I have a confession to make: I discovered recently that I am an auditory voyeur.
It is part of a new designation I claim for myself. How do I know this? When I am around people who vocally express pleasure, I can feel it resonating in my body.
A week ago, I had a visceral experience of that which I was reluctant to share, but friends encouraged me to go for it. Even after all these years of counseling people around sexuality and relationships, it remains my growing edge personally—not that I am shy, or repressed sexually. It isn’t about having huge secrets I keep under wraps. I think of myself as being “vanilla with rainbow sprinkles” when it comes to exploration and experience in the boudoir, although there are those in my inner circles with raised eyebrows and mischievous smiles who let me know that I play deeper in the pool than I am willing to admit.
I know that pleasure and connection with others, regardless of the activity involved, is enhanced by sound and I encourage clients (and myself) to use it generously. Sighing, moaning, toning, singing and chanting are all wonderful means of expression both in and out of the bedroom.
Think of it as being like contagious yawning. When you are around someone oxygenating their brain by opening their mouth and taking in gulps of air, you are nearly helpless to refrain from joining them. So too is it with contagious pleasure. If you walk into a room where folks are smiling and laughing, aren’t you more inclined to do so? If you find yourself with sad or grumpy people, how easy is it to feel uplifted?
A few years ago, I was at a weekend workshop in which one of the exercises was set in a darkened room. The participants were led through a meditation that called us to delve into cavernous emotions. Across the room, I could hear a woman wailing and although I couldn’t see her, I could visualize her body wracked with sobs of the most intense grief imaginable. In my own corner, wrapped in a cocoon of my emotional making, I was experiencing in memory the loss of my mother a year or so earlier. Already sad, I found myself being swept away on her tidal wave of woe and joined her in keening. By the time we were finished, I felt like a wrung out dishrag, having merged my pain with hers.
I am also clairaudient and receive messages that are literally vocalized in my head. Some come while I am in dreamland and others while awake. I heed them all. I also script out conversations with people; hearing their voices and mine as we go back and forth with our dialog. Amazingly, there are times when they actually play out nearly word for word as I imagined them.
Another aspect of auditory voyeurism is eavesdropping.
Although I don’t intentionally do so, there are times when I can’t help but overhear what people are saying. Sometimes I laugh quietly and at others I cringe. On occasion, I invite myself in, to engage in a flirtatious verbal threesome. Usually it is welcome and that is how I have made new friends.
As a writer, words are my lifeblood. They dance in my veins and flow through my soul. Not only do I like to see them, but delight to hear them. When someone describes their loving, lush intentions, that sends shivers too. When I fantasize on the sensual-mental stage, eavesdropping on my own thoughts and those of the imaginary lover “characters” in the scenes as they play out, that is a turn on as well.
As a seasoned woman, I have finally allowed myself to completely drink in pleasure as if it is the most intoxicating beverage, slurping all the juice from the bottom of the glass.
I invite you to indulge your own auditory voyeur and then share your stories here. I would love to hear them.
Author: Edie Weinstein
Editor: Catherine Monkman
Photo: Silvia Vinuales/Flickr