Getting off on yourself

For a while now I’ve wondered if it’s possible to get off on yourself. Likea deep self adoration, loving lusting romantic affection masturbation asexual-union-rebirth-ification.

There I was — laying in bed, in my wooden hut, under the mosquito net in just my knickers while the storm cracks and pours outside. Surrounded by jungle and ocean — I connect. I start with meditation and reprogramming on aspects of intimacy stored within my system — “All the ties that bind in my experiences and existences of intimacy are balanced and aligned. I embrace a unified intimacy and courage in all of my life experiences”. I finish the meditation feeling curious .... and restless. I get up, go outside, take one step into storm and then back to bed. Memories blow into my consciousness like a dream, awake. I shut my eyes. I watch memories of boyfriends and crushes and ideas of love play in the viewing screen, all sorts of stuff from age 9 to now. And I start to feel nervous. I feel nervous to be in love. Nervous to GO FOR IT. Nervous to admit my feelings. Nervous to honour my desires. I let go of the judgements and jump in. I picture the person I want to be with, I imagine them, feel them and approach them. Memories and manifestations fade and it’s just me, with Me. No one else comes to mind. I dialogue with Myself. I don’t know who’s speaking..... And yet, I’m equally surprised at the mere possibility it’s actually happening and my ability to be IN IT and also observe it. I give myself exactly what I want. And it’s easy. I ask, I receive. And just at the point of climax something unexpected happens. I start making love to joy, to moments of pure euphoria. To the rain on my face, to the ocean wrapping around my body, to the earth and all of her elements moving through me. It’s a sensory overload, I feel love stoned! I lose the boundaries of my physical body. And the freedom is so overwhelming I release into myself. An implosion of emotion - all that remains is an outward breath and a heart beat. I fall into stillness. And I’m pleased, relieved. I lay there with myself a moment. She did it — that feminine inner dialogue. Who is she? I feel a bit weird about it. Maybe I’m into women after all? And yet, I’m not feeling gay or straight. I wonder -is she someone I know? And then I realise she’s Me. I am the woman I’ve been craving. I wanted my Woman to accept me, love me, softy, gently, passionately, touch me, Know me, be with me. I wanted to come into myself. And in a moment of surrender to the feminine within I’m met with all of creation, coming through me, into me.

I say it all the time, but I write this life before myself. I scripted a poem earlier today about feeling as though I am contained — and wanted to reverse the roles and ‘hold the holder’ (see below)

Girl, I got you <3