This is why I practice Orgasmic Meditation, By Rachel Doe
“Tick the box, follow the plan, do what I say.”
Starting in my first year of high school I was putting one foot in front of the other down a well trodden path. I studied hard in school, pushed through dyslexia and the associated depression, waited out the body image bullying and endured an overbearing and unpredictable mother.
Every so often in the middle of a law lecture I would be overwhelmed by the sheer awesomeness of this magnificently complex world. I felt like the smallest doll in a set of babushka dolls but at the same time I felt like my body had dissolved into the space around me and “we are all stardust” felt like the honest to goodness truth. Despite such revelatory moments I grew accustomed to the idea that my future held no more of them. I would work in an office block doing something not unlike a rubix cube -intellectually interesting but not at all fulfilling.
“I’m not ready for a relationship, nice ass, want a drink?”
When it came to love I was even more lost. Having witnessed my parents train wreck of a marriage when I started university I was determined not to fall in love with a man there who would, as far as my experience had shown, inevitably stop being the person I originally loved, emotionally abuse me and prevent me from living my own life. No, I would ‘have fun’ at uni and then find a more mature and suitable candidate when I started my career. Although I promptly forgot about this decision I was shocked and horrified to realise six years later at the end of my degrees that it might have had something to do with the fact that I always seemed to attract men who weren’t interested in anything serious and generally treated me like entertainment.
Its not that I didn’t have attention. I did, just all the wrong sorts. I stopped walking down the main road home from my bus stop so that I didn’t have to listen to an average of three cat calls in fifteen minutes. At my housewarming party an acquaintance plied me with liquor when I was already drunk and then proceeded to rip my nightshirt open, despite my protests. Lucky for me was a weakling, so I was able to batter him off me. He slept in my bed that night and I lay on my living room floor by the heater. I never did find all the buttons.
“Survival of the fittest, win or lose, hot or not”
As brilliant as evolution is for explaining natural selection, applying the theory to humans has not worked out well for us. In an effort to get ahead we try and measure things what can’t be measured and use them as metrics to ‘rate’ our success, failure and prospects of survival.
Beauty is measured in thin.
Success is measured in money and prestige.
Intelligence is measured in scores.
Loving is measured in climaxing.
Competition to get into law school turned into competition to get good grades which turned into competition to get a good job at a good firm. All of which I achieved, but for reasons which still allude me.
Competition for male attention turned into an eating disorder (disguised as being ‘fit and healthy). One day, in an effort to console myself when the scales had been unkind the thought “your value as a person is not inversely proportional to your body weight” drifted into my mind. Those exact words. I took myself off a therapist which only succeeded in stopping me from slipping further down that slippery slope.
“You are wrong, on every level, about everything.”
I went to an introduction to OM class after stumbling across it on MeetUp. The ‘demo’ model creaming and convulsing in orgasm right in front of me did not disappoint.
But I was completely unprepared for a stranger to ask me what I desired. That’s a bit of an understatement. I was moved to tears.
This is why I OM.
Forget about everything that sounds familiar
Listen to your Desire and you can have it.