Sex, Love & MindFuckery!

I’ve just finished watching ‘Orgasm Inc: The Story of OneTaste’ on Netflix. The controversial documentary exploring the alleged questionable ethics and practices of this once highly charged, so to speak, celebrity-endorsed organisation, a part of the revolutionary sexual wellness industry. I remember hearing about OM meditation nearly a decade ago. I watched the TED talk with the founder Nicole Daedone fascinated.

For those not familiar, this is basically someone stroking the upper left-hand quadrant of your clit for 15 minutes, leading to a super oceanic, wave-like, bliss-bathing, orgasm.

What’s not to like hey?!

At the time I was seeing this guy who proclaimed to be a Tantric master. To be fair, I had just come out of a chosen period of celibacy and had, over a glass of champagne with a friend, called in a lover who could support me in sexual healing. Said chap had messaged me two days later proclaiming his desire for me like fire, and, well, my mate told me that I had actually requested this and so I said yes. I’ve always had a propensity for instant manifestation of lovers. Must be a twisted, yet rather enjoyable, superpower of mine.

After 18 months we split up amicably. I had a happy and newly purring pussy. And he went on his way healing women and living his best tantric life (I’m guessing. We don’t keep in touch).

But we did try the OM meditation once. I don’t know whether I just wasn’t in the mood, or whether he wasn’t doing it right, but it didn’t engineer new states of ecstasy. It simply left me slightly irritated, both mentally and physically, and unimpressed.

These days, there’s a lot of people offering healing around sex. And I think this is a wonderful thing. Anything that can help others to experience the fullness of their sexuality, and heal from trauma, numbness and disconnection from their own body’s pleasure is to be celebrated. It’s vital. And luckily there are plenty of extraordinary people offering services, workshops, one to ones, and practices to do just that.

But in my opinion, one should be very clear when entering this arena as a punter. Sexual healing in many forms has been around since the beginning of time in one way or another. It’s not about the practices themselves. It’s probably also not about the original apple seed of intent. It’s the unmet shadowy sickly stickiness that often lurks beneath the surface, swimming sloth-like in the subconscious, of the one, or ones, offering out this service.

We’ve all got our shit. Unless we happen to be an avatar in God form walking the earth doing the Lord’s work, and, let’s be honest, even that is shifty as fuck, then we’re likely carrying around our own repressed, denied, distorted and dark relationship to our own sexuality. Throw in power hunger, potential psychopathic personality issues, control freakery, illusions and delusions of grandeur and superiority, God-like mentalities, and a potpourri of questionable morality, then Houston, we have a problem!

What draws people to the honey pot? What magnetises ordinary and good human beans to this locus? Why is it that, despite all common sense, and a seemingly reasonable amount of intelligence, folk get caught up in the gossamer glistening web of manipulation and abuse?

The problem is that upon occasion, as documented as supposed truth in the aforementioned documentary that inspired this piece of reflection, although what is offered seems and feels like a step towards freedom, pleasure, and empowerment, there comes a point when the table turns and the tale twists over and around and your own agency becomes questioned and confused.

Why though?

Why do we give away our sovereignty to another? Why do we lose our own sense of author-ity? Why do we give up our power to someone, or something, else?

Are we just stupid gullible fools? Are we so desperate to be loved, liked, accepted, seen and heard that we ignore the violent blood red flags? Do we crave the intimacy of vulnerability and see that as the green light no matter what? And are we so deprived of sweet intimacy, a feeling of finally belonging, and deep connection that we willingly go all in?

Because the willingness is a huge part here. No one is forced to take part. No one is made to stay. No one is trapped into submitting themselves into something once so illuminating and special, that crumbles into degradation, deceit and destruction.

Now I’m obviously speaking about the more severe and extreme examples and stories. There has been a smattering of these over the last decade or so. Of yoga teachers, oh so many yoga teachers, gurus, leaders of religions, CEO’s of larger multinational branded commercial well-being companies, that have been insidiously and secretly abusing their power.

Students have been left reeling, especially if they had been in devotion and service to this person (often and usually men, though in this case, a woman), or organisation. If they have given up their lives, their careers, their families, their bank accounts, and their relationships, in order to commit to bowing, like one of those bobbing-headed dogs that you find on the back shelf of cars, at every word of their beloved guru. No matter what.

The bible warns us of false gods. False prophets. Even though I’m not religious, I still recall the story in the Old Testament about how when Moses was busy hanging out with God on a mountain top learning about the 10 commandments, the people below were having a right good time, culminating in dancing around, worshipping raucously, this image of a golden bull! I’m not exactly sure how they came about this object of attention as I’m pretty sure no one thought carrying a mahoosive heifer-akin sculptured animal with them as they escaped slavery from Egypt and crossed the red sea in a fucking miracle in the middle of the night, was a good idea! Heck. They didn’t even have time to let their bread rise!! Anyways, I digress.

Moses, and his new mate God, didn’t like it one jot. And there’s a message in there I guess about being wary of being in devotion to something that looks nice and shiny and pretty impressive, without thinking it through first. At least I think that’s the message. But once again, I’m digressing.

Look. The point is there’s continuous contrary complex conflict between the ego and soul. Between pride and humility. And between a healthy sense of Self and the destructive denigration of one’s Spirit. Especially if you’re on a spiritual, (Ugh I hate that word), path. Maybe I am in resistance. Maybe I’m stuck in my old conditioning. Maybe I’m not as committed as I said I was. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Hmmmmm.

The thing is there’s absolutely nothing amiss with our desire to belong. To be seen. To be heard. To feel connected and a part of. We are sweet and scared and confused and awkward and vulnerable creatures. We get hurt easily. We feel lonely. We crave love and being loved and having someone to love. We want to feel that our lives have meaning and purpose. We probably secretly, and sometimes not so secretly, really truly and madly long to be seen as special. As chosen. We want to feel that our lives matter. That we matter.

It’s true, isn’t it? Let’s be honest here. I know all of these places oh so well too.

And there’s nothing wrong with sex. With pleasure. With desire. Yet it’s one of our most powerful forces. Its literally creativity, generative, and the firework blazing spark of our power. And because of that, it can be dangerous too. Well, the abuse of this force that is.

Our sexuality is the seed of potency that no matter how enlightened you seem to be will flash into the forefront, the beast unleashed, rearing it’s raging and hungry head, unpredictability. Or maybe that’s totally predictable! If we haven’t dealt with our sexual shadow stories that is. Before we don our robes, light our candles, and the ink on our leaflets advertising the next sexual breakthrough to toe-curling, tremulous, and total hip workshop, has had chance to dry!

For what we resist persists. What we deny rages up in protest. What we turn away from will jump in front of us like the trickster that it is demanding to be faced.

And holy moly if you haven’t done your own devils work, then how the hell do you think you can make people feel safe, cultivate trust, respect other’s boundaries and consent, hold the space for deep traumas and pain, never mind touch that sacred sweet spot of sexual satisfaction, in a soulful and appropriate way?!

Do I sound angry? Maybe I am. Something has stirred within me to spend my evening writing these words.

Maybe I’m pissed off that something so beautiful and so needed is fucked about with by people who believe their own hype, get corrupted by fame, power, greed and money, and take advantage of peeps whom they perceive as victims to life’s unfairness!

Maybe I’m fucking frustrated that when there’s so many people doing amazing work within this industry that it only takes a few fuckwits to create a culture of distrust, disgust and destruction?

Maybe because of my own history, my own shame and fear and numbness and stories around my experiences of sexuality and pleasure, that once gave me great pain and now much pleasure. Because I found good people to work with to heal, and continue to discerningly do so!?

Maybe because of how much we have lost the original connection and true understanding of the sacredness within our sexuality and how to honour that. How not to be ashamed of our own desires and hungers and passions. How to embrace our kinkiness, inner pervert, dark erotic turn-ons, fetishes, and whatever gets you off because we are all made differently, and we all sing to a different tune?

Maybe if we knew all of this, we would create the most magnificent orchestra of such mind-blowing harmony that we would crack the code to life, love and all that shit?!?

Imagine that!?

And then maybe we wouldn’t have folk deceiving others into deserting their own integrity, ignoring their own instincts, and being shamed for not letting themselves be clearly abused by someone looking to get their rocks off!? So that we become disorientated. So that we don’t trust ourselves. Our instinctual body. Our gut. So that we are not left devastated and destroyed, and more shut down to life, love, and pleasure, possibly irrevocably and forever.

Ok. Rant over.

Look. No one else knows what’s best for us. For our body.

No one can tell us that we have to open our legs to them if we don’t want to.

No one should tell us not to open our legs if we really desire to do so.

But how about we anchor our search and curiosity in the superpower that is innocence. True innocence. Like what Eve had before she took that bite from the apple because she fucking felt like it and it was probably golden and delicious and juicy like her and then suddenly she’s not allowed to be naked because that’s wrong and shameful!? I mean, what the fuck?!

Take your power back.

Own your pleasure. For you. And for whom you consensually and consciously share it with, in whatever disco biscuit variation you delight in.

Do not, and I repeat, do not, ever, betray your own self, your own rights, your own body, your own pleasure, for anyone else.

And if you do want and need sexual healing, then I have a few tips for you:

Find someone that is recommended. Talk to folk who have worked with them. Talk to them. Ask any questions or state any fears that you may have and make sure they’re listened to and responded to in a way that feels comfortable and agreeable to you. Be clear about your own level of awareness, especially if you know that you have, or possibly might have, any abuse history that you haven’t done the inner work on. Have a good network of support around you already so that you’re not looking to fill a hole, or trying to get love, attention, connection, and intimacy solely from this source. Check in with your own level of authority- do you have it there already? Find a somatic practitioner. Go slow. Never do anything that doesn’t feel right to you. Trust your own No. Be fierce with your own word of consent and know your own boundaries. Have good foundational practices of nervous system regulation and cultivate the capacity for the edge of safety and growth that feels right for you. And respect the glorious gorgeous and divinely beautiful human being that you are.

Fuck those who abuse this right for their own power hungry and shadowy needs.

Pleasure is your right.

Own it.