When my heart meets resonance

The world shatters

As it should

The illusion is broken

As it must

The space where I was

Now vacant

Of everything except

The recent memory

Of powerful wings

Exactly why this hits this morning I have no idea. Let’s run with it. I am aware my kids may read this. I am okay with that. It is probably time we took this conversation further anyway…

There is a distinction that I have held for my adult life that seems very relevant and clear to me right now – perhaps aided by not being in a sexual relationship at present. ‘Having Sex’ vs. ‘Making Love’. It is in my experience not one everyone holds – certainly not in the same way as I seem to. I am curious about that.

I have been in deeply committed relationship where we ‘had sex’. It varied from great to merely mechanical and sometimes downright damaging. I have been in situations where there was no such ‘solid’ ground and have ‘made love’ – it surprised the hell out of me. It has included intercourse, and not. Orgasms; beautiful when included and occasionally – optional.

Sometimes making love has been an origami of entwining and falling into gentle sleep so close to someone  – intimately connected with their warmth and breathing that becomes part of my unexpected dreams. The movement from sensual physical connection into quickening sexual expression and the immense deepening expansive flow just being one step in front of the other. Wondering where hours have just flown. And it has sometimes been mere minutes.

Sex tends to be shorter…

Making love is an event of the heart. Sex sometimes attempts to get the rest of the spirit involved; whether it does or not seems accidental/incidental. Making love is a profound intention to open. Sex an act.

There is nothing wrong with either. Both are incredible, wonderful human experiences.

There is something here about the space of ritual and sacrament. Ritual goes through the motions and has its own comfort and rewards. Sacrament elevates the mundane into the profound – the motion of the words and gestures, whispers and touches into the symphony of the spirit and soul. The difference is intention – and surrender. Not the surrender of ‘giving up’ of ‘resignation’. The surrender of giving over control to something far bigger, infinitely more powerful, creative and wonderful than could be realized through conscious design or seen with conscious attention. Sacrament tears open the normal, the ordinary and opens it up to an infinite sky; to authentic possibility. The ‘one step at a time’ mind cannot create that. This is soul territory.

The willingness to open the heart and engage completely in deeply intimate encounter with another human being where all of the boundaries blur; where it can all let go. To willingly lean in and stand on and over the edge is where alchemy lives. Where you are left irredeemably changed by the experience. That to me is making love. After you put the clothes back on. You can dress but the masks are shifted; the sands have moved. You are never the same. Making Love rewrites you.

Conversations can be like that. Perhaps that is it – a conversation spoken in many languages at once; deep enough to change everything. This time in a nakedness even more profound than mere clothes could hide.

I am wrestling with trying to express something about encountering all of life with this willingness to be changed by it – to make love with the next moment. To be fully present in it with the willingness to allow it to be, and fully participate in it just as it is.

And now I get to be all wistful about lovers I have known and those I have yet to encounter…