I haven't been on a date, or been part of a couple, in almost three years.
I just lost interest. And apparently, so have the menfolk.
I hear that this happens to women over 40. Especially with women who don't really do the makeup and hair and cute clothing thing, and whose hindquarters, like the universe, have continued to spread outward.
The pickings are slimmer than 10 years ago. There don't seem to be many guys I'd even want to be with, if I wanted to be with someone.
But I don't. Once every couple of months I'll get a flutter, you know the kind, but it fizzles out as I realize: what in the world would I do with him? Charm him with my knowledge that he isn't real? Seduce him with my nihilistic chatter and refusal to tell any of my stories or show any interest in his?
But the pulse of the universe, of male and female polarity continue to push their way through. At night, when I'm asleep. And I wake up the morning and go: whoa . . . dang . . .
They are so real, these men who visit me in the land behind my eyelids. It's the same feelings of love, of nervousness, of energy coursing through nerve endings, lighting up heart and mind and several reproductive organs. There are long conversations, the ones that go right to the heart of the main issues that drive us to link bodies and chakras with another human being. And then morning comes, and they dissolve in the crackling vibration that is the world.
The only other place the energy arises is during massage. Because of the shamanic work I do, I get offers for barters pretty regularly, a lot of them for massages, which if the person has a Yes vibration, I agree to. And if it's a male massage therapist, something always happens about ten minutes in: the energy starts running.
Sex was always about surrender for me. My surrender. Their surrender. To something bigger, deeper, sweeter, fiercer than both of us. Something that was only created in the presence of Us. Something that mind, thought, and technique rendered impassable. But something, that if surrendered to, healed all of the wounds the world caused in us, filled bodies and hearts, cells and consciousness with a luscious liquidity that was like energetic honey flowing in me, and him, and the being that was us.
Massage, or any healing work really, is the same thing. One being opening their heart, their energies, making love to another being, participating, facilitating their healing, hooking up all the nodes along the circuitry so that the universe can sing Yes . . . Yes . . . Yes. . . in the manner it would really like to 24-7, if only we'd just let it do It's Thing.
During massage, it's never anything I plan, or consciously summon. There isn't ever sexual contact, nothing to do with the regular actions we associate with sex. Just the energy. Running. The energy that simply kicks in when male and female polarity connects, and we get out of the current's way.
It's nothing that gets spoken about. Sometimes I notice that a few moments after the current kicks in, the therapist will hesitate, not sure what to do, or maybe not sure what is happening. The really good therapists let go, simply surrender to the deepening. Technique shifts into something more organic. Repetitious gives way to rhythm. And when the massage is over, we're both smiling, laughing, and I know that he feels a lot better, too, in his heart, and in his own skin.
Maybe I'm wrong, but I think that all of the evils in this world can be traced back to a lack of good nookie. When it's done right, in the spirit of the energy that created it in the first place, it takes all of the fight out of a person, replaces it with the desire to buy the world a chai, reminds us that everything is okay, everything is exactly as it needs to be, everything is absolutely perfect, just like it is, all is well in the dance of life . . .
And it is. Life takes care of us, despite what our minds tell us. Life takes care of us, and we can't help but see it, if we only open to how Life wants us to live, which is how we are living, which is what Life is bringing to us daily, hourly, in every single moment. Because there really is only Yes in the universe . . . and oh Yes is so very sweet . . .