Some arranged marriages work out really well. His didn’t. 40 years together, a couple of grown kids, and a decade of no intimacy. But then, that describes plenty of marriages which were chosen, doesn’t it? At any rate, for him, the arranged part seems significant. I believe him.

He spent those years working really hard, in a new culture and new language, providing for family. And now, realizing something is missing, is ready to find out what it is.

There’s a sweet simplicity to his quest. He wants to get over his inhibitions. That’s it. Not desperately looking for the mysteries of the universe, or grasping for everything he resents not having. Just his inhibitions. We can handle that.

The first time, we mostly talk. Getting comfortable takes time for anyone. For him, longer. We hug, clothed, he tells me his story, his virginity at marriage. We exchange some touch of hands, face, arms, more hugs, a little instruction on how to invite your breath back down into your belly to help you relax.

He’s awesome! Bright, respectful, sincere student, eager to learn. I always look forward to seeing him, and my own generosity comes out.

The next time, he talks again about how odd it is to be with a woman other than his wife, how all touch in his culture is viewed as sexual. Actually, that’s all touch with a non-family female. Hugging mom and sister is ok. Hugging men is fine, and normal. No such thing as even touching hands unless it’s leading to sex. And therefore, a simple caress of arm or hand is highly arousing.

I draw a little diagram. Sex – what do you mean by sex – intercourse, right? That’s what most people mean when they say ‘sex’. So that’s over here at this end of the road. And saying hello is over here at this end. After saying hello may be a hug. Maybe holding hands. Somewhere along that road might be a caress of the face, or a long look in the eyes. Or a kiss. Somewhere along that road may be dancing and feeling each other’s bodies close by. Maybe a back rub without the shirt. Or without both shirts.

Wow, it’s getting warm in here. On with the story!

Still going down this road. At some point there may be getting naked. Maybe touch of genitals. One or both. Or kissing them. At the end of this road, as we have drawn it, is intercourse.

Drawing a circle around the last step, intercourse - Some people call only this part sex, and everything else just working up to it. Some people believe that if you don’t get all the way here, nothing else counts. Drawing a bigger circle – some people call this part ‘sex’, but not that part. Drawing a bigger circle – and some people call all this part ‘sex’ and not that part. Certainly any of it can feel sexy or not, depending on the circumstances. And depending on whether you want to ‘have sex’ or ‘avoid sex’ you draw that line between what is and what isn’t ‘sex’ wherever you need it to be in order for you to get away with whatever you’re trying to get away with. [I was an expert at that in high school]

So, when you grew up, no one knew that the road was anything but a straight line. This end to that end - no stopping in the middle. No one got a chance to find out that any of these might branch off to some place entirely different. Or might just stop.

IF YOU BELIEVE that one step on the road takes you straight to the end, then guess what – the entire road is sex! - and so better not step on it at all!

BUT if you believe that it’s not really a road but a great big field to play in, then you can go all over the place without the assumption of ending up in a certain spot. Then a hug is just a hug, a back rub is just a back rub. A person is just a person.

A person is just a person. That’s the crux of it, isn’t it?

And so, I tell him, we are going to explore these things out in the field here, and see where they branch off to, and not worry about the road. Very good, he says.

The next time, more teaching on how to touch, how to give your attention to your enjoyment, how to relax. Answering questions he never got to ask. He is progressing well.

The next time, as we sit and check in, he mentions that he has never been naked with anyone other that his wife, and he would eventually like to get comfortable with that.

Ok, then. Let’s get naked! We are like a couple of kids – wow! – look at that! – look at this! We laugh, we show off, we play with more touch. Do you like this? How about fingernails? Can I lie down on your back? Is this too heavy?

Nothing sexy here, nor genital contact. I choose not to take it there. Part of the point of this is to be clear that naked does not have to mean sex, remember?

He is refreshed and content, and looks forward to next time. Me too.

Next time – today - we go for more touch. He’s on the massage table, naked again. He’s lovely! I talk him through it, making sure he is comfortable. I tell him I am going to touch him from head to toe. I’m going to include his genitals, because they are part of his body, but not focus on them. Does that sound right to him? Very good, he says.

His pubic hair is deep silky black, with a few silver strands that shine in the black like diamonds. They are beautiful! I tell him so.

Remember the question you had the first time – why do people get massages? What do you think now? I think I’ll be getting some more, he says.

OK! We’ve come a long way from the first inhibitions! He’s ready for graduation. Wants to go to a nudist club or some place where he can be with people. I have just the place. It’s a small, low-key swingers event, with naked swimming. Very down to earth, welcoming people there.

It’ll be in a few weeks. I’ll let you know how it goes!

And my heart? I fucking LOVE this work! The chance to be generous, relaxed, appreciated, to be part of this soul’s journey.

Always, there is an underground spring of water, waiting for me to take the lid off. When there is no one to drink at the spring, or when the pilgrim doesn’t know how to take the water in, it can’t flow. Just sort of sits there in a puddle, inside.

But when a person receives deeply, drinks it in, the waters flow. There is nothing so sweet. Today, they flow through me, and they wash my insides clean.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 4th, 2007 at 5:14 pm and is filed under Sessions. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.