In the eye of the beholder

"As soon as you make contact with your life’s passion — which can mean finding your vocation, your life partner or even your sexual identity — you are going to experience a kind of spiritual suffering until you act on that passion. That suffering is actually a form of divine motivation, urging you to pursue a more authentic life."—Caroline Myss

We speak of many physical purchases on these pages. If i'm not abstractly obsessing over the curves that spill over the female hip, i'm regaling those who read here on how something looks to the eye, feels to the touch, and even occasionally smells to the nostril. I will not take away any of the importance these sensual satisfactions provide my life, but i have always inwardly understood that i pursue my sadistic agenda to accomplish some level of metaphysical harmony.

I received the quote at the top from a very dear friend of mine, who thought i would relate to the words "spiritual", "suffering", and "divine". She couldn't have been more wrong. I don't relate to those words. I am those words - they inform every breath i ever make. The general impression floating around these here walls may be that i'm a little obsessed with kinkiness and sex - that needn't be corrected. The only thing that comes close if not outright exceeds it is my fixation on spirituality.

Music moves me. Stirs me. Gets behind every single red blood cell and pushes them through my veins with great velocity. In fact, after "The Great Minimization" of my material goods in 2004, the only music i owned, the only literature i put on my shelves, and the only movies i ever watch are those that deliver me to some euphoric level of consciousness. I meditate frequently, several times throughout the day. I'm not doing it so that i have clarity which then allows me to leap on the next big financial deal or to come up with the crucial missing piece for time travel. When i take a shower, i anxiously await the moment at the end where i train the stream of hot, cascading water down on the base of my neck. Somehow the heat penetrating this part of my body signals my internal anchorage to let go of every muscle, ligament and tissue - instantaneous out-of-body experience.

I feel the same raw expulsion of energy burst through me whenever i give in to the heady demands of a strenuous and intense bondage scene. At those moments when my chest buzzes with so much electricity as i gaze down at the prone feminine figure rendered so vulnerably by my hands and power, what i'm engaging in rises and ascends above the pure base act of intercourse. Communion, of two souls, who must use unconventional methods to slip out of the mortal cloaks hanging from their spines in order to momentarily exist outside the narrow, unnatural confines of their physical frames. Communion.

I seek the Divine in every gesture, mistake and moment of passion. In fact, one of my most frequently (and perhaps too frequently) stated idioms is "There is not enough beauty in this world. We must use every store of energy in our body to do what we can to rectify that."

For beauty reminds us of the Divine. Beauty brings the Divine closer to us. Beauty supersedes all other woes.