Mindfulness and mindlessness and sex
One of the pop zen concepts I have fastened onto is mindfulness. I have been thinking about how it relates to my sexuality.
I have trouble doing higher-level thinking while I'm having sex. It makes me feel torn and incomplete, and usually the sexuality and sexiness loses out. So that means I need clear warning and demarcation (usually known as foreplay) so I can divert resources from analysis and defense to sexuality and sensuality.
Then I can be mindful. When I'm having sex, I want to be aware of the heat and specific gravity of skin, of the slight intake of breath. I want to taste, to touch, to radiate, to scent, to loll, to sweat, to be aroused and erotic. I want to focus completely on the sensations we share and have apart. Because as long as we're having sex, we exist in a bubble of time and space. I want to be mindful of just you, in the plural or singular. I want to be mindful of your body, to evoke from it sensation and passion. I want to be mindful of my body, to let it slip the bounds of politeness and restraint, to tune it so that our breaths come together. I want to laugh with you. I do not need it to be completely serious. Usually, I want it to be fixed in time, with neither of us thinking of the past or the future, just the now, with each other. Just the here, just the now, just the rise and the flush of lust. Mindfulness, joy, passion, dedication, laughter, passion.
I find that for me, this unspoken attitude works equally well for marathon sessions and the 15 minutes before dinner guests arrive. Because in-person sex is a thing of the body, as of the mind. Like chores or meditation, it requires you to know where the ends of your fingers are, and then forget it in what you are doing. Mind might accentuate, as salt changes the character of a dish. But it is also about sensation and arousal and orgasm, and those are wired pretty deeply. Probably more deeply than speech or society.
I wish I could describe this better, how sex is part of life stolen from the flow of time, from our daily lives, and how it is yet a part of us, coded deep into us, the curled toes and the flush and the sweat and the shudders.
Yes, there is bad sex. Yes, there is good sex that shouldn't happen. Yes, there is forcible sex and unwanted sex. There is sex that we regret, that we don't enjoy, that we didn't really feel like. But that's not what this is about. This is about "achieving that togethercoloured instant." And it's about me, and how my sexual mind works.
I have trouble doing higher-level thinking while I'm having sex. It makes me feel torn and incomplete, and usually the sexuality and sexiness loses out. So that means I need clear warning and demarcation (usually known as foreplay) so I can divert resources from analysis and defense to sexuality and sensuality.
Then I can be mindful. When I'm having sex, I want to be aware of the heat and specific gravity of skin, of the slight intake of breath. I want to taste, to touch, to radiate, to scent, to loll, to sweat, to be aroused and erotic. I want to focus completely on the sensations we share and have apart. Because as long as we're having sex, we exist in a bubble of time and space. I want to be mindful of just you, in the plural or singular. I want to be mindful of your body, to evoke from it sensation and passion. I want to be mindful of my body, to let it slip the bounds of politeness and restraint, to tune it so that our breaths come together. I want to laugh with you. I do not need it to be completely serious. Usually, I want it to be fixed in time, with neither of us thinking of the past or the future, just the now, with each other. Just the here, just the now, just the rise and the flush of lust. Mindfulness, joy, passion, dedication, laughter, passion.
I find that for me, this unspoken attitude works equally well for marathon sessions and the 15 minutes before dinner guests arrive. Because in-person sex is a thing of the body, as of the mind. Like chores or meditation, it requires you to know where the ends of your fingers are, and then forget it in what you are doing. Mind might accentuate, as salt changes the character of a dish. But it is also about sensation and arousal and orgasm, and those are wired pretty deeply. Probably more deeply than speech or society.
I wish I could describe this better, how sex is part of life stolen from the flow of time, from our daily lives, and how it is yet a part of us, coded deep into us, the curled toes and the flush and the sweat and the shudders.
Yes, there is bad sex. Yes, there is good sex that shouldn't happen. Yes, there is forcible sex and unwanted sex. There is sex that we regret, that we don't enjoy, that we didn't really feel like. But that's not what this is about. This is about "achieving that togethercoloured instant." And it's about me, and how my sexual mind works.