Clutching purse, recyclable bag and keys in hand, I stumble down the steps to the car, feeling sluggish and clumsy, bound to the earth with manacles of need and demand. The night catches me suddenly as I raise my eyes to the deep navy of the early morning sky. I let my head fall back, hair tumbling down in copper curls to the small of my back and drink in the vast night sky, stars twinkling and breathing hot interstellar breath in the pause between time. My eyes widen and drink in the vastness of a universe which wheels by with no thought or plan but simply is.
Sometimes when you stand in the vastness of the night sky with the cosmos wheeling about you and the dying light of stars spilling silver into eyes blinded by ritual and monotony, for a moment your soul opens and reaches into the collective gasp of life and drinks deep, quenching the need you had forgotten was there.
I have been living an inner world for some time now, entrenched, hidden, buttressed against the buffeting of want and need and demand. I crouch, pulled tight against the cacophony of life and watch with wary eyes the ebb and flow of damaged psyches.
My musings on spirituality and sexuality have in many ways provided some fodder for thought these past several months as I have retrenched and reassessed a number of rather damaged segments of a psyche which has been buffeted and damaged (and in some cases, destroyed) by the inevitable erosion of trust and its subsequent effect on desire.
To get back to the original question which provoked this drivel, What (if any) is the higher purpose of my specific set of sexual desires at this point in my life?, I would first have to clarify that in some cases, ‘sexual desires’ could mean “lack thereof’ – or to be more accurate, a deliberate withholding and suppression of same. I have only recently come to the conclusion that a deliberate suppression of sexual desire can provide a rich opportunity to concentrate on other aspects of the mind/body experience, as an intense sexual drive can often confuse and complicate the emotional equilibrium, and obfuscate the true nature of other needs and wants.
One of the positive aspects I have surprisingly and unexpectedly discovered is that control can mean strength, it can metamorphose from a negativity (i.e. suppression in reaction to an untenable situation) to positivity (suppression as a conscious choice, a position of inner fortitude).
I cannot discuss sexual desire without some discussion of my relationship – not intimate details because I can only speak from my own perspective and feel passionately that no one has the right to reveal or betray another’s confidences – but so inevitably is the history of my sexual desire entwined with his, I cannot untangle the skeins of need, want, desire and love, without SOME glimpse into the intricacy of a 35 year relationship.
I keep returning to Elizavetta’s http://www.vespertine-erotica.com/2008/02/29/higher-love-part-two/ and find in her erudite words more insight each time. What resonated today as I mused on her words, was her comment “And the whole idea of men and their life-long life-giving sperm actually being valuable and desired in the process of a woman’s re-creation! Wow, this is certainly not a very currently hot topic. And how amazingly validating for men!” … made me think.
As amusing as it sounds, sperm- his in particular – has been a thread of validity in my life – a defining, conscious, physical manifestation of need and want and desire. As I travel into the past, I remember those passionate discussions with girlfriends about swallowing or not swallowing …. amusing now in hindsight but a huge issue for discussion at 16 – and I was in almost every way a virgin – in body, in mind, in experience and in terms of anticipation.
I remember those early days and the feel and taste of him, the throbbing need of him in my mouth, stretched wide, hair tumbling around his groin, the sound of his breath, harsh and fast and the thrilling, frightening skittering of my mind, removed at this point from the wet need of my own body, caught in the knowledge of the now and it was going to happen and wanting it… calming as my inexperienced lips salved and suckled and wanted and needed and then the hot jetting reality of his libation as my throat convulsively swallowed and I remember the hot thrilling rightness of it, the salty tang, not horrible as imagined and anticipated, not terrible as dreaded and agonized over, but sweet, hot, delicious as it overflowed and dribbled down the corners of my lips and the absolute joy I felt as the hot throbbing muscle emptied his want into my grateful throat ….
And until the past several months that worship at his groin has been a defining fulcrum of our lives together – a way that we reaffirmed our spiritual connection, a path to intimacy even when the fractured reality of our complicated relationship seemed tenuous and fragile.
Truly, it was as Elizavetta said Of course, a woman, at any stage in her life is responsible for her own actions and choices to make her life into what she wants it to be, as in every person. But this idea that two people are actually co-creators of each other as they age is just so beautiful to me!
Because truly he and I are “co-creators” of each other. More than that, in some ways it is as if the years of ingestion of the essence of his need has somehow created in my very skin the reality of his want, as if, like Cronus, our union has yielded newborns, yet to avoid the consequences of those newborns’ own will and desires challenging our own, we have swallowed them whole, not to kill but preserved alive in the warmth of our bellies… out of sight and mind but very much there.
And now, our newborns have escaped and over the past several years have conspired to exert their revenge against our refusal to face the reality of their individual freedoms and thoughts.
more to come