Lust, Libido, and Longing

 This photo does yummy things to my insides. Stirring, isn't it?

This photo does yummy things to my insides. Stirring, isn't it?

The first step to heal an addiction is to admit you have one in the first place.  I'm still deep in the trenches doing the hardest work recovering from a devastating addiction I did have, but that's another story. This story is about a healthy one.  I have an addiction to desire and...I never want to heal from these three beauties; lust, libido, and longing. Ever.  

I want to feel the ache between my loins just before being entered. I want to experience the full-on turn-on of oncoming orgasm.  I want to be consumed by the shudder and the shake of simultaneously coming with my partner. I want to linger in the liquid stew of sweat and semen as I slowly return from where I've just been.  I want sex and yet...I don't.  

Having recently discovered Karen Connelly's writing in the July issue of the Shambhala Sun magazine and having devoured her article (I think my body actually hummed as I read it), I've been thinking a lot about my desire for sex or more accurately put, my lack thereof. I don't think I'm peri-menopausal as my periods are still raging rivers of red five days a month.  I don't think my body is losing interest in long lovely romps or quick quivers of flesh. I do know something is happening as I get older and I think it has more to do with why I have sex as opposed to how or how often I have it.    

How I have sex is pretty standard. Nothing too kinky or out of the ordinary.  A few kisses. Foreplay.  An equal exchange of pleasure given and pleasure received. Of course, certain positions will warrant certain outcomes, but usually I know what's coming...or not.   

Why I have sex isn't standard at all.  I have sex because I want to experience the divine move through me.  I want to feel the noiseless void of utter ecstasy.  I want to feel everything and nothing in that 3-15 seconds of being connected to something much larger than myself. I want to feel lighter than air, hotter than fire, emptier yet more full than I was just before I let go. And yes, I'd love for my partner to feel these things as well, but that's another story. 

Sex just to have it because it feels good or because it's healthy for a relationship or because someone's horny just doesn't do it for me anymore. Yes, I can and do have sex because of these things, but I want so much more. And so much more takes time; to explore with wide-open curiosity, to revel in one's vulnerability, to be ravished by shared hunger, and to be ultimately seen.  Sex. What a beautiful, fucked-up way of getting closer to knowing who we really are.   

I'm guessing that's what this desire for lust, libido, and longing in my life is really all about - becoming more intimate with letting go. I want to feel fully alive while I'm alive and these three things remind me I'm only human for a very short time. As I get on in years, I want more bliss, more euphoria, more nothingness, more floating and soaring, more experiences that connect me to that deep well of knowing inside me. Letting go, even if it's only for a few moments, is what I truly desire.

Who would have thought that letting go is an addiction that heals?  I'm okay with being addicted to what prepares me for what will be the absolute and final orgasm -my death.