“Of all fires love is the only inexhaustible one.” ~ Pablo Neruda
I feel like I am at a crossroads. I’ve been here for some time now and I’m getting a little impatient. As the shadows of my former life fade, a vast uncertainty lies before me:
Do I move full-time to Los Angeles this year? Next year? Ever?
Do I travel to Peru, Thailand, India or somewhere else?
Do I continue acting?
Do I continue coaching?
Do I lead workshops?
Do I take more classes?
Do I keep writing articles? A book?
Do I give in to necessity and find that secure 9-5 with health benefits?
Do I have children now? In five years? Ever?
The more I get caught in the questions, the more trapped/confused/angry/scared I feel. Survival mode kicks in and I start making plans, solving problems and fixing my circumstances. I busy myself with menial tasks that are suddenly of great importance. I fixate on anything that seems to move my life ahead, just like a responsible 32-year-old woman should.
I am a woman in control—pearls on, belt cinched, lipstick unsmudged.
Then a hefty kick in the ass arrives (or sometimes just good sex, though the two often go hand-in-hand these days) and I remember that I have chosen an Orgasmic Life—a life of magic, play, spontaneity, curiosity, adventure, growth and above all, a moment-by-moment willingness to surrender to desire.
And the moment I begin to do anything, I have moved from faith to mistrust. From authenticity to masquerading. From being to performing.
Control forces us to do. Surrender requires that we are done.
In the realm of Orgasm, life does its work through you—but you don’t do a damn thing. In fact, the moment you start to do, you actually get in the way of the greater intelligence unfolding from within.
Unfortunately, our achievement-minded society doesn’t think highly of surrender. In fact, those who choose to live on the edge of uncertainty are often labeled as “cowards”, “irresponsible”, “weak” or “pussies.” We overvalue being on top and ignore, scoff at, condemn or even abuse anything that is seemingly “beneath us.”
We all want to fuck life hard and fast…but no one wants to admit their desire to be fucked.
Yet here’s the sad part—for as much as we walk around brandishing our overdeveloped cocks and boasting about our latest conquests, we are actually starving to be well-fucked and thoroughly conquered. Really. Man, woman, gender neutral, hermaphrodite—it doesn’t matter. The art of receiving a good fuck from life is a human experience and is the gift of our inherent femininity.
Surrender requires a hefty amount of vulnerability. We must be willing to let our guard down. We must be willing to explore what we want. We must be willing to unapologetically ask for it. We must be willing to sit in the fire as we watch the tricks, defenses and games we use to hide, burn away, so we can create the space to receive that which we most desire.
And yet, as my friend Pamela Madsen says, this soft, wet, messy, fucked-open vulnerability is “the place from where sexy flows.” It’s the void where unlimited Orgasm resides and where only the brave and truly powerful can unleash Her onto the world. It is unconditional love.
We think we are starving for love and we troll dating sites and bars searching for that person or experience that we think is going to feed us. We think, perhaps if we fuck it open, it will give us the spiritual nutrition we seek.
We are not starving for love.
We are bloated with love. In fact, we have years of backed up love rotting in our systems. We are just stingy, prideful and frightened motherfuckers who think that we are “giving something up” if we reveal our hands first. We hide behind seduction, perfectionism and poker faces, all while silently choking with shame on our tears of gratitude and awe (that have turned bitter with resentment over the years of blame and victimhood).
No, we are not starving for love, but for the nourishment that comes from being fucked open and sharing our own abundance. When you meet someone and fall in love, that person isn’t giving you their love; they are giving you permission to finally, finally express what’s been locked up inside you. And that expression demands nothing less than the fullest surrender of your pride, anger, shame, fear, envy, hatred and any other stagnant energy sitting on top of your orgasm.
These emotions aren’t wrong. Pride, anger, etc. are all part of the journey and when they are acknowledged and fully felt, can be alchemized as fuel for desire and can deepen intimacy with yourself and the people in your life.
Surrender is a practice, just like anything else in life.
There’s a reason why savasana is considered a master pose and why those who hide behind their busyness pop right up out of it at the end of yoga class (myself included). There’s a reason why many try Orgasmic Meditation once, only to run as far from it as possible afterwards. We seek to do the next thing that takes us out of that place of no-thingness…that uncertain void…the ultimate death of all we thought we were.
And yet, on the other side is the sweetest grace you’ve ever known: absolute communion with your soul. The work is to release the conditions that say, “I will only surrender if…(fill in the blank with whatever is it to which you are attaching your happiness).”
So I’ve given up bargaining with Her, released trying to discover the next right move and allowed her to penetrate my innermost being so that pure, unadulterated Orgasm can flow from me in gratitude and grace. And it’s within the healing balm of grace that love is a choice, freedom is inevitable and surrender is the holiest of prayers.
PS: Stay tuned for the upcoming article in my new elephantjournal.com column, Orgasmic Living, entitled “Ashes on the Playa: An Uncensored Narrative of Love and Surrender.”
PPS: To learn more about Pamela Madsen’s work, including an upcoming retreat focused on healing yourself through vulnerability and surrender, visit http://www.beingshameless.com/the-retreat/
BONUS VIDEO: From the vaults of my surrendered heart
How long will I last?
Can I turn up the heat?
What star am I circling?
What’s circling me?
Now my ebb and my flow
My lack of control
Turning on, turning off
Saying yes, but playing no
~ Editors: Lynn Hasselberger and Lori Lothian
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