(photo credit: Eric Francis)
The second of the two questions in our Bodysex circle framed my answers to both. How do I feel about my orgasm? I hadn't considered it before. At least not directly. Do I feel anything specifically about my orgasm? I asked myself. Or do I simply feel my orgasm?
The first question, how I feel about my body, was one I chewed on at length. But mulling how I felt about my orgasm was unfamiliar. Taking my time to consider the questions before, during, and now after the Bodysex filming, has in itself been enlightening.
My orgasm has been my longest companion. Since childhood, self-pleasure has held a treasured role in the ways I comfort and connect with myself. Tangible sensations of pleasure helped my efforts to stay grounded in my flesh, a touchpoint I could count on.
My orgasm is expansive. It bounces around within me, reverberating, echoing, reflecting back and forth between the facing mirrors of my sex, my lips, my legs, within my belly, in my hands, the crown of my head.
My orgasm feels like a precious gift to myself. It is the personal, cellular, embodied proof I have that if there is anything divine or beautiful in this universe, I am part of what is Divine. Or put another way, God exists because I exist, and I know that I exist because of the overwhelming joy as orgasmic pleasure washes through my being. (I mean "God" or "God/dess" in the most hippy-pagan, eclectic buddhist, psychedelic, fractal, heathen way possible.)
As my orgasm developed in childhood, the rush of my heartbeat in my ears, the flush of blood to my face, the throb between my thighs - those sensations felt like how I imagined God to be, a feeling of Oneness, of Connection. I still feel that way now, that my orgasm informs my innermost self of what my personality or brain or ego sometimes forgets or confuses. That I am Whole. I am Good.
At certain times I'm not inclined toward having orgasms. I am learning how to cultivate that field of my sexual desire, to feed it and prune it and watch it grow. Sometimes taking breaks has been healthy as well, a fast of sorts, to recharge my batteries. And the orgasms afterward are all the sweeter.
During my twenties, I got the message that my avid masturbation was somehow insulting to my sex partners, a sign that they were deficient in "giving" me an orgasm. In my current relationship, for the first time, masturbation is completely woven into the shared sex we have. It's been healing to come back to that kind of sexual pleasure and connection, the kind that I shared with myself from a young age.
Showing my self-initiated orgasm to another person is profoundly intimate. Shortly before and certainly during the Bodysex filming, I came to appreciate social orgasms, unattached to romantic relationships. I was given the opportunity to share my orgasm, my best friend and longest companion, with others. I showed my unabashed pleasure, not as a sexual come-on, but as friendly sharing.
This is me. This is my orgasm.
I found social masturbation to be a remarkable experience. Doing so adds to the sensation of pulling together all the pieces of me, holding everything together, even the parts that wouldn't seem to fit.
If you choose to, you will have the opportunity to see my orgasm, several of them, and those of my fellow Bodysex participants when the video is released. At one point in the circle I pulled out a small mirror. I gazed into my own eyes, looking at myself when I came.
As a series of orgasms quaked my core, I started crying from the power and beauty of the experience. I've only had a few crygasms up to now, and one of them was in the Bodysex container we created in Betty's temple. We held space, raised energy, and sent it out to the world that day. And it was filmed. Soon you can see it.