I’ve always known, and said, that this work of bringing people to the well of eros, is for those who have tasted the well and know the route there.

Then it would be no wonder that business is slow these days. Thank god for my few loyal fans.

I have forgotten the taste of the well. No, that’s not true. I remember the taste, the feel of it, all too acutely. My thirst hounds me, brings tears to my eyes, but my feet seem unable to find the path. My skin remembers the tingle, my breath remembers the fullness, my thighs remember the surrender. My heart remembers the wonder of the universe.

But I am dry, very dry. I have not been there in too long, and I have nothing left to give.

Yesterday, on the table, receiving the sweet hands of a girl friend, I had a taste. Like a few drops of water on the lips of a desert traveler. And that taste of arousal brought tears. Just a few of them, but harbingers of many more to come. I remembered – no wonder I avoid it.

It would be quite easy to spend some time making love to myself – warm bath, oils, dancing, silky touch, rich music, my own skilled and loving hands – but I avoid it. That level of arousal would bring up so much emotion that – well, it’s just too fucking lonely. When I go that deep I need support. I need a connection to the present time and place. To reality. To another human soul, who cares about me.

I noticed this yesterday, dancing. Great world tribal music, open wood floor, people around, my body moving in ways I can never predict – but even so, I was not ‘letting go’.  As soon as I asked myself why, the answer was there – because if I did, I would wail. So I settled for a few discreet tears, kept moving, and left early. It was a beautiful evening to walk home.

And this morning I reflect on hope. Hope, it seems, is the only things that keeps us out of despair. Set hope aside, give it up, and there you are. So here I am. I give up. I stop pushing the river. I stop trying to make something happen that is not happening.

And is that not the spiritual path? Accepting life as it is? No wonder we avoid it. It hurts.

This morning I reflect on the possibility that my era of lovers is over. It was a great 4 decades. It’s quite possible that I will not find another. One who is both eager to learn and stands on his own. One who is both confident and humble. It’s an odd combination, that, eh? If you have a hard time understanding it, compare it in your mind to low self esteem and arrogance in the same person.

Probably they always go together anyway, but that is beyond the scope of this journal. Hell, that’s probably what I am. Arrogant and ashamed at the same time. Hell, that’s probably what we all are.

But hope – it was always there in my pocket, keeping despair at bay. Now it is gone, and what was kept at bay is now in my lap.

This entry was posted on Friday, June 20th, 2008 at 4:59 pm and is filed under just life. 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.