A Note on Car Masturbating:

Yes, of course it can be dangerous.  It can also be employed as a stimulating activity during long, late night drives when a person may otherwise be at risk of falling asleep at the wheel.  You don't need to come to orgasm.  The energy can be raised and celebrated without the inebriation of climax.  I like to blast my favorite music, reach my hand down and yell and sing and scream and laugh.  I ride with the wind blowing in my face and the divine wisdom of my ipod shuffle wrapping me in song.  This is a wonderful venue for auto-erotic exploration, especially for a homeless vagabond such as myself.

Let's Have More Sex! (A Semi-Political Manifesto)

I sit here and listen to Obama address the United Nations.  "Peace is more than just the absence of war." 

For a decade I have been obsessing about my body.  I have been creating meaning outside myself to such a degree, that I limit the broad possibilities of experience available to me.  The world is my oyster and, yet I create conditions for my own enjoyment of it.  I want to feel the sweetness of human connection and I tell myself I am undeserving of that pleasure unless I look a certain way, unless I have some level of fame proving my value, unless… 

I arrived in North Carolina yesterday, here to visit wonderful friends.  They live near the beach and one of the first things I did upon arriving was to swim in the ocean.  I skipped down to the warm water at sunset.  Despite my insecurities, I let my arms reach for the sky and flipped along the smooth sand.  What a delight, this physical form.  As much as I resist self love and acceptance, it is moments like this that remind me how lucky I am to exist in a body.  

The North Carolina shoreline is speckled with people who clearly disapprove of my blatant display of physical sovereignty.  They mirror my own self judgement and looking into their puckered faces, I am grateful for their reflection of the crotchety bigots in me.  By extending a hand, a wave and a loving smile, I choose to accept them rather than let them dictate my actions.  I glimpse freedom.

This is all very good and philosophical, but it is in the application of this experience that really intrigues me.  Last night I shared a brilliant conversation with my hosts.  We talked mostly about sex.  The both of them, roughly 30 years my senior, expressed regrets at having not explored the cornucopia of sexual experience available to them when they were young (like me).

Now, I do not think that their own sexual exploits need be finished because of the limitations of age, but I did hear the sage advice.  Those voices inside me forever nagging me about my perceived faults, prevent me from creating the experiences I want. 

I have had some amazing sexual experiences.  And I want more.  The transcendence of these derogatory voices removes the barricade from the extensive buffet of sexual enjoyment.  Sex is just one example of experiences we limit, but it is an important one because it is such a potential celebration of our bodies.  But moving beyond judgment requires one more step.  Now that we have access to the feast, we have to start somewhere.  We must have the courage to try new things, discover what we like and what we don't (without judging the latter). 

Driving along highway 20, I unbuckle my belt and jeans, reach a hand down my pants and turn up Tom Waits.  Caressing my pussy, moving in circular motions along the sensitive jewel, I shudder and giggle.  I am merry playing with myself, laying my fingers along the soft edges of my lower lips and reaching a happy finger inside.  I want more of this.  Pure pleasure.

Obama says again, "Peace is not more than just the absence of war.  True peace depends on creating the opportunites that make life worth living."

Thoughts On Attention

Losing myself in a musical composition, admiring the intricacies of  a flower or the insect's wings as it crawls around the petals, surrendering to the wash of an orgasm or walking into a room rich with the decadent scent of garlic sauteed in butter and olive oil - these magical experiences demand attention - and, until recently, I always found myself too distracted to remain present with them for longer than a moment. 

Perhaps it is the part of me aware of the transitory nature of such moments, worried that whatever intense beauty has called my attention is temporary and may transform into something less…

There is a greate Hafíz poem called "Why Aren't We All Screaming Drunks?"

Why Aren’t We All Screaming Drunks?

The sun once glimpsed God’s true nature
And has never been the same.

Thus that radiant sphere


Constantly pours its energy


Upon this earth


As does He from behind


The veil.
With a wonderful God like that


Why isn’t everyone a screaming drunk?
Hafiz’s guess is this:
Any thought that you are better or less


Than another man
Quickly
Breaks the wine


Glass.

The same is true for experience.  There is no hierarchy of experience - just varying levels of comfort, pain, boredome, ecstasy, etc. and subsequent attention.  Curiosity is the medicine for judgement.  By practing the art of attention, I become aware of the richness too often buried beneath designations of positive and negative.  Feeling my body, noticing my experience, is like hugging a lonely child, like falling in love with everything I judge to be wrong with me.  By paying attention, I give myself the gift of acceptance.  Whatever is there (and often it is the painful sensations that wait at the surface), becomes a welcome guest in the home of my experience.  I kiss it and serve it tea (or wine). 


It has been my fortune to discover that this attention to the uncomfortable makes it easier to remain longer with those easier, pleasure-filled experiences as well.  In my novice understanding of quantum physics, the universe responds when it is observed.  As walking beacons of universal energy, why would it be any different for us?  Suddenly that red sign I have been avoiding with the help of my clever addictions, changes color when I look at it directly and without criticism.  And the glowing orb of pleasure, until recently too bright to address head on, is sustainably visible without the weight of judgement.

What does that mean?  Scott mentioned in his last email my having realized that the group sessions are an act of giving as well as getting.  Giving attention to ourselves, doing it together, we dissolve the boundaries separating "good" from "bad" and make a party of our suffering. We get to celebrate in the spirit of a Symposium - we get to be screaming drunks.


(inspired by Scott MacInnis' brilliant work and healing practice)

Things to do in Austin when it's hot:

1.  Rent a kayak and adventure in Lady Bird Lake:

    A homeless man nearby has been repeating a sinister incantation with the confidence of one unburdened by social etiquette.  I admire his freedom as I begin to paddle back toward the kayak rental station.  The peaceful departure is tickled with the appearance of a giant turtle.  Just as I'm about to announce the happy reptile, my chanting friend starts screaming great obscenities at the calm river.  "Look, a turtle!" I say to my kayak buddy.
    I'm pointing behind me now as I have passed the swimming creature, and it happens to be in the same direction as the perturbed man.  I'm excited about the wildlife, ignoring the man's lewd yells, now accompanied with awesome physical thrusts.  "Look! A turtle. It's huge!"  A group of cheerful tramps across the river mistake my gestures. 
"Don't pay attention to him Missy.  Just keep paddling.  He'll quiet down."
"No, but the turtle!  It's so big."  I indicate the size.
"That's just what he wants you to do.  Don't give him any money and don't feed him.  He's crazy."
    Yes, I know that. 
    There is also an awesome rope swing, but I hesitate to point it out.

2.  Look at hipsters and other folks in an air-conditioned coffeehouse:

    The girl with a gold headband has created a mushroom cap of hair cutely bunched from the back.  It is just messy enough so that I know she isn't overly attentive to her appearance - sloppy with intention.  She asks for a knife like this: "Can I grab a knife?"  I try to disguise my irritation by feining objective observation, but it is too much fun to judge her and so here I am doing it… there are so many people to make fun of in my mind.  And I realize all the time that I am the only one I really judge.  All of these people walking around outside me, mirroring my own insecurities and arrogance.  The woman directly in front of me has mayonnaise on her face and I like her for it.  What does that say about me?  Am I cool?  Do I fit in?  As long as I don't fit in too much - stand out just enough to be noticed and yet appear put together without seeming like I care so much.  Like the headband girl.  Maybe I should get a tatoo…

3.  Give your friend a blowjob:

    We snuggle in bed and I feel his physical question:  May I touch you?  Kiss you?  My body likes being held like that, but I won't turn to him.  We part.  I don't know why I reject the advance, so I reach down into my underpants and ask my pussy.  She is wet.  I decide to listen to her and turn to my companion, "I want to be intimate with you, but I am afraid."  The vulnerable admission creates instant connection.  He smiles at me and reminds me we have known each other for a long time.  It will be okay. 
    I kiss him and he me - mouth and arms and chest.  He asks to look at me and I remove my (moonlight) nightgown.  He tells me I am beautiful.  I notice the strength of his body.  Mine responds with the heated rise and fall of my breath.  We smell and taste one another.  After the hot exploration I ask him if it is okay just to lie there together for the rest of the evening.  The assurance in his voice is so attractive I almost take back the request.  I recognize that this man is safe.  He does not want anything from me, nor does he seek to possess me...he is not a hunter, but a joyful celebrant of my character.  He is my friend.
    The morning blowjob is as much a gift for me as (I hope) it is for him.  It feels so good to give pleasure.  The energy of his enjoyment, the subtle tensions that arise as I go down on him, excite me.  I say his name in my head and pour love into the action.  I don't feel attached nor do I feel an expectation from him, just the pleasure of our lovely bodies.  It is playful and easy.  His orgasm sends a surge of delight down my spine.