I have always regarded sex as one of God’s greatest gifts to humanity. It has the potential not only to create new beings, but also to create intimacy, healing, adventure, bliss, and contentment.
Unfortunately, humanity has bullied and pummeled our sexual gifts to a point where we focus much more attention on the pain of sex than on the pleasure. Social forces have shaped this gift from Garden of Eden innocence into a cesspool. It’s like a beautiful temple that has been ransacked by vandals and plunderers.
We have created the fog of sex. (Yes, I borrowed from the term fog of war because it’s such an apt description.)
The fog of sex is anything that keeps us from clearly seeing what a precious gift it is. The fog obscures its natural beauty. Some of the fog comes from the religious right. This is all the guilt and shame and fear heaped upon it. Some of the fog comes from the pornographic left. This is all the exploitation, trivialization, and physical obsession.
I often remind myself that how things may appear to be or how people talk about them are not necessarily the way they are.
Several times in my life I have had incredible sleep dreams that involved sex, yet a much different style from traditional flesh life. It was such an emotionally uplifting and brilliant experience. There was an amazing lightness of being and magic to it that just does not happen in real life or in the movies. It was entirely fresh, filled with love (even for strangers), and void of erotic cliches. The closest thing to this that I have seen have been commercials for Viagra and the like where they show smiley, zippity-doo-dah, lovey-kissey faces. The mood is all about juicy sex but doesn’t look at all like a porn shoot.
I wake up from dreams like this wondering why humanity has taken the path into the fog of sex.
Here are some contributing features to the fog of sex.
Materialism. Most of us are conditioned to view sex as primarily physical activity. We often define our joy by what happened with our body parts and specific sexual activities. This focus of our attention limits our joy to a small slice of pleasure pie. Though fun while the novelty lasts, it becomes more challenging later on to find meaning in the activity, which is one reason why sexual boredom steps in. Obsession with orgasm and physical appearance overshadows mental and emotional joy of sex and inhibits people from exploring new ways to think about it.
Beauty. Our society exploits youth and physical beauty at the expense of mental, emotional, and spiritual beauty. It’s ridiculous how young some people start feeling old and washed up. People will often not own the term “beautiful” or “handsome” because self-judgment or bullying have convinced them they’re sub-standard. The truth is that much beauty is nonphysical and stems from the heart and mind. More than it’s usually portrayed, sexual beauty is one’s consciousness—how one thinks, communicates, channels energy, empathizes, and plays. But in the fog of sex, we make it mostly about looks and conforming to erotic clichés.
Ego. Humans burn up plenty of brain cells worrying if they’re sexy enough. It’s a lot of work playing the chosen role of ugly or beautiful, even if you’ve got great genes. This smothers the truth that nature actually creates sex appeal. If nature did not make someone charmed and dangerous, there would be no such thing as sexual attraction. Human traditions in custom and fashion somewhat alter this—cosmetics, bedroom fashions, and pornified mannerisms, for instance. But even with those additions, nature arms the magic—as does the mind of the beholder. Ego builds or destroys this force of nature.
Religion. Even if we are not religious personally, so much of the guilt, shame, and fear we feel surrounding sex originated from organized mind control. Religions create a narrative about sexual behaviors, and society often adopts them as law or “morals.” Much of our mainstream entertainment mirrors that thinking as well, solidifying it into majority practices. The forces of rebellion including porn mock that strict behavior control, but in so doing they create a different kind of oppressive behavior code. Both narratives contribute to the fog of sex and usually don’t encourage sexual joy and wonder.
LIFTING THE FOG
Sometimes when I read information on spirituality, such as past-life regressions or afterlife research, I run across passages that ironically get me to thinking about sex. That just happened:
“As we all know, we are more than just a body, more than just a physical organism. There is some kind of essence, energy soul, or spirit which animates the body, and that’s what we’re really looking to access in these sessions.”
The author was talking about past-life regressions, but I flashed on the spiritualization of sex. Wouldn’t it be lovely for sex to be more meaningful than just a fun game to produce orgasms? Wouldn’t it be great to access soul consciousness?
OK, so for the most part, erotica doesn’t go there. We’ve become more intrigued by jiggling boobs or massive boners than by soul connections. Maybe soul connection just doesn’t sound exciting. Does a soul fuck sound any more interesting?
Spiritualized sex does not intend to put anyone to sleep, at least not until after the rush of contentment. It’s supposed to mean emotionally rich, right-brain creative freedom and sublime wildness. It’s akin to trance dancing, music making, art rendering, soul journeying bliss. It may include traditional erotic accoutrements, but leaves the door open for nontraditional expressions, too.
What’s satisfying for you in the term satisfying sex? Is it a successful orgasm or two? Is it specific, must-do sexual activities? Is it a delicious mental journey with fantasy fulfillment? Is it a meaningful emotional event? What is it?
It’s a topic that often gets danced around without specifics—what do we want out of sex? If we don’t consider what we want out of it, we get what we get.
Sometimes I think in terms of karma and reincarnation. I wonder where I have been on my sexual journeys over the centuries in different lifetimes.
I wonder what it would be like to come back as a physically beautiful woman, the kind that makes the proverbial jaws drop. I wonder if it would be any more satisfying—or unsatisfying—than what I might experience now as an average, aging man. Ultimately, does physical beauty offer any benefits for true happiness?
Being a man this time through, I am especially attentive to what women have to say about their birthrights, which some definitely see much more curse than blessing. Every time a woman complains about what it’s like to be female in a patriarchal society, a part of me shudders in anticipation of that being my path in some other life. How would I handle that?
When I have my social observer hat on, I look at the media and see that healthy sexual role models in our society are few and far between. It’s as if men are hypnotized to surrender their intelligence, humor, sensitivity, and humanity in their roles as lovers. This is the fog of sex in action.
In the privacy of my thoughts, when I think about the ideals of sexual fulfillment, what I would most like to experience if I could, I see a much more emotionally intimate connection than what’s normally portrayed in the fog of sex. I see it for men and for women. I see the meeting of souls. I see the splendor of my sleep dreams.