WANTED: Joy (Part II)

What is my joy, where are all the things that fed me and fuelled my passion for living and loving? I need to get in touch with these things again. My life depends on it. Let’s rewind and see what we can find.

I seem to remember the joy that my sex life used to produce. Hours of intense lovemaking led to not only physical pleasure, but emotional bonding, even on a spiritual level. I felt God’s presence regularly in the bedroom. So why can’t I have that now? Because God needs more than 20 minutes’ notice? Because two are more powerful than one in the spiritual arena and right now I’m the only one thinking beyond sex as pleasure?

Music is another thing that used to make me feel alive and really charged inside. Since I moved in with Andy I’ve put my musical tastes second to his as music is so much more a part of his daily life than it was mine. Maybe that was a mistake, even though I like most of his music. Last night I escaped to the bedroom where my stereo lives. I closed the door and sunk into total bliss as I listened the entire Grace CD by Jeff Buckley (one of my favourites). My mind had been craving something that complex, intense and beautiful. I loved being surrounded, totally enveloped by it. It reminded me of who I am. It reminded me of Cam. Most of all it reminded me how music moves me.

Being in the presence of great people used to excite me. When Andy is working a show he becomes a personality that is totally attractive and inspiring to me. I am trying to find that spark in him while he is living the other more normal parts of life, but I haven’t found enough of it to satisfy me yet. Still I miss the other great people I used to get to be with. Distance now separates me from most of them, and technology doesn’t quite close the gap. People don’t always take the time to keep in touch. And when they do I can’t look them in the eye, share a drink with them, or feel their hearts when we hug. There is a face-to-face energy that I really crave.

Creativity…there’s another possibility. Should I start drawing again? I’ve heard myself say I’d do that over the years and still haven’t. I had talent. I wonder if I still do, and if it would feel good to draw again? Then there’s the writing thing. Not feeling as confident about that. I feel I used to be much better at writing a few years ago than I am today. Today I mostly use writing as therapy. If it gets good, it does, but I can’t get caught up in that. My limited audience will have to endure my creative block.

I love the endorphin rush of a good workout. So I've started working out twice a week instead of once. Good for the heart, the mind, and I like my thighs a lot better too. I'll keep this up as long as I can.

My passion for living and loving feels just out of reach. I know it's something I can have again, I just have to find my way back to it. So, what's stopping me? I really can't look to anyone but myself, can I? Maybe it's time to take a serious look at myself and what I've created. How has my reality deviated so far from the dream?

intensely red

The first night in LA this time, we stayed in a house where Andy was house sitting. Nice house. The bedroom we stayed in was remarkably red. Intensely red. No tomato red or pinky red, but like a bright blood red. Curtains, sheets, blankets and pillow cases.

Red is a good color for inducing passion, not that we needed any help. I think it made us bolder and a little more aggressive than we'd usually be, even though it was Day One after 4 months of sexual deprivation.

I lay on the bed, still dressed, and Andy took off his clothes as he stood beside the bed. I sat up while he kneeled on the bed. He lifted his arm and pushed my face right into his armpit. I smelled his scent and he said lick it. The fact that he did that to me really set me off. I was like a wild cat after that. Off came my clothes and Andy devoured me.

Feeling his body, smelling it, tasting it, was sensual overload. It was like a sexual playground out of control. I never know what to play with next. We were all over the place, never too long in one spot. Thank God we'll be living together soon so we can slow down and enjoy every inch and every moment to its fullest.

We kissed and sucked and fucked. He left the condoms in the car, so we rode bareback for awhile then I made him get out, hard as that was. Crazy sex. It was just...so...nice.

just do it

There's something to be said for spontaneity.

magic in progress

I don't want to forget this moment. My senses are alight. I am touched at what I am seeing.

Andy is here in my bedroom spilling his soul onto canvas for me. I get to witness him in his element, doing what makes him...him. He is alive and loving it. I am alive and loving it. I'm so glad he bought that tube of light blue permanent, as my tribute would not look the same without it. It is his signature color.

He keeps asking me if I'm bored. He thanks me for not getting sick of hearing the same CDs over and over again as he paints. I hear him sing. He forgets I'm listening. Hours go by. I love watching him. I love that he's in the same room with me.

When that song with the violins comes on, I feel something well up inside of me and I have to interrupt him for a kiss. He couldn't be happier. His look of concentration melts into adoration. I've never seem him so relaxed.

This is good.

dance of passion

Baryshnikov is such a beautiful man. I never forgot this incredible dance from the first time I saw it. It moved me way back in '85 when I barely knew the meaning of passion myself. Now I can only imagine what Baryshnikov must have been like in bed.

his body was mine

I had the most amazing sexual experience. I was in Rob's bed a couple nights ago. We were kissing and touching naked under the covers (my favorite cold weather activity).

I suddenly had a great idea. I asked him to lie on top of me, his back to my front. He was kind of heavy, but he's really not that much heavier than me, plus he's shorter, so our bodies lined up nicely. I was able to stay in that position for awhile...and let's just say I had really good access to all the right stuff.

Now if you don't know much about me, you must at least know by now that I adore the male body. I love it so much that I am unable to choose only one favorite part. I am obsessed with everything from armpits to the trail of hair down the stomach, not to mention balls, nipples, thighs and butts. Basically, everything male. And I've been told I handle myself quite capably when it comes to a man's body. It's been my passion for decades.

So, back to my great idea. Rob climbed on top and I immediately wrapped my arms around the front of him and ran my hands over his hard chest, down his stomach and beyond. I grabbed his cock with my right hand and jerked it without any hesitation, knowing exactly what was needed from second to second. My left hand ran from his nipple to his stomach and down to his balls. I closed my eyes and I felt for those moments as if his body was my own.

It was beautiful and sensual and hot. And he LOVED it.

10,000 hours to greatness

According to neurologist Daniel Levitin, it takes 10,000 hours of practice to achieve the level of mastery associated with being a world-class expert. Researchers have found this to be true across the board, whether it's athletes, musicians, chess players, composers, etc.

I, personally, am working towards expertise in sex. Because, after all, it's what I like to do. And to spend that much damn time doing one thing, you have to have a fierce passion for it. I truly love sex, I always have. In a loving relationship, that is, not just sex for the sake of sex. To me that is empty. Which may sound fuddy duddy to some, but then again, perhaps they haven't read my posts about vanilla sex or sacred sex.

Anyway....back to greatness. Apparently there is much more to achieving greatness than just putting in the time, says Malcolm Gladwell, author of Outliers, which I started reading this week. What are the magical ingredients? I've already touched on passion, that's a no-brainer. 10,000 hours of anything, except sleep, requires some pretty serious wanting. In this book, Gladwell uncovers the secrets behind the making of extremely successful people.

Exposure to opportunity is one crucial factor. Timing is another. When a person is born often plays a significant role in exposing them to the right opportunities. This is usually followed a snowball effect wherein early opportunities lead to higher achievement which then brings forth even more opportunities.

Surprisingly, talent is less important than you might think. Of course these individuals have some natural ability to begin with (or else they'd lack the neccesary passion in the first place), but research shows that their degree of talent is not proportional to their degree of success.

I found these facts very cool indeed. I can always appreciate seeing new explanations for things. I'm not going to go into great detail about the book here--read it for yourself to find out more. However, I couldn't help but question the assumption he makes.

Gladwell clearly associates greatness with success. Well, who's to say that any of these greats are truly successful? Sure, in all his examples, these folks ended up filthy rich. But let's not confuse success with money. Let's assume these people are successful because they are fulfilling their passion. They continue to invest their time perfecting their expertise for the simple joy that that action brings them.

Which brings me back to sex......

she's baaaack...

When I started this blog my intention was to explore and share my passions with whoever would listen. My life had most recently been blessed with great relationships, and great sex, plus other exciting adventures typical of a woman newly single by choice. My friends were fascinated on a daily basis and a few were even living vicariously through me.

In the past month, however, I felt myself falling out of Dinamode, weighted by new pressures at work. Other issues piled on adding to my stress and before you know it, I felt rather dull. Dinamo was deflated and sex took a bit of effort the last few weeks. Dreadful.......

But things are looking up now and I am happy to report that Dinamo's back. I've just emerged from a very fulfilling weekend and learned something I should have realized all along. I discovered that my desire for sex with Rob is directly proportional to the degree to which I open my heart to him. Elementary? Yes.

I have gone through these cycles with him before, but never realized it was my doing until now. I always assumed that it was because we were spending too much time together, or it was the usual ups and downs of a relationship or my hormones affecting my desire.

But it's none of those things. My desire is dependent on my willingness to allow the love to flow freely between us. My willingness to get totally lost in the moment with him, to let our bodies meld and our souls speak in their silent language. To hang in the balance of trust and let emotion completely take over. We are rewarded with the most powerful pleasures and a deep love that carries us for days.

This is bliss. This is the passion I want to write about. This is me. And life is good.

"The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire."

~ Field Marshal Ferdinand Foch