Sacred Self Pleasuring

Once again in what has become a weekly habit of Practice, I trudge around my beautiful home struggling with guilt over taking time for Sex Practice. There is so much else of much import to do, or so it seems. It is the same struggle that I face most mornings when I take the time for Zen sitting practice, or even my beloved hiking. I struggle like so many with finding time for my self-development.

Why do I resist this pleasure? For the same reason that so many others resist it, I suppose. How many marriages are beset by the lack of interest in sexual activity, even amongst those that report overall marital satisfaction? I believe we live in a sex negative culture.

I resist the pleasure of sex because like any other pleasure I must invest myself, and make myself vulnerable if I am to enjoy its “highest” gifts. This pleasure itself has a frightening intensity with peaks and valleys daunting to a mind and body in need of rest, and not in the best of shape.

We work all year long for the pleasure of “no-work”, for a few days or weeks “off”. Sacred Sex requires no less discipline.

What pulls me through my resistance is a belief that what I am about to do is Good. I will be giving myself a time that I have come to know as purifying, infusing me with a glow that comes from the depths of my soul, and beckons with the reward of pleasures yet to come. The kinetic memory stirs me as I anticipate floating on waves of sexual bliss. If I can be patience and disciplined the rewards are awesome.

Setting the stage, preparing for this ritual takes time and energy itself, and of course attending to what Betty Dodson calls the “little puddle”, the effluvia of solo male sexual activity. I envy women their, “no fuse, no mess” solo sexuality.

The reasons for this gender difference goes to the heart of sex, and to one of my favorite fantasies. The heart of sex is that a woman’s orgasmic capacity is in no way connected to reproduction. The Source of Life made sure that man would want to give up his seed, by tying reproduction to ejaculation, provided strong clues as to where to put it, and gave one of life’s best pleasures as reward. We can thank the powers that be for that!

The potential, reality and freedom of women’s sex is fascinating to me, and gives rise to many projective fantasies. One of my favorites is a woman having an orgasm, secretively, in public places with no one knowing, perhaps across the aisle from me on a plane on a long flight to Hong Kong, a la Emmanuelle. Or at least this is what I fantasize I would do if I were female.

I am not sure if real women have solo sex in public places, in fact I imagine few if any would do this. I was raised in a Victorian culture in which good women do not have sex in public places, even secretively. And true to form it is hard for me to imagine the women I know doing such a thing. And, what is more interesting is that I do not really care if they do or not. What excites me is their sexual freedom. Once on a plane to Europe, a good woman by any measure, talked of former lovers and secretive sex in public places with him. I never did figure out whether it was a confession or an invitation. I just listened and we went our separate ways.

In fact I imagine that most women would judge me negatively for even having these kinds of thoughts, and dismiss me as “typically male.” What may get missed in their judgment is that I delight in the sex of woman, and my awe of the power of female sex is hard to describe. I think most men (sexual orientation is not relevant in this matter) are equally transfixed, otherwise they would not spend so much time and money accessing, and working so hard to repress women, all at the same time.

These were the kind of thoughts running through my mind before I was able to settle into Practice. Today, I was especially rewarded: a gift was given. It is important to remember that in spiritual practice one does not “earn” what is given, and to remember what the Guru says, “You have the right to practice, but no right to its rewards”.

I choose to set the length of time of Practice today not by the clock, which is my standard method, but rather by my ability to observe my breath, muscle tension, state of mind, practice the disciplines of deep relaxation; and maintain a deep relaxation through orgasm. This was the plan.

Following standard Practice, I allowed my sex energy to build slowly and walked slowly to edge of the point of no return, the “still-point”. I balanced along the rim of the Great Bowl of Bliss and remained in a deeper state of relaxation for a longer time than I had previously known. I became still inside, even as I watched and guided my bodily tension and breath.

The biggest obstacle was not judging or comparing what I was experiencing with what was past, but to be aware when my mind was wandering, to discern when I was experiencing some inhibitory anxiety; to give myself permission to go deeper into relaxation, and to let what I was experiencing, “happen”. What happened next is hard to describe except as the purifying power of bliss that can only be known.

I rode a ride that was a mix of riding a bucking bronco and being bathed in bliss, I orgasmed … not in the sense of having an orgasm, but of being orgasmed … my body moved involuntarily, riding wave after wave of bliss. Sometimes I experienced myself as floating on that which gives life to life and sometimes being tossed and bounced on an energy that is not of my making alone.

Even as I orgasmed, I remained in a state of deep relaxation, which allowed waves of energy to shoot from deep within the first chakra throughout my whole inner universe. There was depth and intensity that was far from my ordinary experience of orgasm. My body convulsed in rhythm with my breath, and I shuddered involuntary. My mind became a haze of color softly muted by a brilliant white light. My ordinary ego awareness receded into the background, allowing what needed to be center stage into awareness. I was conscious only of a pleasure that seemed from an unending Source.

 Toward the end of this orgasm I became aware that my penis was much more erect than normal at what would be the beginning of the refractory period. It felt more inspired than reasoned when I made a decision to catch another wave. I refocused on breath, movement, muscle tension, and brought myself, with some struggle, to an “ordinary” orgasm. 

Wonderfully exhausted I pondered whether I had just had another type of multi-orgasm.

If we deem our existence as good, then surely we must acknowledge the goodness of this pleasure.

And, oh my what a larger than normal puddle!

I long to share this pleasure with an embodied other, yet remain faithful to vows given to my beloved Luisa some 30 years ago.

 I am eager to share stories, knowledge and practice with others also on this path.