Musings from my date on the scorpio moon.

Musings from my date on the scorpio moon.

I dressed to impress Saturday night, new shoes, new skirt, new lingerie. I went all out. Without verbal communication Danny and I knew what we were trying to create. I didn’t see him for a few hours before our date, he went to help some friends move, I got showered and took my make up and clothes to Shans room to get ready. He returned and went to our bedroom without disturbing me.

I sat in the room, nervous. I really didn’t want to fuck this up. I knew one wrong word, questioning his decisions or shifting out of surrender could really blow the whole night up. The next thing I know there’s a knock at the door. It’s 6pm and he’s walked round the house to the front door to ‘pick me up’. It’s cute as fuck, and my vulnerability goes through the roof.

We go out for dinner in Brisbane, city life creates a different vibe for us. Even heading to a cocktail bar after. We drink alcohol, it’s been about a year. We’re having the best time. The chemistry and banter is strong as always.

We drive home, he’s made an effort, cleaned our room, hoovered the carpet. I’m grateful. I take off my clothes to reveal my undies, but I’m shy and want to hide. We connect but it’s intense, so much pressure. Struggling, the cocktails kick in and we fall asleep.

I wake up Sunday morning, angry, sad, even more vulnerable, I can’t even look at him but we try to connect anyway. We give up, we meditate. I’d arranged our friends to come over for a $elf pleasure ritual, they arrive and we drop in. The ritual creates space for us to feel embodied. Finding the connection to ourselves first helps us drop in.

After a past lover of mine and his partner (our good friends) agreed to mediate a conversation for us. We were both disheartened. We’d created this date, we’d tried. It didn’t work and we were both angry, sad, vulnerable and fed up. We opened up and let out some deep frustration, all the shit that we wanted to point at each other but we knew it wasn’t worth it. We knew the pain and hatred we wanted to project on one another was just extreme vulnerability we didn’t want to face.

As the pain came up and out, our friends reminded us, that this was basically a first attempt. He told us when you ride a bike you don’t give up the first time you fall off. You get back up and on with a new awareness. He created a new framework in our world. Identifying ways we could wipe the slate clean and start again.

Allowing these frustrations out, speaking the unthinkable. Acknowledging the stories that destroy each others egos. We let something go. Being witnessed in the shame shifted something. As soon as our friends left we connected and it was better, but goal orientated. Racing for the finish line like we were fearful we’d loose the energy. The vulnerability still felt ever present.

As we dropped in this evening. We had a new energy in our space. I could feel my breath, I could feel his too. We weave together and touch, our fingertips joining, tracing the freckles that arch over his abdomen, a peace washed over us. He reached for my genitals and my body started to close. It was uncomfortable. I was fearful. I couldn’t share why, but I felt his vulnerability too.

We settled, and then I felt another opening as the eros rose in my body from feeling him next to me. I sat up and started to touch myself. He watched. Another wave of eros arose. We rode it. Feeling the sensuality of the moment. This time the connection built, every emotion was in it. I felt it all. I didn’t resist any of it. I allowed it to flow through me. Occasionally a thought would arise that I shouldn’t feel frustration or cold towards him, I’d lean into that and feel what how my body truly wanted to react to that coldness that rushed through me. Until another wave of emotion would take over and I’d lean into that too.

We collapsed after some time. In a heap on the bed. Soft, connected, sparkling eyes starring back at each other. This was new. I felt the depth of our love seeping through the cracks. It wasn’t fully engulfing me yet, this love is a lot to move through me. But I felt the switch. A change in our reality. We’re on to something. Something spectacular. I feel it.

A notion I realised was that sex is much like the ocean. A wave of eros rolls in, and if we’re not ready to feel that emotion, we’re going to shut it down, this might look like going into freeze or trying to create mechanical sexual acts to avoid it with friction based pleasure. Another way to escape it, is when that wave of eros rolls in we feel it a little bit, just enough to surf it to the shore with a quick orgasm. Often holding our breath or tensing our muscles.

If we really want to feel that deep oceanic pleasure we have to learn to sit in the all the emotions and allow the waves to roll over us, the pleasure will come up, when it does, we don’t chase it. We don’t try to make it something bigger or better than it is. We let it rise, and drop off, back to that stillness. When we accept the stillness another beautiful wave of eros emerges and we ride that too. Continuing to let these glorious waves ebb and flow. Each wave bringing more and more bliss as it rolls through us. Merging us to all that is. No separation from ourselves, each other and the source of all creation.