Relationship Thursdays [Relationship, Honesty, Trust]

¡Hola! Everybody…
You Will Know, by Stevie Wonder, is probably one his less-known compositions, but it has to be one of his best…

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-=[ Honesty, Trust, and Relationships ]=-

You will know
Troubled heart you'll know
Problems have solutions
Trust and I will show.
-- Steveland Wonder

I post these “Relationship Thursdays” rants with not a little trepidation because it would seem that I’m attempting to project this aura of a “relationship guru” and I am far from that. I don’t even own a fuckin' cat. And, trust me, I will fuckin’ drive you crazy in a heartbeat. I am insecure and possess little impulse control. I’m 56 chronologically, but 16 in everything else. I say shit I have no business saying. Like, out of nowhere I’ll say, “Damn, I’m fuckin horny today,” and you’ll be, like, “By the way, Eddie, meet my grandmother.” LOL!

I am stubborn, moody, and, hard as it is to admit, sometimes I can be downright mean. In addition, I have little regard for rules, often cross boundaries, and suffer from what I call “Relationship Tourrettes”: that embarrassing tendency to do and say things that often bring regret.

Yup. I’m a prize, ladies, so line up!

I guess what motivates me most on going on about relationships is that I see so much wrong done in the name of love and relationships. Plus, I get more page hits when people see “relationships” tags. LOL

I would have to add in my defense, I do have a few worthwhile qualities. Not many, just a few. Life with me, for example, would be one of discovery and you will definitely experience a lot of intellectual and creative stimulation (or so I’ve been told). I like to think I’m a considerate, passionate, and experienced lover. I will make you laugh a lot, and sometimes you will feel as if you’re the only woman in the world when you’re around me amd there will never be a dull moment (that's a good and bad thing!). While all that might sound good, the only thing I can say with complete confidence is that I am honest. I’m not talking about the “Gee, honey, your ass is too big” honest. That really isn’t honesty, it’s sadism. A woman pointed out to me once that there’s a difference between being honest and honesty and I have to agree. The honesty I try to exemplify is about me being as transparent as possible. It’s not honesty about you or someone else -- externalized honesty. I don’t know if you have noticed but being “honest” about other people is a lot easier than being honest about yourself, isn’t it? No, I’m talking about honesty that engenders trust and for me trust is everything. In terms of relationships, nothing is more important than trust.

Nothing -- not love, nor “attraction,” nor any of that other bullshit. Trust is all.

That’s it. That’s my one card, that I am trustworthy -- I can be trusted and I develop that trust through my actions, my life’s direction, and the consistency between what I say and what I do. To me it’s interesting that quite a few women I meet would probably rather I be “normal” (i.e., not be clingy, immature, or psychotic *grin*) than trustworthy or honest. Sure, many blah blah blah about trust and honesty, but that’s just talk. Very few people even know what trust is. From my perspective, most people tend to see trust from a selfish perspective. They have no clue what a genuine trusting relationship entails.

I’m not making a judgment call here; I’m stating an observation.

For a few years not too long ago, I had the good fortune to share office space with a remarkable woman. She was married, but she and I developed a unique and close friendship. And what was really cool was that her husband actually supported our friendship. She was an avid mountain climber and I used to think that shit was crazy. One day, after months of cajoling, she finally convinced to accompany her on a climbing trip. I had no intention of climbing, but being a city boy, I thought it would be a nice change of pace to go into the country for a weekend.

Of course, she convinced me to scale this fuckin’ wall and it was an exhilarating experience. I think rock or mountain climbing is an appropriate metaphor for relationships. I had to trust in her knowledge and ability and she had to trust that I wouldn’t shit in my pants, panic, and cause us both to fall. In the same way, intimacy is an adventure in which two individuals work to bring together their needs, goals, and desires and to maintain the balance needed to keep the relationship intact.

I’ll abuse the metaphor even further and state that as the relationship deepens in involvement -- as the climbers go higher up -- the risk associated with depending on another increases. At first, the level of interdependence is more casual but becomes more intense the stakes higher. In addition, it becomes clear that the efforts of one partner alone cannot achieve the balance needed to maintain the relationship. A solo climber is often a foolish or dead climber, and if either partner loses their grip both will plunge to the depths beneath.

My analogy highlights the important elements in understanding the relationship between trust and risk. Trust is not for pussies. It's not some bullshit fairy tale, ladies. Every day we make decisions in our relationships: decisions to commit further or to withdraw, or what course of action to take (or not take) in the face of a conflict, or to make use of an opportunity or to let it pass by.

Oftentimes, these decisions are difficult and full of risk, in the process forcing us to confront our primal fears and hopes when it comes to depending on another for our needs to be met. In the same way that mutual trust enables climbers to conquer the mountain, it provides the crucial foundation from which relationship partners can confidently approach the task of making decisions. This provides the explicit contract of commitment to good intentions that makes everything else run more smoothly.

During one difficult moment, a woman once asked me, “What can I do to make this better for you?” That blew me away. (No, I didn’t say, “Gimme that ass!” Get your mind out the gutter! LOL) In that moment, all my anxieties about the situation (and the relationship) and the decisions I was contemplating disappeared. Her question communicated to me in a very honest and direct manner that she was there with me and that she was willing to move the relationship forward. Unfortunately, that relationship was stillborn -- it never worked out because I felt the values she expressed weren’t in line with her actions, but it was still a powerful thing to say -- a powerful lesson.

This brings me to matter of how to build trust in a relationship. I’ve already mentioned one: responsiveness. When that former lover expressed her willingness, she was also expressing a responsiveness, acknowledging and being respectful of my disposition. In other words, feelings of security are strengthened when a partner’s actions are geared toward a person’s particular needs. For example, when that woman asked me what she could do to make a situation better, it signaled to me a special consideration of my needs and preferences. Sometimes by choosing to put aside for a moment, his or her own preferences in order to satisfy those of the other, a partner demonstrates genuine care about the person and is fundamentally motivated in the relationship.

There are other factors in building trust in relationships, of course. There’s dependability, which is the most fundamental way of establishing trustworthiness. Dependability is like showing up (fully present) consistently. A trustworthy partner is one on whom you can depend, who can be relied upon time and time again, to act honestly and with consideration.

There’s also the all-important capacity to resolve conflict in a manner that doesn’t neglect a person’s needs or jeopardize the relationship. Most of all this entails allowing everything to be on the table -- the good parts and the bad and, not necessarily condoning, but accepting our "bad" aspects as well as our good. Too many people are addicted to being "positive" whatever the fuck that means, and that's a bullshit fairy tale. Life is more than the nice shit. And if you can't deal with the bad shit, then get yourself a fuckin cat! LOL If you can feel that it is safe to be you -- the good and the bad -- then there's trust, or at least the ground upon which trust can be built.

If there is a sense of confidence in the couple’s ability to resolve conflict, the trust grows. I think that the belief that it is safe to depend on the integrity and compassion on the other’s motives is essential to conflict resolution. If I’m not questioning your motives, if I have taken hold of the rope trusting that you’re there for me, trusting implicitly, then there’s that transparency that allows the light of shared love to shine through us with as that becomes our unshakable bond. If we have that, we can conquer the world, let alone our conflicts.

Finally, there is faith. Faith in this sense means a sense of closure with a lot of emotion in it: there is a sense of closure regarding the partner’s trustworthiness and the future of the relationship. Faith in this sense is connected to an individual’s view of the partner of that takes in the good with the bad. That is the extent to which a partner can come to terms with a partner’s faults.

I guess women need a lot of “faith” when it comes to yours truly. LOL!

My Name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…

The Best 'No' That Was Ever Said

I was going to title this post as "Some More Thoughts on Celibacy" but then by some delicious serendipity my friend and lovely writer Maura Hernandez wrote this on Twitter: "Saying 'no' feels good. You should try it."

This hit me at the core, because it was exactly the phrase I was looking for in the wordsmith mill. You see, last night, after dinner with friends in Fort Lauderdale, I walked around in a club on Las Olas, looking for a few strays who had left the table for some diversion while a few of us finished our cocktails.

The place was hazy, shadows and lights in stark contrast, bouncing off the walls like the music -- scantily clad club goer bodies everywhere and I couldn't find my friends.

I'm not surprised they didn't stay.

There were an unusual amount of women who looked like Russian whores and lots of young Guido types. The bouncer, who was a Caucasian refrigerator about ten feet tall, wasn't carding people. But his mountainous stature was all for naught -- I suspect the biggest threat to the place was a Boca bitch wearing steel sharp stilettos, lording it over with her cheap hundred dollar hair extensions. The spot wasn't particularly appealing to me. It reeked of fake. It portended sex for money, not love.

And then it happened. The ex-boyfriend just swooped into my line of sight, life flashing before me in a 30 second B movie that I hate to replay.

I saw him mingling with some "kids" in the corner.

How is it possible to feel compassion and repulsion at the same time?

Honestly, nearly a year and half later, that's what I felt.

And I was a bit surprised ... I hadn't thought about him at all in months.

All this bolstered my now conscious decision to be celibate in a sex-crazed world, a world that defines relationship that way.

Because along the path of celibacy, I have also developed some of the best relationships I've ever had, some that have made my life more meaningful and given me great purpose -- something I could never achieve with the ex and much less so wearing the mask of cheap romance.

But more about the evening.

It probably wasn't a coincidence that some of my dining companions were a lovely couple that had found love under some rather challenging circumstances. One of party is going through a divorce and the other was encouraging the partner to feel compassion for the soon-to-be ex-spouse.

People come into our lives for a reason. Perhaps if my ex had not come into my life, I wouldn't have had the trial experience and I wouldn't be where I am today, feeling very complete on my own and very anchored in this drifting process of living. Because we are all drifting towards death and it is all a process, whether we want to acknowledge it or not. I know it sounds morbid, but if you don't appreciate every breath you take, warts and all, you aren't really living.

Why do I tag this blog as a "guide to chronic living"? Because we can't help it. Life is a gift.

And my friend Maura is right. Every 'no' is a great thing, because it opens opportunities not only in our own lives but to someone else and elsewhere. Every time I say 'no' someone else gets a 'yes' ... it is all a give and take in this interconnected web, an interchange and market of the same energy.

You cannot possibly feel alone when you feel connected this way.

This is why, even though it sucked to see my ex and I thanked God he didn't acknowledge or recognize me (I've lost weight and after all, it was a crowded lounge), I can still project love to him.

I still wonder, however, how I could have ever spread my legs for that man, and I know every woman can relate to that.

And regardless, we were not the right match.

When I was younger, I thought that people gave me funny looks for being single and childless. Now, I think the "funny look" might have been a glance of envy for the power and freedom I enjoy because I'm single and childless.

There is nothing wrong with love and having a family, but there is also nothing wrong with honoring a path of devotion to others that are not your biological family. That is really what celibacy is all about. Actually, being celibate is all about love. Real love, agape love -- devotion to the world -- not just one individual.

When I hear my single friends whine about men and loneliness, I wish I could reach into their hearts and show them that there's so much more to life than sex and romance. There's nothing wrong with sex and romance, but the heart needs to aspire to more eventually. We are bigger and better than that.

Sex and romance can be true detractors from our real purpose.

So far, I've told you there's nothing wrong with a bunch of contradictory things and now I'm going to mix it up and tell you that I have no clue what the right thing is for you or anyone, but I do know this: no lover will ever take away my purpose in life. He'll contribute to it. And I won't settle for less. Love is enormous and his heart better be even bigger. We will swell and sway together.

In the meantime, I'm happy to be in this path.

Those two little words 'no' and 'yes' can define us in so many ways. They help set boundaries. You can still be loving and refuse with a 'no' when it's the right thing to do. And you can take huge leaps of faith when you say 'yes' for the right reasons as well.

If my ex hadn't said 'no' to me, I would've been in a place that I would have never wanted to be. He did me a huge fucking favor. I am grateful to him for that even if it makes no sense or it rhymes with reason in a twisted way.

Think about that simple word 'no' ... it could be your most fortunate destiny.

Why Celibacy Is Cool

The subject has come up lately about why I'm not dating anybody. And when I stopped to think about it, coming to the conclusion that I'm pretty happy with my life just as it is, warts and all, I asked myself the question: "Oh yeah, you haven't been with anyone since the ex. What's up with that?"

I think it's safe to say that after a year or more of no sex, no romance, no nothing of that nature, you're pretty much celibate.

SEX AINT ON THE BRAIN

I don't go out thinking that I could potentially find a lover.

"Pick up" for me refers to hors d'oeuvres, not sexual experiences. You know, I'm pretty sure I could snap my fingers at any horny toad after a few drinks, but that's not my modus operandi. Also, I don't dress to impress, even if I might wear something that flatters the generous girls hanging from my chest. I am totally WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get).

You better love me with or without makeup, with or without Manolo Blahniks and/or cheap, gas station rubber flip flops. I don't do online dating anymore and I am not on the "prowl" like some friends say when we're joking about Cougars. (Don't be offended, younger men, but as cute as you are, that's not a lifestyle choice for me.)

"Sex" is not part of my social agenda. I'm just being me all the time, completely authentic. No roles, no drama. The corny, overused and misused Zen phrase "it is what it is" pretty much guides me.

And I think it's totally cool to say I'm good with all of that.

I *could* have more, but I choose to, prefer to, not to have more of all of the bs that would come with a more complex life.

Does that make me a freak?

If I say "I don't give shit about sex" will you find that strange? Ok, fine, I'll own that.

Proudly.

OH THE IRONY

But there's more to this than meets the eye.

Rather ironic for Sex and the Beach, I know, but sex is overrated. (Not the first time I've written about that, but formerly a sweet potato was involved.) Actually it's not sex -- but rather all the drama and anxiety associated with romantic connections that is basically a huge tax on human existence -- it's all that crap I would rather do without, thank you.

Maybe it's all the yoga I've been rediscovering lately. Maybe it's becoming more mature with age and gathering wisdom. Maybe it's my hormones drying up in some pre-menopausal party. Whatever it is, I do know this: I just don't give a fuck about fucking and I'm all the better for it.

I want to make something clear. I am not running away from romance. I am not choosing celibacy to avoid the inevitable challenges that come from two people trying to make a life together. I just don't want bullshit imitation drama romance sex.

Yeah, please don't get me wrong. Sex is awesome. Sex is an amazing thing. Sex is a wonderful way to connect passionately with another human being. Sex is primal. Sex is a natural and beautiful expression of all that is human when it is done with good, honest intentions, even sex for sex's sake.

A life-altering, passionate union should be on everyone's bucket list. And hell, I'm not even talking about intercourse. Sex in all its glorious manifestations is an ingredient in life's bounty, even if it's just touching, holding or kissing. I will light a candle to the altar of true sensuality any day.

And yes, sex makes babies, if that's your thing. Nothing wrong with that.

But, I think, at least for me, it's an all or nothing experience at this point in my life.

SOMETIMES SEX IS NOT ABOUT SEX

Just look at what I wrote above. All this good stuff, right? But what about the cons?

How many people do you know or have had sex with who actually really have had sex to connect with you? How much of sex is not just some self-satisfying, masturbatory experience? How much of sex is not some self-serving marketing and pubic relations campaign? How much of sex is your ego using that as a form of manipulation to claim ownership of another person? How many people do you know who are cry babies, needing this or that, getting totally wrapped up in some drama of some kind even in relationships that are not sexual? How much of you is really involved in the sexual experience? Do you honestly let go or are just playing by some rules -- some artificial category that the other has created in order for you to be pleasing and subdominant, to maintain some status quo?

Seriously. I could go on and on with questions ...

How does his sticking his penis inside of you have to do with how you are evolving as a spiritual being in this life path? Because if that's what you're using to satisfy your relationship craving, that better be some good dick!

I think it's safe to say many women can admit to ALL of the above. It's part of being human. It's part of the lessons learned.

DOUCHE YOUR SPIRIT

There's something to be said about purity of mind and purity of soul -- yes, something to be said about cleansing the mind of all the drama the ego craves. That's really the whole point of celibacy, if you look at it from a yogic perspective. I'm not the first tantra-focused yogi to say something similar.

Develop a relationship with self first. It means you put your energy elsewhere, harnessing it for a higher purpose and all kinds of creativity. It is liberating and absolutely freeing to not have the anxiety associated with desire and craving. It is wonderful to feel universal love -- a love that is not about "me" but about something more lasting, something bigger than me.

I'm not sure how to describe this. But instead of feeling lonely, I feel like a huge balloon of love has burst inside me, and I never, ever feel alone even if I am in a reclusive writer mode or I am simply enjoying something out there in the world on my own. My heart expands. This is so much better than the ego-driven complications of sex and romance. I am loving on a whole other level that I was not capable of when I was younger.

It means that I go out, live my life, have everything I need, give up attachments to major material things, without worrying about what's missing. I am living, walking, breathing love all the time. Just because I'm not giving someone a blow job doesn't mean I'm not loving.

Love is a universal right. Those who can do so in a mutual sexual expression that is bound by respect and honor are very lucky. But it's not limited to lovers. You can be a lover and still be celibate.

I guess that's what I'm trying to say. You are not "without" love just because you aren't dating or having sex or romantically involved with someone. And that love, that feeling of connectedness is a very powerful drug you can tap into. My arm is attached to that universal IV of yummy satisfaction 24/7. Sex with the right guy would be icing on the cake. He would simply benefit from all this love.

The ancient yogis called this Bramacharya. I call it peace of mind. (See a Sex and the City clip at this New York yogi's website on the subject.) Even the principles of sexual tantra spell out that a union between two bodies will or should ultimately branch out as an expression of a greater, more humanity-oriented love.

THINK ABOUT THE PHRASE "HAVING SEX"

Is this how you are "having" sex? Is sex something you should "have" or is it a bigger part of yourself that you could never actually "have"? How can anyone "own" sex anyway? Because really, at the end of the day, that belly you are rubbing up against isn't going to be around forever and neither are you. What are making of this experience? Is it really love?

I sigh when I read what I just wrote. Some of the emptiest moments I've had in my life have been in the hot and heavy, sultry and sweaty daliances with an other. I call it existential sex that takes me out of the moment. I hate that. Clearly, those lovers didn't have a real spiritual hold on me or maybe I just wasn't mature enough to be "there" for them.

Good grief, people do so much shit to attract sex. They lose weight, they wear flattering clothes, put on makeup and just get all jacked up, but it's all like lemmings wanting to jump off the cliff. No one ever thinks to go inside and clean up all the emotional garbage, the practice of which I think should be a precursor for great sex. I don't care how hot you look or how good you can bang me in bed -- neediness, insecurity and all that bullshit is not sexy. And of course, it's certainly not sexy if I am the needy and insecure one in your embrace!

FREEDOM FROM SEX ANXIETY IS A LUXURY

Look inside before you make love. Are you really ready? Are you spreading your legs or just spreading yourself thin?

I think a lot of women can relate to that ... I'll admit I've spread myself thin before, not honoring myself at times when I was better off being celibate. And I know that's not love. It's genital exhilaration surely and more like an acrobatic exercise, a mediocre excuse for love, all physical pleasures aside.

Does this mean I will never enter a passionate union again? No. It just means I know what I want and will not settle for less. I think this is something every woman should feel. I'm lucky to feel it in my early 40s and to have this way of living, this freedom.

Does this mean I never actually connected to past lovers? No, I did. And I honor and thank the universe for giving me such experiences. Just because my ex-boyfriends didn't end up "ever after" doesn't mean I don't honor the love we shared. Marriage is great, but it does NOT define love in all its complexity!

Does this mean I never fantasize or think about someone I'm attracted to? No, of course not. That happens as well. And if have to, I'll relieve myself, but whenever and if I even want to. So no, I'm not living some monkish life devoid of pleasures.

The difference is that it all falls into place. The sex and romance thing doesn't stress me one bit. I am actually, by being celibate, approaching what it might be to actually be a great lover -- in love completely without being attached (yet) to one particular person.

YOU ARE MORE THAN YOUR VAGINA

Shit, I've even had to deal with the Cuban guilt trip about how not being a mother makes me an incomplete woman. I'm sure that pushing out a human from your vagina is an incredible experience and I know that raising a child is the most selfless, compassionate thing a person can do, but I'm not broken or "less" of a woman because motherhood hasn't been part of my path so far. Well, at least, I choose not to buy into that kind of thinking that wants to put me down and judge me negatively on the basis of having a uterus that hasn't incubated a rug rat. In fact, I think that having babies doesn't necessarily make you instantly compassionate or even a good human being. (Apologies to all you great mothers out there. I'm not referring to you.)

A relative whom I adore told me earlier today that "I'm sorry things turned out bad for you." But "things" are not bad at all -- just because I haven't taken the traditional path, haven't had a marriage and kids, and am currently not actively pursuing a dating life -- all of this doesn't mean I haven't honored life and done good in my own, quirky way.

Listen, women, there is no "traditional" path out there. It's what you make of it. Make your own tradition. You have the gift of life, use it. Create your life. Write your own story. For me right now, it's a path of celibacy and one that I'm proud to honor because it works for me. For you, it could be so many things -- singlehood, rediscovered life after divorce, a rekindled flame with a hobby, a career change that makes you jump out of bed in the morning -- who knows, whatever, seize it! Celibacy could be a time to nurture yourself and your passions outside of the bed sheets. It's not dry or boring in the least. Just be aware. Be conscious of it.

I'm just sharing a good practice here.

Think about it, you single ladies and my non-lady guys, too. I encourage others to try it out, even if it just means letting go of the "intention" to find a lover. Love yourself instead and focus on the people in your life who matter, just obviously in a non-sexual way.

Fall in love with your life, with just being alive, first, before falling in love with someone else you're going to share every fiber of your being with. The best sex is the kind you really believe in. Don't settle for anything mediocre. And when you do get there, don't forget to connect, be grateful and enjoy.

Tying the Knot in Florida: How Laid Back Locals Do It

All you need is love and a little creativity to pull off an utterly simple yet breathtaking wedding ceremony on Florida's gulf coast.

Do it in November, when the weather starts to cool down. Hire a pontoon boat for all your nearest and dearest and head out from Pine Island Marina to the desolate, southernmost point of North Captiva Island at Redfish Pass.

Ask your guests to take their shoes off, disembark on the beach and assemble at your chapel by the sea, built by mother nature.

Have a good friend of yours officiate the ceremony. Say your own vows. Improvise if you need to.

Kiss and don't care about getting the hem of your dress all wet. Collect shells. Soft golden sunlight is making everything look so damn gorgeous. It feels good, like getting married for the second time because you want to not because you have to.

On the way back to the reception, open the cooler for beers. Play Bob Marley. Dance under the full moon, its silver glow lighting the smooth waters of Pine Island Sound.

"One Love."

Yeah, that works.

What else do you need?

This wedding cynic totally dug her friend's beach ceremony. If you're going to get married Florida gulf coast style, less is definitely more.

The Sex Blog [Relationship Challenges]

¡Hola! Everybody,
Change is hard! LOL But it’s the only constant -- even the surest things change. Gotta love this ride we call “life”!

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-=[ The Challenge of Relationships ]=-

I am playing the game I suppose,
out of habits
learned long ago,
but I have been in these waters
far longer than
even my tired eyes could tell you.

Okay, so I’m going to start out by copping to the fact that I’m not all that great in the relationship arena. I don’t even have a pet… Therefore, take the rest with a grain of salt.

Something happens when I realize I’m feeling deeply for a woman and how painfully clear it is that considering a relationship is a lot like standing at the abyss and jumping. In other words, along with feelings, there comes the realization that I am also becoming vulnerable to that person I have feelings for. And that’s not a great revelation for me because, I have to admit, it’s scary.

There, I said it: relationships scare me.

It’s not a fear of commitment, that’s not it. I have and can commit to living with another person. The part that’s fearful is the part of being vulnerable. Believe me, there are plenty of people who are in committed relationships who choose not to be vulnerable. It’s not that hard. You can be in a long-term, committed relationship and not really share deep intimacy. I see it all the time. But because of the kind of person I am, when I open and give, it’s about going…

All.

The.

Way.

That’s why I’ve previously admitted that beginnings are extremely difficult at times with yours truly. If I’m seeing you and we both know there’s a surrender looming in the near future -- we’re both feeling these feelings and we know it’s headed somewhere -- then I’m not holding much of anything back. I’m not saying that I’m blabbing everything out by the third date, or that I immediately go overboard. LOL! That’s closer to codependency, not love. I am saying that I work at being transparent. I don’t play hide and seek. If I’m feeling something, I will look you in the eyes and let you know, “Sweetie, I don’t know how or why, but I’m starting to have these feelings… ” I won’t play The Game. The one thing you can always count on with me, is that you will always know where I stand (sometimes this is not such a good thing).

Sometimes I think that I’m too transparent or honest for my own good, but that’s how I roll: I put my cards on the table and lay it out as I see and feel it. I believe there are many people out there who see my stance as too idealistic. That people really can’t be totally open to one another. Worse, there are others who will use that. Those who would manipulate my transparency don’t last, because, shit, I’ve been veteran of the Love Wars for longer than even my tired eyes could tell you. I’m not going to let you use me that way. I’d rather go home, curl up in a fetal position, and ride that hurt -- that energy -- until I’m done with it.

Still, there’s a lot of anxiety around opening up to another in that way. Sometimes what helps me are basic reassurances. I’m like a kid in more ways than one. Something simple such as a “hello” or a passing show of affection goes a long way with me. It’s ironic because those things can be easily faked to some degree, but if I’m getting the attention and shows of affection, I’m not as anxious. Some women don’t like men like that, but it’s who I am. A kiss, a note, a surprise fuck, even just an unbidden and tender smile soothes me and lets me know that, though there aren’t any guarantees in life, you’re there and you’re somehow saying that we’re moving forward -- that you’re there with me, feeling me.

In other words, I need tons of affection! LOL!

You see, I’m really not all that complicated. If we were together, all it would take is that you throw some food at me, pay lots of attention and some sex here and there, and I’m straight.

I’m kidding. I guess what I’m saying is that relationships aren’t easy and when I resolve to engage in a relationship, I don’t take that lightly. Dearest, relationships, despite what you have been told, aren’t games. I’m also saying that a couple needs to reassure one another, especially in the beginning, when things are not so clear. Sometimes what makes the difference between having Mr./ Ms. Right as opposed to Mr./ Ms. Right (now), is how you open up to that person.

I’m just sayin’

Love,

Eddie

The Friday Sex Blog [Love Lessons]

¡Hola! Everybody…
Life is about to get "interesting" for this blogger... the waves? The surf is up and the it's getting rough. Wish me luck.

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Love Lessons

“The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.”

Just to set the record straight I am 55 years-old and for most of my adult life, I have been a committed bachelor. I have had countless relationships, many casual, a few serious, but for most of my life, I have been single by choice. I have no regrets. I like it that I’ve been single for that long and consistently. With the exception of one woman, I have never married, though I’ve lived with women over the years. I am not looking for a long-term relationship – nor have I ever.

Does the above sound like a hopeless romantic?

Exactly!

I am as far removed from the archetype of the hopeless romantic as you can get. Women -- women looking for serious relationships -- stay away from me. LOL

Yet the fact remains that you will be hard-pressed to find a more romantic person than yours truly. If you’re the object of my passion, you will feel as if you’re the only woman in the world. I will write poems in your honor, make exquisitely and excruciating slow love to you, perform solitary parades to celebrate your returns, mourn your departures. You will remember our first kiss because the attention to detail devoted to that most anticipated of moments will make you wet with appreciation.

I am not a “good guy.” I’m the man your mother warned you about. You may hate me when it’s all done, but you will remember me.

I have broken countless hearts and have had mine shattered into a million pieces so many times, I no longer even bother trying to put all the jagged shards together. It’s there, this heart of mine – cracked open.

Welcome.

I share all this in the interest of transparency because the one thing I bring to the table is my honesty -- my earnest desire to be as real as I can be. Later you may scandalize me, but you will never be able to say I wasn’t true.

My first kiss was with a girl named Emily. I was twelve years-old and I can remember that dark winter night and the song was playing over her transistor radio (Mellow Yellow). I remember I closed my eyes (I always close my eyes) and I remember we kissed on a dare. We both liked each other, but I was too shy to do anything about it until one of my cousins dared us and we kissed. It was a delicious kiss. My heart thumped. After that first kiss, we would meet every night in that tenement hallway and kiss. One day she let me kiss her nubby breasts, which I kissed tenderly, and another night I ventured and felt the moist wetness between her legs. She moaned…

We almost broke up because my cousin, who was jealous, insisted that a blister on Emily’s lip was some kind of sexual disease (it was a fever blister). Eventually, her mother caught us kissing (on the rooftop), we weren’t allowed to see each other, and when the summer recess came, they moved far away. That was my first heartbreak (and hers).

I was very much a nerd in those days, extremely shy around the opposite sex. Not long after Emily, my first lover, the raven-haired beauty, Victoria ("don't call me Vickie"), our 16-year-old babysitter, came to me in the middle of the night and thrust her hairy pussy onto my face. I remember the pungency of her sex and feeling somewhat confused, until I flicked at her with my tongue and she groaned. We would make love like that for months, until my mother came home early one night (she was working a night shift at a factory) and caught us in the clinch. Victoria wasn't allowed to babysit after that, but it didn't stop us. Many years later, I ran into Victoria and she confessed feeling guilty at having corrupting me, but I assured her that I felt gratitude for having been corrupted by the lovely Victoria. We laughed...

I would fall madly in love at 14 with a girl named Milva. Milva was intelligent, was a writer (or wanted to be one), and was one of the few people who could keep up with me intellectually. When we made love, it was like a poem the way it unfolded. We made love under the boardwalk at Brighton Beach's Pier 6. I loved Milva with all my heart and we were the most popular couple in our high school. Milva had jet-black hair, large and intelligent cherry-brown eyes and a petite but curvy body.

Dang! We were so hot for one another!

Milva left me one day for an “older guy” (someone in college) and that was a devastating loss. It would be a while before I could love again in that completely open and fearless way. Afraid of rejection, of being hurt, I turned to literature and began reading all the “Great Books” of the Western Canon. Having lost at love, I explored my intellectual side and I drank greedily from that cup.

I always moved between the landscapes of my heart and mind and, in many ways, I was in love with love. Towards the end of high school, Milva would return to me, but it was too late. Besides, by then I had Mona, a fierce Milva rival. Mona of the cinnamon colored skin, the insatiable need for sex. God! We spent a torrid summer years after high school in each others arms. She even threw out her husband. We made love everywhere and every which way. Mona was the first woman would gave me her ass willingly. Life was good.

Over the years I searched for the ideal way to love, sometimes through the eyes of that 12-year-old and occasionally with the wisdom of a maturing young man.

We all have a 12-year-old inside, that adolescent boy or girl in search of the perfect love. Our stories may be different, but we bring them into all the aspects of adult relating, influencing our styles of communication, our conceptions of intimacy, our degree of sexual openness, our values, our hopes, and our dreams. And because our stories are different, we sometimes collide, confronted with the inevitable conflicts of love. Until we make these internal stories conscious and become fully willing to explore them with our partners -- with understanding, patience, and compassion – we will never know true intimacy.

Without intimacy, life withers away. As all the great poets have noted, we need each other, deeply, in order to survive. When faced with love, we find ourselves reflected in the eyes of another and, if we’re able, we can grow together through this stormy search for self. Through love, our souls can unfold – like a rare and beautiful flower. We embrace, we discover each other, we grow, but still the mystery remains.

I have never found the perfect love of my idealistic adolescence, but I found something far more rewarding-- my true self. And the voices I’ve encountered along the way -- the books I’ve read, the women I have known, and the stories we’ve shared along the way – these are the seeds from which the man who stands before has grown.

Yo soy el hijo del cariño y tambien de la dulzura.

The Sexual Subversive [Abstinence]

¡Hola! Everybody...
First: This week at the online magazine, Subversify, I wade into the Birther Bullshit. What? It had to be done! LOL Click here to read/ leave a comment.

Today’s post was inspired in part by a Facebook contact’s question…

* * *

-=[ Requiem for a Serial fornicator ]=-

Until we lose ourselves there is no hope of finding of finding ourselves.
-- Arthur Miller

Today I want to explore what happens to the way we relate if we awaken even a little bit. This is the kicker, the fire with which we test ourselves. When one person meets another and the interplay of energy takes place, it pushes to the surface all the little places we pushed back from the light. Whether it’s a history of violence, emotional bulimia, habitual criticism, or the trauma that comes from repeatedly having our trust betrayed -- these become like little bubbles that rise to the top, that come to the surface. What happens in a relationship is that your beloved becomes a mirror of yourself.

For most of my adult life my relationships with women were a series of dysfunctional interactions that either left me bruised and bleeding, or caused others much pain. My relationship history resembled a series of horrific car crashes. My way of relating to women was screwed totally and so when I decided to make changes in my life, the first thing I did was call a moratorium on romantic relationships. I knew I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, so I wanted to stop, look, listen, and learn a new way.

At some deeper level I realized that there was something I was looking for, or better out, I had a sense of lack -- as if a piece of me were kissing. I felt that at the core of my being there was a broken window with a fierce wind blowing through -- a void, if you will. I experienced this void as a primal wound, a profound but delusional sense of loneliness.

I am not speaking of the regular, run-of-the-mill variety -- the kind of loneliness we all encounter at some point or another. There’s this kind of loneliness that no matter how firmly wrapped we are in our lover’s embrace still manages to slither in for a brief stay every once in while.

If I were to be honest, there’s not much to say about loneliness, for it’s not a broad subject. Shit, even a child, alone in her room, can travel the complete range of loneliness, from border to border, in less time than it will take you to read this.

But though it may not be broad, it is deep. Loneliness, dearest, is a river deeper than the ocean. But even here there’s no mystery. The same precocious child is liable to fall quickly to the very bottom without even trying. And since the depths of loneliness cannot sustain human life, the child will swim to the surface, perhaps none the worse for wear.

Some of us, however, insist on bringing breathing aids with us for longer stays: sex, more sex, imaginary friends, drugs and alcohol, soul-corroding relationships, mind-numbing entertainment, virtuality, inflexible routines, and pets (pets, in my opinion, are some of the best enablers of loneliness). With the help of these aids, a poor soul can survive the airless profundity of loneliness long enough to experience its worst horror -- its duration.

I wanted a way out, some measure of, if not happiness, at least some serenity. I went almost two and a half years without a relationship and was sexually abstinent during that time (yup). For clarity’s sake, I define sexual abstinence as refraining from having sex with another human being.

One of the first things I learned during this time was that I couldn’t love another until I could love myself. Not an earth-shattering insight, huh? I’m sure many will immediately make the point that they love themselves, but there’s a need to look at this a little deeper. People think if they boost their self-esteem that this equals self love. However, let me ask you this: if what you perceive as your self is basically fucked up, isn’t boosting the self-esteem of something inherently flawed still fucked up? Or put more bluntly, tell me you don’t experience yourself as alone and separate at least some of the time.

In other words, truly learning to love yourself unconditionally is to accept yourself as you are, fearlessly exploring where you are causing your own suffering, learning how to move away from those patterns, and creating newer ways of relating. I’m sure we have plenty of arrogant people walking around “loving” themselves, but that's not the kind of love I’m talking about here, people.

So there I was trying love to myself unconditionally, warts and all, trying to uncover where I was causing my own pain and embarking on that long and hard road back to my original self. I took a clear look at and became willing to undo my character defects. Along the way, I learned to relate to women as human beings, rather than as objects of my desire and made life-long friends in the process. In taking away the relationship (“I need you”) and sex (“I want to fuck you”) agenda, allowed me the space to relate to women as friends, as people, as equals.

And it was a great discovery for me. I mean women are totally fascinating creatures with thoughts, perspectives, ideas, compassion, etc. Okay, I'm exaggerating a little here, I knew all this before, but the process of removing the “game,” allowed me to experience women in ways I never dreamed of before and as a result, my relationships changed for the better.

Well, time passed, I grew, I became more comfortable in my own skin, to borrow a phrase from a friend, and I thought I had made great progress. And you know what? I did! I learned for example, that I was acting scripts, some of which were written before I was born; that I had major trust issues, that I often resisted true intimacy because I was afraid of allowing people close to me (and then wonder why I felt alone); I encountered a fear that fueled my anger -- all this with an attitude of acceptance and unconditional love. In addition, I was in the process of living a more spiritually centered life and I like to think that made me a better person.

Then I met the woman who would eventually become my wife…

Oh boy! My marriage was one of the most challenging experiences. Don’t get me wrong, I loved and was loved in return; I grew in ways I never imagined as a result of my marriage and I still reap the rewards of that union. But remember all those things I mentioned working on? That I thought I had at least partially resolved? They all came back with a vengeance!

At first I couldn’t understand it, where were all these little monsters coming from? Why were all my ego centered goblins running rampant in my love life? Didn’t I work through that anger issue? And the trust thingee I thought I got rid of that little fucker. Like abandoned children, all my little inner monsters were wreaking havoc with the tidy picture I was attempting to construct.

As I said before, relationships act as a mirror to our deepest selves and those little gremlins running around in the dark corners of our psyches will come out to play as soon as we get close to someone. It is almost impossible for us to get to know ourselves alone. There are always blind spots, unexplored corners of our past and present lurking somewhere. In this way, relationships become a way for us to put to the test all that we have learned. A relationship, especially a romantic relationship, is the crucible in which we dissolve the impurities of our hearts. It is where the dross is turned into the golden thread with which we sew the tears in our hearts.

Genuine love lies in making relationship like a practice -- a sacred discipline -- in which two people agree to make (and change) agreements, explore honesty (true honesty), and questioning assumptions

For me, awakening, or living in a more conscious manner, is a process. Sometimes I'm in a groove and things flow, at other times, I slip and really make an asshole of myself in the process. However the point is the practice, not the perfection, or playing to some spiritual stereotype. The point, I guess, is that uncovering the heart means exposing the very core of the self. This is a scary move into unknown territory, even though it is a part of our inner selves that we are uncovering. The heart symbolizes feeling and intuition. Though we may be fearful, the true danger is in the death, not the exploration, of the heart. But I have learned that the uncovered heart contains both vulnerability and strength. Its strength perhaps lies precisely in that ability to open itself to itself, with an exquisite grace that invites the hearts of others to do so too.

Love,

Eddie

Till Pensions We Do Share and other Treacle Thoughts

Angsty.  I'm in the he declared his love, I declared mine so now he'll decide I'm not all that and I'm going to be heart broken stage.  Crap it sucks having that hamster in my head!  I. Over. Think. Everything.  Why my friends are still my friends is beyond me.  Oh yea...because I pretend I'm normal and don't share every crazy thought that goes through my head, that's why  Instead I save it for you my fine friends of the interwebz.

He lives out of my town.  He wants to move to my town.  In fact we've talked about him moving into my abode, ma maison, he and I.  I love the idea.  Mostly.  Then I think about what that means.  I haven't lived with a man for a very, very long time.  In fact I've rarely shared my gorgeous four poster bed with a man.  Mind you it is fairly new. It means sharing a kitchen, a bathroom, a tub (okay that's a good thing), a TV. TV shows!  It means sharing ideas of what's fun, what's wrong and what's cooking?  I honestly couldn't think of a third what's except cooking.  That's a problem right? It means I don't even know what living together looks like. I don't.  My one and only experience prior was terrible, so I can say with confidence I have NO idea what the fuck a good relationship looks like.

I own my little home.  It's not grandiose but it has two apple trees in the backyard and that says something.  I have been feeling that it might be good to get our own place.  Start new.  Start with OUR environment, not adapt to mine.  I'd rent mine out and we could rent together.  Buying together is much too big of a commitment if you ask me.

I live in Canada and that means after six months of living together we can qualify as common-law spouses.  I hate that.  I want us to have a pre-nuptial prior to moving in.  I want him to feel protected from the gold digging ho' I am.  *I kid.  No but seriously men get done wrong by shacking up with poor choices for women, and I don't want him have an inkling of doubt about my intentions for his millions. Okay maybe if he had millions I wouldn't be writing this.  Gotta tell the truth does I.   We both need to feel that what we've worked for won't have to be shared with our mates.  If we make it to old-age pension time together then heck ya when he kicks the bucket I'd like a piece - but them days are a ways away and I'll have earned it or vice versa because we did the time.

So I've departed from my early angst ridden hamster thoughts in the post I see.   Just like a woman to lose her train of thought huh.  I better go and contemplate the next text I send him.  It's either going to be "good a.m baby." or "wow my walk was awesome".   The first one sends a sweet loving message and the second an athletic tigress one. They say a picture says a 1000 words?  Okay half naked pic tiz.  Phew...that was easier than I thought.

The Adventures of a Sexual Subversive [Tell Me How it Feels]

¡Hola! Everybody…
The following is what I remember many years ago when I asked the question...

* * *

-=[ How Does it Feel? ]=-

So quiet now.
Soften yourself and listen.
Connected and motionless.

To the symphonic pulsing of our blood,
the crash of an eyelid,
the joyous trickle of a bead of sweat.

© 1977

Yup, in my naïveté, while I was in her, I asked the question and she looked at me in that singular way of hers -- that “look” that only experience and time can bestow on a woman’s beauty -- and she said…

I would love to tell you how it feels.

When I’m riding you out to the stars and your body is clustered in a point, and then it rockets away from you on waves of pleasure. I guess the ocean best expresses it best. The smell. The origin there: conceived and then burst into a billion cells. What I mean is we’ve all been intimate with the most profound creative experience: we’ve all been born.

I think that the people who are lost, that’s what they’re really most lost from. And sex. That is one of the simplest and most thrilling ways to get it back again…

Sometimes I think if I could make love once a week, that would take care of it. But then when that someone is around, I mean someone that I have feelings for, then I want to do it more. And then I think it’s mostly for affection. Then the coming -- the orgasm part -- is different. It’s a level that can be utterly satisfying, but I don’t have to have the stars. If I don’t need to come, I don’t. Then there are days when I wake up, and I know that at a certain point someone’s going to touch me on the shoulder, and I’m going to quake. There are those degrees. There’s that certain kind of thing that doesn’t make you knock your knees. And then the one that grabs you so hard and takes you all the way there. I think it’s the easiest way to understand a state of grace. And then when you begin to scream and shout because you know I’ve got it, then that’s the best. I’ve met very few men who can adequately gauge a wave.

To be honest, I came to the point where I really didn’t care to make love to a lot of men because it takes so long to learn someone in that way. It always manages to feel like such a struggle, and then the best are almost always the ones you’re going to love exponentially.

I used to be so afraid of being sexy. Now it really tickles me. I like to get to the point where I can wear a slip. It still takes me a while to get completely down. And I really only can with someone I like a lot. It’s like a dance. There’s the step you do for yourself. And the step you do for your lover. And the step for the audience too.

I guess certain people like certain things. I knew one who would grab my hair just above the wedge and pretend that he was going to touch that in the triangle there. I loved that feeling of a tease. It wasn’t technique. It was as if he were learning to play an instrument well.

Most men will tell you that the biggest thrill is to make it good for a woman and I can see how they would think that. I’d really like to know what other people feel.

Kissing is my favorite part.

I like to stop before it all explodes and just lie together, breathing together, like we are now. If I close my eyes and concentrate on what the space in pussy is holding, I can feel like I have a penis. It’s like being both sexes at the same time. And it is. [we both laugh at this]

Society definitely conditions us to be shy. I mean women. I think about those studies about women’s sexual peaks at thirty and I bet it really has more to with it actually taking a decade to overcome a certain kind of timidity or shame.

Before I called you that first time, I thought about you passionately for days. Then I called my friend and asked for your number and then I called you and casually invited you to meet me. I was practically throwing up. The first time I had done something like that, the man in question couldn’t deal with me being the instigator, or taking matters into my own hands, and he misread me, got all insecure, or maybe he saw me as a slut. I don’t know, I just know I lost interest then. It did help me understand the social aspect of the dating scene -- what men have to go through. Meet a girl, make a date, get laid. It’s terrifying. On the flip side, women are expected to ride along submissively, being sexually ignored, ungratified, or abused.

Until one day maybe she sees a freshly washed sheet on the clothesline with the dry air blowing through it and she decides that’s the way she wants to feel…

Love,

Eddie

The possibility of an L word

In a conversation with a friend of mine today I realized my crazy life hadn't interfered with my blogging rather my new PVR had!  I have replaced one outlet with another.  I'm not pleased with the replacement.  I would much rather connect with you than than turn off my brain cells while watching reality TV, so tonight I'm refusing to turn it on.

The picture to the left is a pencil app. that I applied to a picture I took today.  My biggest celebrity crush is on Steven Tyler and his feathers rock!  I had a few applied today in my homage to him.  Well not exactly true, I got them because I haven't yet seen any Western Canadian women rocking them and I wanted to be the first!

As I mentioned in my last post I'm very close to doing the biggie with my boyfriend.  Ya that's right peeps...doin' the move in.  We have to talk about it some more but both of us are anxious to spend more time together and this would obviously allow for it.

I really like him and damn it I think I could say the Big L word in a quiet moment.  First person I've come close to feeling that with since my big ole' long term, which ended a looooong time ago.

When I met this dude I couldn't really keep my hands to myself.  That's not the norm for me.  I don't usually feel that level of attraction at first go.  He's very hot whatever that means to you.  I'd say a mix of alpha and beta qualities.  He could get anyone he wants, yet he wants not only a sexual equal but a woman with qualities and values he admires.  He says we are a match.  I believe he's right.  He's a bit enigmatic at times, which for me works.  I can't have him all in my back pocket or I'll get bored.

Time will tell they say.  We shall see...

The Outlaw of Sex [Great Lovers]

¡Hola! Everybody…
Ultimately, we're all fools for love... LOL

* * *

-=[ Great Lovers ]=-
Listen to learn and learn to listen.
-- Anonymous

We all like to pay lip service to this thing we call love. We like to say it -- a lot. For example, we like to say, “I love you.” We want to be loved – or rather to have other people use the word in reference to us (“S/he loves me”). I submit that what we don’t like is the action of love. I hate to burst your bubble people, but Santa Claus doesn’t exist and love isn’t a feeling. Nope, love is a verb -- love is an action.

One of the reasons I am so amazed at some of the shenanigans on the internet is that I find it hard to understand how people can get caught up in the illusory trap of “falling” in love with someone they’ve never met. I certainly can understand developing some affection and having a feeling for a photograph and internet profile, but falling in love?

::blank stare::

In my book, that’s grounds for having someone committed. And yours truly isn't exempt. I will admit to having fallen into that trap myself. Photographs are fun and they never really let you down like real people do. For example, today's blog photo is one of a series of photos someone sent to me a few years ago. No, I didn't fall in love with her, but I sure would love to fuck her. LOL In actuality, the photos are a fake. Rather, they are photos of someone other than the person who sent them.

Those who are “great lovers” know that within the framework of being in love there’s passion, desire, hope, wonder, appreciation, enjoyment, affection, ecstasy – the whole gamut of the most positive emotions and energy states. However, as I said before: love isn’t a feeling, it’s an action, an act of will. All the feelings in the world and $2 won't get you on a NYC subway – which is another way of saying that feelings ain’t jack. Love isn’t texting someone a pic of your shaved vagina/ erect penis with the caption “thinking of you.” Love isn’t copying-and-pasting one of those cheesy email forwards to everyone in your email contacts folder. In fact, I would say sending me any email forward is actually an act of hate. However, I do appreciate photos of your pussy/ ass, so keep ‘em coming champ.

I’m kidding! But the point I’m trying to make is that when we truly love someone we extend ourselves to the person and for that person. That’s the act of love, or love action. It’s not clicking a mouse, or sending a text. Love is an act of will for the benefit of another person with no expectations. In more technical terms, when we love someone we extend our ego boundaries – close down our defenses – to include that other person as part of our identity. In a way, love impels us to merge with another individual, in the process creating an enduring bond. This is the part that scares many of us because severing such a bond can cause a lot of pain.

It’s the same when you experience a deep, knee-knocking, grand mal seizure-like orgasm: it’s a transcendent spiritual experience: your ego defenses come tumbling down and for that brief moment, your sense of self expands to include so much more than the small, fragile, fearful mini me (ego). As a side note, this is one of the reasons why organized religions put so many taboos on sex, because ultimately sexual energy can be one of the most transformative, liberating, and spiritual experiences.

But I’m getting off track here…

The first way, I feel, that great lovers express their love is through something simple and obvious. What is at the heart of the experience of love that's so simple, so basic that is so easy to overlook is listening -- listening and attending. Sadly, at least in my experience, very few people attempt to hone their listening skills and at best listen at a very superficial level. Our society offers very few opportunities that teach listening at deeper levels.

We are born to bond. Without bonding, infants literally wither and die. As adults it’s the same for us: without connection we die physically, psychologically/ emotionally, spiritually. We are human and the defining experience of being human is bonding. We are wired for connection -- we’re walking/ talking neurological feedback loops. We become human through bonding, and as adults, bonding doesn’t end. As we mature, we continue to evolve where we can bond with a special someone in a healthy manner. This bonding demands the mastery of certain skills, skills that allow us to make contact, to establish relationships, and communication skills that promote understanding.

How do we do this?

The simple answer is by entering into our lover’s world. By matching and resonating with our loved one’s way of thinking and feeling, we begin to understand him or her. Empathy, a key emotional skill, is the ability to see the world through another’s eyes without losing ourselves in the process. This is part of the act of love -- or love action -- and great lovers fine-tune their empathy to high levels. On a superficial level, there’s listening, but at the more profound levels there’s listening in order to understand and that takes effort, time, and consideration. It takes a commitment to honesty and a willingness to become transparent (or translucent), so that the energy of love can shine through us with as little distortion as possible.

Active listening is difficult, it takes practice. Like sex, it’s not a natural act, it must be practiced as you would practice a musical instrument. In my experience, too many people are too caught up in their small needs and neuroses to strive toward being a great lover. Most of us, it seems, would rather just sit back, send photos of our nether regions, and call that love.

Love,

Eddie

The Friday Sex Blog [Escape from Intimacy]

¡Hola! Everybody…
I think we need more stuff like this:

The Clap-Off Bra from Randy Sarafan on Vimeo.

LOL!

You know the drill: if it’s Friday, it’s all about sex…

* * *

-=[ Intimacy & Relationships ]=-

Ahhhhh… Intimacy, the brass ring of coupling.

I’m going to be confrontational today and say right off the bat that most people wouldn’t know true intimacy even if it bit them on the ass. In fact, most people don’t want genuine intimacy, they want their needs met; that’s a horse of a different color, folks.

And I say this fully aware that I am a man writing about intimacy in a sexual context and that many women would perceive that as an impossible situation. LOL! In addition, I don’t even own a cat and probably have no business pontificating about relationships in the first place.

However, I have found that what people term intimacy is in actuality a perverted (distorted?) notion of what genuine intimacy entails. Contrary to the stereotype, men have no monopoly on the fear of intimacy. Women also fear intimacy, though in different ways than men. The same goes for emotions. Contrary to popular belief, women aren’t more emotionally aware than men, they just [mis]handle it differently. Emotional indulgence, just as its opposite -- emotional aversion -- does not equal emotional intelligence.

I have been single by choice for about 8-9 years -- since my divorce. This is a conscious choice, not an accident. I am not “between relationships.” This is part of who I am -- I am single. Many people don’t get this. They see it as you’re-single-until-the-next-relationship kinda/ sorta thingee. After all, it isn’t normal to not be in a relationship. The whole reason for existence is to hook up, no?

sheesh!

I’ll tell you why I am single, or at least part of the reason why I’m single. I am single because I have yet to meet someone who’s willing to be truly intimate. Women tell me all the time they want intimacy but what they really mean is that they have needs and I have to fulfill those needs somehow and when I do fulfill those needs that means we’re “intimate.” Of course, they don’t phrase in that way, but that’s what they mean.

I know.

Most people don’t even have a relationship with themselves to begin with. The search for “The One” is scary in this context. Do you people even realize the amount of pressure you put on a relationship these days? It’s as if I have to fulfill this vast range of roles and make you happy to boot! Lover, husband, father, mentor, mentee, soul mate, financial advisor, therapist, and counselor -- the list goes on and on.

Is it no small surprise that many relationships crash and burn? I think the first thing we need to look at is realistic expectations -- what we call in psychology reality testing. I do not want to, nor can I, make you happy. If you’re not happy to begin with, I damn sure cannot take you there. Nor do I want that responsibility even if I could pull off that miracle. I don’t want to be your all, your everything, that shit is fucking crazy and scary. Just thinking about that takes away any motivation I have to become intimate with you. Please, go find Daddy somewhere else! I ain’t it. Unless, of course, if I’m pulling your hair and smacking your ass while you’re screaming my name, then I’m your daddy. LOL!

I'm kidding...

Which brings me back to intimacy in relationships. People are always crying about the loss of spontaneity and intimacy in relationships. I know I’m going to burst some bubbles here but I’m going to say flat out that Santa Claus doesn’t exist, Snow White was a fairy tale, and intimacy takes work.

I’m being honest here ladies, when I say that I don’t care how physically attractive you are, after 2-3 years of steady fucking, you will occasionally be considered a chore and not a pleasure. I will be sitting with a friend somewhere and he’ll ask me if I can go to the game with him and I’ll turn to him with a look resignation on my face and tell him, “I can’t man, I gotta go home and fuck the wife.” Any man who tells you different is a fucking liar.

Spontaneity and intimacy -- true intimacy -- takes work and risking all there is in that pretty heart of yours. It takes practice, lots of practice. If you think that I will find having sex with you an attractive prospect after watching you scream insanely at the children, or nagging me to fix the fucking fence, then you done lost your mind. Don’t’ get me wrong I’m sure you’re struggling just as hard with any attraction for me when my idea of funny is farting and putting you in a headlock.

So, intimacy is work. It’s about risking it all and being vulnerable in profoundly scary ways. By the way, intimate sex is not the only form of sex and can get very boring very quickly. Sometimes -- in fact, a lot of the time -- you have to fuck. In any case, healthy sexuality begins with understanding and accepting yourself, your body, and sensual and sexual aspects of yourself. There are two powerful negative teachings about sex we all internalize to some degree. The first is that sex is bad; exciting, but bad. Sex is good only in the context of marriage or an “intimate” relationship. The second is that sex is exclusively about intercourse.

We here in the [un]Common Sense blog believe that sex is a good thing in life and sexuality is an integral -- even spiritual -- part of being a person. Sexuality, at least for me, includes everything from the flirtatious glance to a gentle caress, from passionate, even violent, intercourse, to loving and tender afterplay.

The real psychologically healthy question then is how to express sexuality so that it enhances your self-esteem, deepens your ability to be genuinely intimate, and increases satisfaction in your intimate relationship.

Love,

Eddie

Valentine's Day in Miami for Single Schmucks

Cartoon by yours truly drawn at The Abbey, South Beach in '07.

I hate Valentine's Day. No, no, not because I'm single, but because every freakin' establishment has some kind of Valentine's Day special that makes it impossible for single people to have a normal dinner or drink anywhere. Everything is for two: dinner for two, drinks for two, hotel room for two, massage for two ... bla bla bla. What's next? Colonoscopies? Yeah, whatever. On this holiday, try making a reservation for yourself or a group of friends and you'll be treated like a leper.

Surely, there must be something for single people to do on Valentine's Day here in the Magic City. How about these exciting options?

• Dinghy out to the "Piano Bar" on Biscayne Bay and have a picnic for one.
• Go to an AA meeting. You're bound to meet someone perfectly codependent there.
• Hang out with the pervs under the Julia Tuttle causeway. They get it; they aren't welcome anywhere either.
• Make a dinner reservation at The Forge for two then pretend you were stood up and make a scene. See feathers ruffle. OMG!
  

Ok, seriously. I'm kidding! Here are some actual legit options for those of us who aren't in relationships.

BOWLING
Nothing says "screw you, love" like slamming a heavy ball against hapless pins. Splitsville at Sunset Place in South Miami isn't catering to couples but to all lovers of bowling. Expect the following on Monday, February 14: $3 per person per game, $2 shoe rental, $5 well liquors, starting at 4 PM until close. Plus additional happy hour specials 4 to 7 PM. And if you're in the mood to celebrate singlehood with bubbly, consider 50% off premium champagne on this special day.

MOVIES
Thank goodness for Coral Gables Art Cinema, a Sex and the Beach favorite, because after years of no cinematheques, we now we have independent, alternative movies in the City Beautiful once again, with easy, inexpensive parking next door. It's cool, civilized, smart and an utterly refreshing escape from the every day. Imagine going to a movie in Miami-Dade with no chongas from Hialeah making out with their papis while smacking gum in the seat behind you. All this without having to pay the $15 ass-rape parking fees of South Beach.

On Valentine's Day, you won't want to miss the 9 PM showing of My Dog Tulip, an animated film about a confirmed British bachelor who gives up on love and finds a great companion in an adopted dog. The film, based on the novel by J.R. Ackerley, features the voices of Isabella Rossellini, Christopher Plummer and the late Lynn Redgrave.

SINGIN' THE BLUES
It's business as usual at Tobacco Road on Monday, February 14, as they'll be most likely recovering from their big Valentine's Day bash on Saturday. So if you're feelin' blue, go lend an ear to Big Papa E at Miami's oldest bar. It's free ... yes, you heard that right. No cover!

DOUCHE YOUR SOUL
When Jane Austen wrote about truths universally acknowledged, she obviously forgot to mention that you would never be bored by the characters who show up at Club Deuce in South Beach. I don't care what day of the year it is, Club Deuce is an alkaline cleanser for your acidic soul. And just like the Catholic Church, the Deuce takes in all us lonely, wayward idiots without judgment. You needn't wear your Sunday best, but leave the plastic at home. It's cash only and no fake people, either.

MOONLIGHT MUSIC
I'm pretty sure that "music under the stars" was an inalienable right under the U.S. constitution for all people -- not just couples. I almost hesitate to recommend this, but I love the Deering Estate and at $20 a pop for a groovy harpist, it just seems like a really cool thing to do, regardless. Grab your friends and fill up the picnic basket, but leave the coolers at home. They're not allowed.