately these “steps” are about gathering tools and using them when the moment calls for it.

So, without further ado, I offer you 6 (Non-Linear) Steps to an Orgasmic Life.

1. Attention

This may be the most difficult for most of us, especially in an iPhone addicted, Facebook skimming, TV watching world—which is why it is so important to get this concept first before moving on. So much of our lives is spent obsessing over the past or trying to control the future. We look outside of ourselves to inform us about who we are rather than looking within. We are rarely here and now. We are worrying about how we look and what people will think. We hide from our power through any variety of subtle (and not so subtle) addictions.

Orgasm demands our full attention on the present so we can actually feel what’s here. Bringing your focus to the present, perhaps on your body, your breathing or some truth you want to speak, helps us connect directly to our desire, which is the mouthpiece of an orgasmic life.

2. Approval

Just as important as attention is the concept of approval. Approval is the ability to say ‘yes’ to what is happening in any moment and is the key to ‘turn-on’, i.e. the capacity for us to allow orgasm to flow freely through our bodies. Approval isn’t about being a pushover or a milquetoast. You can set a firm boundary of “No” and still be in approval of that which is happening, because you are a “Yes” to yourself and a “Yes to loving” to whomever you are speaking.

Approval is the radical acceptance of all that is happening as absolutely perfect. Approval is the willingness to let go of the struggle to “be right” and simply just “be.” Even in the midst of our pain, can we open up and say ‘yes’ to all that we are feeling? Can we approve of our anger? Our tendency to blame? Our judgments that things should be other than they are? Can we even be in approval of our disapproval?

On the flip side can we approve of our pleasure? Can we open ourselves to the divinity that we are? Can we approve of our power and desire and allow it to guide us, even when it means being vulnerable? In order for us to move in the direction of our desire, we must first be in approval of where we are.

3. Ask

Once we have our attention on the present and are in approval of it, desire naturally arises. So what do we do with it? We ask for what we want, of course. Desire is vocal and if we sit around just waiting for life to happen to us, chances are we aren’t going to gather a lot of steam. So often we resort to subtle manipulation and sideways tactics and blaming people for not being mind-readers, when all we have to do is ask. Asking for what we want is a HUGE risk. It means the possibility of rejection and ridicule and being told we aren’t “good enough” to have it. It also means taking responsibility for ourselves and placing a stake in the ground for our desire.

Oftentimes, we don’t even know the specifics of what we want. All we can do is ask for help. This is just as good a prayer as any. Surrender to that unknown (or known) desire. Ask with sincerity. Be willing to go on the ride, even though you have no idea how it’s all going to turn out. That’s part of the fun, right?

4. Activation

Activation is the spark that occurs between us and life. It’s the ignition of orgasm and the gracious reception of it. It’s the sweaty palms as you lean in for your first kiss. It’s the beating of your heart before you go onstage. It’s the quickening of your breath as you sign your first client. Simply put, it’s the moment your mind, body and soul click into place and we are in total acceptance of our lives.

Activation is a key moment and one that requires the help of attention and approval. Oftentimes, when the energy gets high and we let go, we lose our focus or start to struggle for solid ground. This is where faith comes in. The universe has got it handled. Just breathe, soften and open.

5. Allowance

Once the spark of orgasm starts to flame through our lives, we must resist the urge to contract out of fear or the belief that we are undeserving of this amount of energy, be it attention, money, pleasure, etc. Allowance is the capacity to open wider and receive more. In sex, we often rush to the climax to try to expel the energy out of our body as quickly as possible. We do this in life too. Perhaps we rush towards anger or victimization or binging or going on a shopping spree.

Allowance holds us in the truth that we are capable of feeling so much more and that if we simply ride the edge,unfathomable amounts of pleasure are possible. Be willing to ride that edge, rather than rush to climax (unless climax is what is authentically being expressed in the moment—then ride that all the way down to the bottom).

6. Acknowledgement

Acknowledgement is a skill that automatically flips any perspective from suffering to celebration. Acknowledgement is recognizing just how much the world is conspiring for our success. It’s gratitude in the face of tears. It’s the willingness to share your orgasm with humility and generosity. Acknowledgement fosters compassion through its ability to see how connected we are. My success is your success. My pain is your pain. My healing is your healing. It’s the ability to simply name what it happening and love it as an integral teacher on the journey.

So rather than complain, acknowledge the blessing of life. Give profound and unabashed thanks for the miracle that it took for you to be alive in this moment. From this place, we can truly be of service to humanity and give back from a place of joy and fullness, which is the ultimate gift of an orgasmic life.

6 (Non-Linear) Steps to an Orgasmic Life. (Part One)

View this article on Elephant Journal

I hear it all the time from my clients:

“My relationship is boring”
“My life is so blah”
“I’m stuck in a job that I hate”
“I eat/shop/fuck/diet to numb myself from my emotions”
“My sex life is non-existent”
“I’m afraid I’ll lose control”
“Everything feels so stagnant”
“I don’t know what I want”

Fortunately, I know what they want: orgasm.

Not necessarily sexual climax (though that can be quite a lot of fun), but a high-octane shot of The Orgasmic Life.

So what does all that mean?

Orgasm, as I define it, is that living, breathing life force that births every moment. It’s that energy wakes us up and reminds us how alive we are.

If you’ve ever practiced yoga, you may have heard the word prana. If you are into acupuncture, you may have heard the term chi. Both of these are good analogies for the kind of orgasm of which I speak.

When we think of orgasm in these terms, we realize that this force is accessible in any moment, not just in the bedroom. And when we learn to identify and work with this energy (and its partner, desire), we open the door to an Orgasmic Life.

An Orgasmic Life is a dynamic life.

Each moment is a fresh one. It’s a life full of wonder, passion, electricity, surrender, pleasure and aliveness.

While that may all sound amazing and exactly like what you want, an Orgasmic Life also requires risk, a willingness to change in any moment and trust in the unknown.

Our little reptilian, survival brains are wired at an early age to keep us safe. Don’t color on the walls, lest we make mommy mad (and lose her love). Don’t take center stage, lest we end up the object of public ridicule (and be ostracized). Don’t touch ourselves pleasurably, lest we be shamed (and labeled as “perverts”).

Or it could have been more sinister. To rebel against our conditioning may have resulted in some sort of physical, sexual or emotional abuse.

Thus we’ve grown up in a world that values security and linear thought: If I make straight A’s and go to college and get a stable job and make a lot of money, I will attract a member of the opposite sex and get married and have kids and be happy.

While this may be exactly the right way of life for someone, for many of us, it just doesn’t work that way. We have the intuition that there is more. More of life to see, experience and love. We get the sense that we’ve been settling for OK, rather than reaching for our potential. We’ve chosen a life of numbing the chronic pain that is trying to tell us something, rather than feel it all, learn from it and expand our pleasure threshold.

To be clear, an orgasmic life takes an infinite number of forms. It’s less about changing the external circumstances and more about your perception of those conditions. A vendor selling coconuts on the beach in India for 50 years may experience more orgasmic pleasure than a jet-setting, billionaire CEO.

It’s the how, rather than the what, that helps us tap into the orgasm already present and flowing in our lives.

In Part 2 of this article, I’ll list and explore the 6 (non-linear) steps to an orgasmic life.

Conversations about Leading in Truth: With Tanya Paluso and Friends

Check out this great discussion on "Leading in Truth" and what it means to be a leader today. Listen as Tanya Paluso and I, as well as a panel of female entrepreneurs, touch on topics ranging from integration, letting go, radical acceptance, abundance and more. PLUS! Find out just what the heck a "Pussy ATM" is ;)

Learn more about Tribal Truth here.

Meet our panelists:
Daphne Cohn: http://daphnecohn.com
Jordanna Eyre: http://www.youarewhole.com
Cory Michelle Johnson: http://corymichelle.us

69 Vlogs. 69 Days #60: Doing it "Right"

Are you caught up in "doing it right"?

69 Vlogs. 69 Days #43: My Biggest Tip for a Turned-On Life

My Biggest Tip for a Turned-On Life

 

69 Vlogs. 69 Days #42: Course Correction

Course Correction #69vlogs69days

I Got Married. Again.

I got married. Again.

Something I vowed I would never do. But vows are funny things, you know. Life is constantly in a state of flux. What we vow one day gets flipped upside down the next. We either stay firm within them, or we shift with the tide.

So when the unshakeable desire arose to love this man and commit to the unfolding partnership, I shifted too.

But when it came time for me to write my wedding vows, I found myself utterly stumped. Months went by. I thought the moment would magically arise and words would effortlessly overflow from my loving cup. Alas, I every time I tried to share what was in my heart, everything felt cheap and trite.

I reconsidered the whole notion of having vows. When I hear ‘in sickness and in health; til death do us part’, I think of fundamentalist, religious perspectives of the ‘proper’ roles of husbands and wives. Considering that I believe relationships can express themselves in a variety of ways, i.e. queer, poly and/or non-marriage based, this collection of antiquated aphorisms just weren’t my speed, nor did they inspire my writing.

Finally, in the shower, I had a flash in the form of a lyric from a medicine song that deeply binds me to my prayer.

I quickly wrapped a towel around me and dashed to my computer. Four lines squeezed out of me. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

The next day, our internet went down. We called the cable company. While my partner was testing the internet on my computer, he saw the beginning of my vows, which I had idiotically left open on my laptop.

I was back to zero. And this time, I felt even more hopeless. The crappy internet had destroyed my tiny shred of inspiration.

And that’s when I decided I would start as I always do: with the truth. I made the decision to just write what I was feeling in the moment. Every mental block and aggravation poured out of me.

And from this odd pile of brain vomit arose a simple truth: I was trying to vow in a way that wasn’t in integrity with who I was. I was looking for static promises that I knew would all set me up for failure.

Instead, what I discovered, was that this love was a moment to moment choice. How our relationship will look or what we will want in the future will naturally ebb and flow with the tides of our lives. But I can be certain that I will be a total ‘yes’ to whatever arises. And this ‘yes’, to everything—the blissful and the challenging—is the foundation of orgasmic marriage.

I share these words with you today in the hopes that they carry on the spirit of that prayer: to inspire and foster growth—for myself, my Beloved and everyone we meet.

In a moment when a writer most needs her muse

Words utterly fail me—

Or rather they disappoint—

They are but brief placeholders

To the magnitude of love inside.

I remember within the first weeks of dating you

(During our emotional disarmament)

When I laid down my vanity and spoke

The ominous desire:

“I want to know what it’s like to be utterly devoted to a man.”

And so…here we stand.

Me: a woman

Just trying to figure it out.

You: the answer

To my every prayer.

This relationship has felt like a series of choiceless choices.

I can say ‘Yes’

And watch the most incredible miracles unfold--

Or…I can say ‘Yes’

Because you and I would never choose anything less than magic.

I choose connection over ‘being right.’

I choose vulnerability over pride.

I choose support for our growth over insecurity of my own inadequacy.

I choose celebration over manipulation.

I choose ‘more life’ over stagnant insulation.

I choose gratitude over resentment.

I choose play over ‘winning the game.’

I choose service to Spirit over selfish adoration.

I choose interpersonal freedom over fear-laden codependency.

I choose a pauper’s truth over a king’s ransom of lies.

“Oh my Beloved, you are always in my heart”

And this is my only prayer:

May our love be the foundation of our lives,

And an inspiration to each other

And to every person we meet.

I honor—and devote—myself to you,

Adam Gordon.

My partner in this world—

And every place

Beyond understanding.

To Love a Woman (written 9/2009)

Venice Beach, CA

To Love a Woman

Her liquescent cries

Inundate the hollow night

And it is here

In the palm if my hand

That the earth’s story

Is born.

The lotus

The lily

The magnolia

Unfolding flowers

Whose nectars

Form the seas

My fingers

Tickle Her petals

My thumb

Discovers Her pearl

My mouth

Alights on Hers

And as the sloop slips under,

Descending the

Ocean of our Love,

Sweet, salty waves

Rock us

To death

Who knew that

Unexplored reefs

(With the potent power

Of floral coral)

Could produce

Such radiant life?

The Nobility of Sex, a.k.a. 7 Non-Sexual Tips (Plus 1 Video!) to Spice Up Your Sex Life

Photo by Lianne Viau

READ THIS ARTICLE ON ELEPHANTJOURNAL.COM

“The erotic has often been misnamed by men and used against women. It has been made into the confused, the trivial, the psychotic, and plasticized sensation. For this reason, we have turned away from the exploration and consideration of the erotic as a source of power and information, confusing it with the pornographic. But pornography is a direct denial of the power of the erotic, for it represents the suppression of true feeling. Pornography emphasizes sensation without feeling.” ~ Audre Lorde

Yup. You asked for it (even if you won’t admit it). Another article on everyone’s favorite topic: SEX!

(End of snarky intro)

I’ve noticed a trend on elephantjournal.com these past few months of authors and readers decrying the popularity of more ‘salacious’ and‘fluffy’ content and ruing the fact that ‘deeper’ and ‘more meaningful’ pieces often get overlooked. I have also seen a number of people complain that all this talkof sex is empty if you don’t also mention love.

The argument goes that all you have to do is put up a picture of a scantily-clad woman, have a title promoting the ‘3 Easy Steps to Being a Mega Sex-Machine’ and bandy about the words cock and pussy and BAM! Instant ele hit.

Now look: as a sexuality writer, I will be the first one to roll my eyes at some of the schlock that gets published. All the tips and tricks to snag a husband, make her come like a volcano or lose weight so you aren’t a flabby troll who can’t even get laid by a blind man can actually be damaging, prey upon our cultural insecurity and push our sex back into the shadowy recesses of shame.

However, when my work (and the work of my very talented ele peers) are linked to these complaints, I have to speak up. To question the journalistic validity of an article simply because there’s a ‘helpful’ list or it focuses on sex or there’s only a video and little writing is not only blatantly arrogant—it’s downright insulting.

I’m truly sorry that every single piece on elephantjournal doesn’t get the kind of attention it deserves. I have read and re-posted some gorgeous pieces that unfortunately got lost in the electronic fray. However, that is the nature of being an artist. We may create many, many pieces, but only one becomes a Guernica or a Mona Lisa.

In my opinion, I don’t think people are tired of hearing or talking about sex. In fact, I think we are actually starving for frank, in-depth conversations about sex. I think what people are tired of is SEX-SATIONALISM—that is to say, the titillating ‘tee hee hee’ that sits on top of our own sexual shame, hunger and insecurity. We get a ‘hit’ when we Youtube search for various ‘wardrobe malfunctions’ and pop-star lesbian makeouts (and no thank you, I do not need to see a busty woman when purchasing an automobile or deodorant). We become sex-crack junkies, opting for the quick fix in the syringe rather than making the more vulnerable choice of asking directly for the sex we want.

Also, many people tired of SEX-SEXSATIONALISM are erroneously suggesting that sex is meaningless unless there is love attached. The assumption is that love is greater than sex and that sex simply for the pleasure of sex is somehow vacant.

Are you kidding me?

First, sex without love simply doesn’t exist. Love is everything. It’s in everything we do. We are love. It is impossible to escape it, whether you are fucking, eating, pooping, walking, crying or writing. Our capacity to allow ourselves to feel it may fluctuate, but the truth of the matter is that love is the ineludible breath of orgasm. Even when we feel dead and disconnected from the world, love is there—we are often too proud to accept it, but it waits gracefully and patiently for us to acknowledge it.

Second, it is my belief that we are confusing romance with love and sex. We have this belief that sex is only OK as long as we do it ‘tantrically’ with someone with whom we are ‘in love’ and to whom we plan on making a lifelong, monogamous commitment. Balderdash. Some of my deepest and most transformative life experiences were one-night stands, bathroom sex and sex with people who were already in committed relationships—all of which were saturated in love. 

I actually think romance and other ‘rule-based’ excuses for sex are poisoning our ability to fully open. They sit on top of our pleasure, like an angry schoolmarm, punishing us for enjoying anything that deviates from a prescribed code of social respectability. To connect to our sexual authenticity, we need to strip sex down to its barest essentials: you, your partner and the sensation at the point of connection. That’s it. I am not tossing off sex with a committed partner. I give thanks every day for the gift of my Beloved. But I had to peel off the layers of what I thought my sex and love should look like in order to recognize and receive him.

Third, having sex simply because it feels good is not only OK—it’s the most noble reason of all. We have somehow adopted the myth that pleasure equals "lack of self-control" and that denial equals "being a good person." Perhaps this is a throwback to the "martyrdom makes you a saint" dogma espoused by many popular religions. However, in my mind, nothing is more noble, innocent and pure than surrendering to the pleasure of our bodies. The pleasure we feel of a soft cat's fur under our fingertips. The pleasure we feel of a ripe fig bursting between our teeth. The pleasure we feel of warm sun against cool skin.

And yes, the pleasure of sex. The sparks of electricity that ripple across the small of my back when my lover licks my ear. The glow in my heart when I connect intimately with another person. The curious bliss of deepening relationship. The playful thrill of adventure. The stirring of the soul in creating new life.

I neither trust nor enjoy sex if I or my partners have other agendas—romantic or otherwise. If you are having sex to impress someone, make your ego feel good, negotiate a transaction (i.e. I will eat you out if you suck my cock), disassociate from life, snag a relationship or anything other than surrendering to the pleasure found in our exquisite and miraculous bodies, then it’s not an act of love, but manipulation.

Now, I cannot help but notice that a great majority of our sex writers at elephantjournal are female and that most (if not all) of those who are ‘sick of sex’ and wanting more ‘spiritually enlightening articles’ are male. This, to me, is an indicator of the taboo surrounding female sexuality and the continuous sexism that blankets the more feminine spiritual paths.

 Audre Lorde says:

“The erotic is a resource within each of us that lies in a deeply female and spiritual plane, firmly rooted in the power of our unexpressed or unrecognized feeling. In order to perpetuate itself, every oppression must corrupt or distort those various sources of power within the culture of the oppressed that can provide energy for change. For women, this has meant a suppression of the erotic as a considered source of power and information within our lives.”

The world of sex is feminine: dark, uncertain, combustible, frightening. It is a spiritual path that pulls us down into the mud of humanity before we can push off the ground into the more celestial (and masculine) realms of consciousness. So when I see my fellow sister-authors (and brothers as well) gather the courage to share their erotic opening with the world (yes, that includes E.L. James, regardless of your opinion of 50 Shades), I want to scream from the rooftops “Write on! Your expression is my inspiration! Your voice is my healing!”

We each have our niche—that thing that calls forth from us our greatest power. Yours may be vipassana. Someone else’s may be crocheting. Mine is sex and orgasm. Perhaps if I wrote about cookie baking or child rearing, you might be able to categorize me in a socially acceptable binder full of women.

I genuinely pay tribute to the vibrant community elephantjournal fosters and the myriad of voices that come out to play. Questioning and challenging are important and encouraged—it spurs personal and social creativity. But writing off other people’s work as cheap or ‘simply trying to make a name for themselves’ is simply disrespectful.

So. For those of you who are tired of reading about sex (but not really) and need a list and a video to satiate your ele appetite, I humbly offer you 7 Non-Sexual Tips (Plus 1 Video!) to Spice Up Your Sex Life:

1. Chew your food slowly. Savor the experience. Use all five senses and allow the flavor to slide over your body.

      2. Express gratitude. When you come from fullness and approval, it expands your capacity to receive.

      3. Do something loving for yourself every day. If you know how to love yourself, you will take nothing less from anyone else. 

      4. Practice service. When you recognize your abundance and allow it to spill over, your joy transforms you into the most attractive person in the room. 

      5. Break the rules. Violate the ‘No’s’ and ‘Can’ts’ in your life and you will be bold enough to do it in the bedroom. 

      6. Surround yourself with beauty. When you know what gives you pleasure, you can recognize it and ask for it.  

      7. Laugh. It takes the pressure off to perform and connects you to the crooked perfection of life.

PLUS! Obligatory humorous sex video!

The Last Time: An Erotic Lesson in Love

Photo by Jocelyn Marquis

Written October 2011

He starts by softly touching my pussy—whole hand, the hood still covering my clit. It’s more like a massage. A gentle pressing in. One hand on the left nipple, the other on the clit. He has me hike my left knee up high. It exposes me. Light caresses on my coarse hairs along the edge with the backs of his fingers.

He stops. Tells me to turn onto my belly. I obey. He puts his fingers into my shoulders and squeezes. Tender. Giving permission to all those pockets of unexpressed joy, anger, grief.

He has me turn on my side. I am facing him now. My left leg over his head, my right pressed tightly against him. He slides his fingers inside me. Gentle pulses in my body. A simultaneous relaxing and priming. His thumb occasionally grazes my clit. Red hot velcro. Each stroke he makes, his body is there to brace me. Hold me. Warm. Open. Slick walls.

Then he has me lie on my back. His fingers deep inside, he draws me forth. I am contracting in deep rhythm to my heartbeat, and yet there is still a small sweetness within the pulse. He strokes up. I feel a fast rush of heat over my left foot and calf—it’s almost too hot to bear. I want to cry. So I breathe. And surrender another layer. I want to feel all of this.

And the burning escapes out my feet and we float back down into a grey, clear pool. Hovering. His fingers inside me press upward, while his other hand continues to stroke my clit. I keep relaxing and chanting the mantra, “There is nothing to fear.”

I sink back into my body, feeling something deep within wanting to emerge. A round, bulbous heat—a burning pleasure—snowballs as it moves from my belly to my clit. I keep relaxing. I envision the bulb moving out, but without force. The heat has now opened into a canyon of potential.

“What if you just say yes,” I think to myself, “and trust that you are held.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

I feel the fog-tide rolling over my feet. Creeping in over my surrendered-ness. The cool mist-water makes its way up my feet, thighs, pussy, belly, arms, chest, head. My whole body is now bathed in orgasm. There is no thrashing around; just a quiet sparkle. I exhale and more mist-water rolls over us. Suspended in timelessness.

And then the tide recedes back to the reservoir at my feet. I have forgotten myself. The connection between us is viscerally human—and expands beyond cosmic comprehension.

It’s at this moment that I realize how very lonely I have been. I miss God. I miss having the constant companion of fullness and depth inhabiting my body.

I begin to shake and cry. “Oh God,” I cry out, “I miss God.”

A wave of gratitude grips my throat and I keen an ancient sound—a sound that is twisted with both agony and wonder. We touched love. Not ephemeral romance, that crunches and pounces and cramps. But love. Pure. Rich. Golden. Love.

I cry. And cry. His fingers inside me push up and forward. Releasing. He then pulls them out and presses his palm firmly on my pussy. Solid. Ground. I am held throughout the never-ending melting.

A bit embarrassed by my emotional nakedness, I murmur once more, “I miss God.” I cry a bit more. And then a bubble rises in my throat and I realize what really needs to be said. The hardest words of all. But the desire is so powerful that to hold it back would be like a slow, rotting death.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

Something sweet melts in his eyes. I cry some more.

I can’t help noticing the peachy-salmon tones of his shirt. “Peach and purple look good on him,” I think. 

“I like that color on you,” I finally gasp out. We laugh.

The peak slips away and we simply hold on to one another. A raw, humble warmth of orgasm hums between us. I am deeply immersed. Present. There is nothing else to do but feel. Just me…and the man who taught me how to love.