Each one of us exists and is conceived, through the actual act of making love.
That 'act' may be less than loving at times. But if we fathom the idea that something that has been labeled as wrong, as shameful in just about every religion in the world, even to the point that celibacy is celebrated as a path to enlightenment, the whole of humanity is shrouded by this blanket of shame around sex.
Making love has sadly been reduced to a commodity, a transaction, a trade-off. Something that is potentially so sacred, has become something that has little value, a release of tension, a need, a reassurance that one is still loved. So many meanings. One could go on and on.
Because we have not been taught its value and its potential. Something inside us can feel it, can feel this unbridled potential of love, so we seek it more and more. And we are continually disappointed or just accept sex for something we just do with our bodies.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850) wrote in his poem ‘Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood’, that we come in as ‘Trailing clouds of glory' and ‘Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting'.
This potential we can sense but may not even be consciously aware of lies deep in our psyche, and as Wordsworth was alluding to, we instinctively desire to return to the 'trailing clouds of glory, to our original source.
To me, the art of conscious slow sex has been a remembering. A dismantling, a taking away, not an adding on of who I am. Therefore I never identify as a 'tantric lover', 'tantric teacher', or 'tantric anything'. That is far too concrete, too heavy, too packaged, and too descriptive for something that is indescribable. What I experience is a returning to my original nature, to something more in the realm of eternal silence, to love so vast it has no boundaries, it is impersonal. I cannot own it or grasp it.
There is less of 'me', the identity of 'me' falls away. The veils that 'protect' the personality, if one can allow them to fall. Sometimes they are walls, and to take the wall of protection down brick by brick can be the most vulnerable, most terrifying yet the most liberating thing. And it can only happen in the space of safety and trust with another. We all have come from expanded consciousness, from love, from this eternal silence. And a yearning to return to that is inbuilt. Yet this forgetting that Wordsworth speaks of, this 'sleep' can be awakened through the act of anything that allows these walls or veils to fall, in an atmosphere of inner stillness. We only have to desire it and know that it is possible.
And at the very least, to approach love, to see making love as a sacred act. And to hold the vulnerable feelings that come through like a precious little bird, so delicate, so fine, sometimes so fleeting, that what was once held in tension inside our bodies, our minds, and our hearts, through trauma or timidity, finally can be given flight. To be set free so that our spirits can soar as they are meant to.
And in that, the by-product is a lasting connection. You cannot let the veils fall, be there in all your nakedness, and not feel this. You have both traversed the inner landscape of love. You have been intrepid travelers. Your body, being, and heart can never forget how you held each other around every bend.
Love, in all its forms, is truly a Sacred act. And one I believe, we must revere with every inch of our heart and soul.
Join me for the Making Love Retreat, in the beautiful location of Noosa, Sunshine Coast, Australia, where I can support you both safely explore the depth of connection that is possible and truly experience Love as a Sacred Act.
If this resonated with you, or if you have experienced similar, I'd love to know your thoughts. Feel free to comment below.
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