Monday, March 10, 2014

In the Hours Left Over

I struggle to find time to live in the after.  It is in the after that I can truly feel.  Experiencing my heartache, crying my tears, laughing at the jokes that only I can laugh at short of teaching someone else a language that only exists in my on mind. The agonizingly exhaustive energy required for wrestling with the option to run away from it all, or make the daily choice to stay where I am without crawling into a bottle of pills in hopes of numbing the wanting away is who I have currently become.

After managing the daily routine of my chosen path - marriage, motherhood, teaching, and raising two young children up to be anything other than Assholes - I finally get to be my authentic self in the hours left over.

The hardest part of leaving paradise is making the daily choice to continue to leave it once you are already home.  Mentally extinguishing each blazing memory in order to live in the burned out remains can be horrifying.   Endurance is not the easiest of daily companions to accommodate.  But the only way out is through.

Magic will return.
These things cannot be planned, scheduled, or prepared for with a freshly cleaned home decorated for a personal celebration.  Expectation is a repellant for serendipity.  It is in living the day to day that fuels the magical experiences yet to be indulged in. Only through the waiting can the wanting subside.

Heartbreak is terribly inconvenient on dry land.  Lust has no room to vibrate in between loads of whites and perma-press.  Emptiness cannot comfortably coincide with packing healthy school lunches.  Ache blocks all motivation to accomplish tasks involving deliberately focused elbow grease, like washing the sheets that still hold your scent captive or scrubbing your footprints away from the kitchen tile on which we danced.  Need has no room to snuggle in a bed shared with a man who is always willing to love all of my hurt away but, for this moment at least, can't because he is not you.

Because this moment is all about me.  It is all about the me that seeks to play the wild card and win it all with no regret, but can't because there are no wildcards in a game of Old Maid with a preschooler for an opponent.  Games lose all their fun when you are focused on outmaneuvering and demolishing someone who calls you, "Mommy." 

This moment is about fully understanding that Marianne was right when saying how our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure.  So it is here, in the hours left over, that I let my vulnerability stand front and center.  It is here where all judgment disappears and my imperfection is precisely perfect.  And it is here that I will always return so that I may someday, once again, be set free.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

It All Starts With a Kiss

 " need kissing badly, Scarlett.  That's what's wrong with you.  You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how."  ~  Rhett Butler

It all starts with a kiss. Unfortunately, it can also end with one when a man doesn’t really know how to kiss a woman.  Over the years I have taught a mess of men how to kiss and why it is so important to do it well.  This has always been my favorite act of service to humanity, so here it goes for those of you whom I have yet to kiss…

1.  The lips are the gatekeepers to the rest of her body.

Take your time and GO SLOW.  Don’t come hurdling in all open-mouthed with a swirling tongue like a helicopter desperately looking for a soft place to make a crash landing.  Your girl is not looking for a rapid strep test throat culture via your tongue. Nor will she find any pleasure when the encounter ends in orofacial injury because your tongue equals the thrusting propulsive power of a jet engine – THAT part happens below the waist… and MUCH later.
For the most part, a desirable woman does not even want to meet the inside of your mouth until you have proved yourself with your lips.  Spend at least thirty seconds using only the plumped softness of your lips to charm her in the same way that led you to getting this close her to begin with.  Thirty seconds is a lot longer than it sounds. But remember when it comes to experiencing thrilling intimacy, the relativity of the time-space continuum slows down to the same pace of waiting for freshly painted toes to dry before they can dive into the her brand new pair of open-toed stilettos and dance the night away.
2.  Make her feel like she is (finally) being kissed for the first time ever.
Kissing a woman well should never be routine. Don’t push in with your lips with a long sustained smooch like you’re kissing your Grandma “goodbye” on her cheek while making the “MmmmCH” sound.  Keep your head tilted closely in front of her face with your hands gently cradling the sides of her head for your first advance.  Then wrap one arm around to the small of her back and support the nape of her neck with your free hand while exuding the strength and confidence of the leading man in an old Hollywood movie, right before the screen fades to black.

Gently connect with her lips the way the tide reaches the shore – back and forth with swelling anticipation, pausing for half a moment to draw back before plunging forward once again.  Make her feel the warmness of your breath and smell the connection to your soul before you go and ruin the whole thing by grabbing for a boob, or shoving your hand up her skirt.

3.  Introduce the tongue with the delicateness of a highly secret and valuable family heirloom wrapped in handmade white lace.

After your lip foreplay has acquainted the two of you sufficiently, very gently invite your tongue’s tip into her mouth with a quick and delicate lick.  Immediately revert back to lip smooching before gently (and I mean VERY GENTLY) biting her lower lip and pressing your tongue nimbly against its fullness.  Again, make her breath you in.  If you are on track to having her melt all over you, she will reciprocate your feather-like caresses from the inside of her mouth into yours

Knowing her readiness for further promotion will be made aware by the way she surprises herself with a sigh or the sound of a gentle moan.  This is when the real action gets going.  As you feel her body begin to rev up with stimulating vibrations, she will hungrily pursue your mouth with her own tongue.  Surrender to her increasing need to taste you.  The further that she presses into you, the tighter you need to hold her close.  Eventually the rhythm of the give and take will dance its way into full body contact where the possibilities become endless and the thought of what to do next dissolves into ecstasy.