A Hard Morning

I woke up this morning with the most beautiful hard-on I have had in a long time. Full, and bursting with life, I felt like if I turned over, you could spin me like a top.

Finally, an experience I can claim women can't understand. It has been a while since I woke up this hard. It is not a particularly sexual feeling - there is no need for any kind of satisfaction or release. It is satisfying just to feel the energy buzzing in my body and pushing outward - as if the thickness yearned to expand and fill the universe. I feel the pleasure of it pushing against the sheets, strong, bold, incapable of hiding.

Why does it feel so risky to write about my sexuality on the world wide web? I'm not revealing anything someone couldn't have guessed. Am I afraid of losing readers who don't want to know I have a penis? Am I afraid of breaking a taboo? (who, me??) Do I want to pretend I am just a mind, and my body is just an uninteresting machine carrying my head around?

Since I started this blog, I've struggled with just how honest I want to be. The fearful part of me does not want to offend anyone, nor allow someone to laugh at me. Yet it rankles me to have to be selective about who I admit I am. It reeks of the days when I was ashamed, when such things could not be spoken of, when mother was listening on the other side of the door.

Yet I feel there is some tremendous gift awaiting me if I put all of myself out there, even if no one is reading this blog. *I* know I have revealed myself - I have nothing left to hide. If I chat with someone who thinks I reveal too much about myself, I can say, "Boy, you should read my blog!" Of course, they will when they go home, then pretend the next day they didn't. Isn't that what we all want, to know and be known?

I long to integrate all that I am, to shed the right and the wrong, the fear and the ego, and just let be what is. Isn't that, after all, what the universe does? The sun doesn't turn its face - it shines on the sexual and the mundane, on the lawyer and the hamburger-flipper, on the suicide bomber's morning as well as the innocent people he will kill today. This, to me, is the meaning of the phrase "God is love". The universe does not ask who deserves to breathe its fresh air this morning - it freely gives regardless of our judgments.

The hard-on has faded, and now I can tuck it away and go out among the other penises and vaginas properly hiding under business clothes, in a world where we have all apparently agreed on the fantasy that certain parts of us do not exist.

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 7/10/2006 11:23:00 PM
Gene
You are just beautiful
that's all

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 7/9/2006 5:24:00 PM
wow, you are brave to put that out there. and I like what you said about it.