Once upon a time at summer camp (not band camp) when I was a young girl (not an old woman like now), I heard in a conversation an older woman say how she preferred gardening over sex with her husband. I remember at the time being new in my exploration of sexuality in relationship to others, raising my eyebrows and thinking - "What!? Is she nuts?!" Oddly her words stuck with me and have replayed in my head many times over the years as I've grappled with and observed sexuality from many different angles - pardon the pun.
First of all sexuality and all it represents can't be narrowed to body parts and isolated instances of connection between bodies.Sexual energy is so much bigger than that. But as with all glorious, mysterious, and awe inspiring things unfittable into boxes, we try boxing them any way. I do not remember this woman as embodying femininity. I remember her as more masculine in appearance and rigid if not mildly cranky in attitude. While there's nothing wrong with that, her words were words of resignation with a twinge of resentment. Gardening over intimacy with her husband was a consolation prize, not a celebrated choice.
There are many directions for sexuality to flow. One individual may have dozens of them, hundreds, even thousands...dare I say limitless ways - existence itself and taking a breath counted among them. For me, my first sip of single origin Kenyan coffee in the morning, the sound of Smokey Robinson's silky voice buttering up the high notes, moving my body to a funky bass line or African drum, a first glimpse of the moon on a starry summer night, or a strong, steady, masculine hand on the small of my back - all of these (though not sex per se) have at one time or another given me visceral experiences of sexual delight.
I was recently asked by an attractive man of color at a dance venue if I was Brazilian. "No, I said, but I know why you're asking." He grinned, surprised I think at my candidness. We both knew it was the booty. Who are we kidding? We smiled at each other and he said, "Man, you're a woman, a real woman." I hunched over, pretending I had a cane, and said, "You mean an old lady." "No!" Was his emphatic reply. "You're truly sexy. Sexy doesn't even begin for a woman until this and this get connected." he said pointing first to his head and then to his heart. I liked his insight and agreed with one addition so I nodded, "You're right - this, this, AND this," I said pointing to my head, my heart, and adding my pelvis.
My response was a natural, matter-of-fact depiction of my own experience in integrating my sexuality. There's no way to leave the pelvis out! Ask Elvis.
Embracing the pelvis has so many literal and symbolic implications. As a woman, the journey of unlocking my pelvic mysteries has been a fascinating one and still continues. As a teacher witnessing the way our bodies reflect psychological and emotional states, I've found the pelvic area to be a great block for many people of both genders. In a yoga class ask people to lift their arm - no problem. But mention or ask for some adjustment or movement in the pelvic area and you can feel the trepidation in the room.
This pelvic disconnect mirrors shame and guilt about our sexuality and it's not natural or innate. It is learned, educated conditioning. No baby shoots out of the womb with any aversion to their pelvis -- quite the opposite. Latin, Mediterranean and African cultures tend to be more connected and free with their sexuality. You can see this by the styles of dance that come from these areas.
I wish for everyone, both men and women, to have a fun, free, joyous, open-ended exploration with their sexuality. Reckless and repressed are two sides of the same coin. One side reflects fighting against outside impositions, the other succumbing to them.
For me, the middle way has been looking within. I've had to blatantly ignore the committee in my head to find my own authenticity. This continues to require a lot of deconstructing, self-reflection, exploration, and quite frankly what's been recently called in a popular book -- "the subtle art of not giving a FXXX."
What I'm discovering is that my sexuality is something to be embraced, cherished, and honored. I'm finding that the more it's grounded in my authenticity, the more it flows in ways that are healthy and constructive to my life. And many of these have nothing to do with what's commonly labeled as "having sex."
All in all there's a fearlessness and freedom along with a greater clarity about my yes's and no's and a natural ease in honoring them.
http://alisonbristow.com/whole-souled-sexuality/
