Don't Bogart My Joint ...
This morning, I decided I would spend a little time meditating.
I like meditation. It allows me some space to just tune out the world, and of course, it's very relaxing.
One time, I decided to meditate in the bath and fell asleep somewhere between Om and Nirvana. I woke up when the water reached about 40ยบ Fahrenheit and I came crashing back into reality. Every inch of my skin looked like lasagna noodles.
They say meditation is good for you. It's supposed to relieve stress and all the everyday tensions of all the everyday world. Of course, if you have a screaming 3-year-old in the kitchen, well, it's hard to get into that state of calm that meditation requires. Reality always seems to have our phone number on speed dial, as the learned Bob Buddha might say.
Some people combine meditation with yoga. Yoga is a great way to loosen up your body while, at the same time, tightening up your muscles.
I did yoga when my knee was on the fritz and the furthest I could walk was from the bed to the couch. I used to tune in this exotic-looking lady on the television every morning, and watch her as she bent her body into impossible postures. Some days, I would even try to follow her movements, but she was a little more advanced than I could muster. I needed "Yoga For Dummies," or more accurately, "Yoga For Inflexible Old Guys With One Bum Knee."
Meditation and yoga are supposed to be good for your sex life, and many people use these disciplines to practise tantric sex.
I'm no expert on tantric sex, but the point of it seems to be to enjoy one another fully without necessarily having an orgasm. You sort of bob and weave, bob and weave, without ever getting to the "Yes, yes, yes, OMG, yes ..." To me, it's sort of like having a turkey dinner, and the drumsticks just never stop coming, no matter how much you might want to get to the end of the meal and have some pumpkin pie with a gob of whipped cream on top of it.
Now, this may come as a surprise to you, but really, I'm not a tantric kind of guy. I believe it comes from my writing background. Everything seems to need to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I don't like a story to linger too long, and I don't like my sex to take two days before I zoom into the stratosphere.
Don't get me wrong. I don't see sex as a kind of drive-thru experience, but really, love is forever, hopefully a long journey, sort of like a never-ending cruise around the world. Sex is more like a bus ride downtown.
This morning, I decided I would spend a little time meditating.
I like meditation. It allows me some space to just tune out the world, and of course, it's very relaxing.
One time, I decided to meditate in the bath and fell asleep somewhere between Om and Nirvana. I woke up when the water reached about 40ยบ Fahrenheit and I came crashing back into reality. Every inch of my skin looked like lasagna noodles.
They say meditation is good for you. It's supposed to relieve stress and all the everyday tensions of all the everyday world. Of course, if you have a screaming 3-year-old in the kitchen, well, it's hard to get into that state of calm that meditation requires. Reality always seems to have our phone number on speed dial, as the learned Bob Buddha might say.
Some people combine meditation with yoga. Yoga is a great way to loosen up your body while, at the same time, tightening up your muscles.
I did yoga when my knee was on the fritz and the furthest I could walk was from the bed to the couch. I used to tune in this exotic-looking lady on the television every morning, and watch her as she bent her body into impossible postures. Some days, I would even try to follow her movements, but she was a little more advanced than I could muster. I needed "Yoga For Dummies," or more accurately, "Yoga For Inflexible Old Guys With One Bum Knee."
Meditation and yoga are supposed to be good for your sex life, and many people use these disciplines to practise tantric sex.
I'm no expert on tantric sex, but the point of it seems to be to enjoy one another fully without necessarily having an orgasm. You sort of bob and weave, bob and weave, without ever getting to the "Yes, yes, yes, OMG, yes ..." To me, it's sort of like having a turkey dinner, and the drumsticks just never stop coming, no matter how much you might want to get to the end of the meal and have some pumpkin pie with a gob of whipped cream on top of it.
Now, this may come as a surprise to you, but really, I'm not a tantric kind of guy. I believe it comes from my writing background. Everything seems to need to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I don't like a story to linger too long, and I don't like my sex to take two days before I zoom into the stratosphere.
Don't get me wrong. I don't see sex as a kind of drive-thru experience, but really, love is forever, hopefully a long journey, sort of like a never-ending cruise around the world. Sex is more like a bus ride downtown.
Meditation is good for the soul, but I'm not sure about the yoga position you posted at the top of your blog. Ouch!
ReplyDeleteI wonder if it's possible to meditate while having sex? Isn't Sting an expert on tantric sex? Aren't you the Answer Man?
So many questions, so little time ... :)
Haha ... sorry, I am definitely NOT the Answer Man ...
Delete"To me, it's sort of like having a turkey dinner, and the drumsticks just never stop coming, no matter how much you might want to get to the end of the meal and have some pumpkin pie with a gob of whipped cream on top of it."
ReplyDeleteSeems to me it would altogether be more like being on a rabbit-food diet while watching everyone else eat Thanksgiving dinner.
-----------
"Yoga For Inflexible Old Guys With One Bum Knee."
I don't remember seeing that one on the NY Times best-seller list.
-------
I thought for sure, seeing the title and before actually having READ your blog, your choice for the song today would be that immutable hippie classic by the Fraternity of Man.
~Manfred
Haha ... good comments ...
DeleteYes that would have been a good song choice ... the title came last ... and at the very last minute ...
Sex with no orgasm is like tasting ice cream but never being able to swallow it, or like getting Christmas presents and being told you can't ever open them ...
ReplyDeleteWell, you should always swallow ... I think that's a rule ...
DeleteLOL sometimes a bus ride is good enough
ReplyDeleteAnd far less expensive than taking a taxi ...
Delete