A friend shared a profound essay recently, and since then I’ve mulled over her insights, the kind that can only be described as contemplative, juicy, sensual, and rich; the sort of essay that I wish I’d written myself, had I thought of it first. The gist was about the sex, and our cultural pre-occupation with all things sexual, including the ‘less sexy’ benefits of sex. When asked to identify the latter, she refuses. How absurd our focus is on the health benefits to the exclusion of deep, primal and soulful manifestions of sexuality, she bemuses, when what we really need to focus on is making love to life itself. Enough with this measuring our worth by how frisky we can become, calistenic queens and kings knocking it out on the throne of sexual competition. It’s time we own the core of who we are, procreative, creative spiritual and sensual beings. I was awed. I was inspired. I was jealous. Read more...