I am seeking out golden nuggets of the bliss and expansion that is achieved through intimacy and sexual connection. I have felt it, shared it, cultivated and co-created this, countless times with countless lovers. I want to find it also outside of myself, reflections of love and connection scattered throughout all time (history) and space (culture). I knew this journey would be an undertaking. I am not sure if my heart was truly prepared for this.
My desire to coalesce my experiences with the tales of others comes from a deep belief that there is a remembering taking place. A recollection through experience, that love is good, pleasure is our birthright, and connecting physically, emotionally and spiritually with others offers powerful healing for our collective suffering.
But my first attempts at searching for blessings in the shadows has me feeling darkness, grief, despair, fear. I know it takes courage to walk this path, judgement lurks in every dark corner. But it’s not only judgement; it is a real and present danger that pervades in most places in the world. It reminds me how privileged I am. There is nowhere else on earth I could be except here, in this neighbourhood, in this epoch, among these friends, in this political climate, where I could even fantasize about a free and open, empowered and safe human sensual experience. And even here, I choose anonymity. I am a small voice saying ‘hey wait everyone, there is another way and it’s so beautiful!’, but it is spoken in whispers behind a vail in cyberspace.
My first glimpses into history has me shutting down from fear, shock, abhorrence. I dare not describe these atrocities, these gross misunderstandings of the world, they have been given enough weight and attention as to twist our reality into one of loneliness, separation, and agony. I am here to transform this in myself, and hopefully this unto others. But right now I need to acknowledge what is coming up for me. I feel shame for being born into this body. I feel fear because I know why that shame exists. And here I am, doing it anyway. It may be a whisper, and yes I am hiding behind this curtain. But I am here, and my voice is real.