I don’t want to write about this morning’s OM. Because I’m not even that person I was who laid down to OM 2 hours ago.
I don’t want to write about this morning’s OM. Trying to understand what happens in this relative thing of time and space is exhausting.
I don’t want to write about this morning’s OM. Life makes no sense, and I’m fine to keep it that way, in this moment. What a relief, to not have to understand or make sense of, to give cause and effect, to make linear conclusions.
I don’t want to write about this morning’s OM. Because.
I don’t want to write about this morning’s OM. But writing is happening, and here I am.
This morning’s OM almost didn’t happen. I woke up feeling weird. Well, I went to bed feeling weird.
Things had taken a turn for the “weird”at some point while out on a date last night. Not bad weird, but different weird. One moment I was turned on and engaged, and then suddenly things felt different. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I couldn’t find anything wrong. Things just different. Once I was home that off feeling continued to be noticed, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Was it X? Was it Y? I couldn’t find it in story, in an emotion or in my body. And it didn’t feel useful to try to figure it out (see yesterday’s blog post on trying), which, as a recovering “trying” addict, felt quite good to be honest. Having the tendency to try to delineate and draw conclusions, and it was a relief to not have to do that, and instead to just acknowledge that shit felt weird.
Then came sleep. Jealous dreams. *Not* my favorite kind of dreams. I don’t like conflict. I don’t like antagonism. I don’t like the push/pull of jealousy. As I started to wake sentiments of the dream were still fresh. I faded in and out of sleep- while half asleep my brain did a bit of a reframe, shifting the story. But the weirdness was still there. And now there was anger. And I wanted to find a place for this anger to land. I wanted to find the cause. I wanted to find the source. I wanted to delineate and figure out- to make sense of what i was feeling. Ah. Yup, there’s that trying mechanism. There’s nothing wrong with inquiring into a feeling, but that’s not what was going on. I was trying to find an intellectual explanation so that I no longer had to feel the discomfort and uncertainty that was happening. Having once again spotted the mechanism, I waved the white flag of surrender. “Ok anger. Have it your way. I’m pissed. I don’t have to find a cause. I’m just gonna be angry.”
Meanwhile, my partner was on his way over for an OM. I had been tempted to say no, because I could feel something brewing, and my tendency is to want to hide while that’s happening. But recently I’ve decided to OM even when my rational mind or ego says don’t. I’ve decided to OM even when I’m mad at my partner. Or mad in general. Or sad. Or when we’re feeling disconnected. So I accepted the OM. And I continued to acknowledge my anger, and the storm brewing.
Stories were dancing around in my attention as I was doing things around the house, as I was feeling this anger. At some point a light bulb went off and I realized it was fear of rejection/feelings of rejection that were showing up in my system. And the anger was the preemptive attempt to find safety in the rejection dance I was perceiving. Defense. I continued to stay with my experience.
As we started to prepare for the OM I let him know I was in a bit of a weird space, but that I didn’t have anything to talk about at that moment. It’s at this point, when the timer was started, that things get really hazy, but here goes: My clit was so sensitive, and with every stroke my equally sensitive heart clenched. This heart/clit connection was immense. Eventually my attention landed manly in what felt like a deep and innocent sorrow in my heart. I could feel the very real sense of rejection in my system- I felt small and young and vulnerable. I repeatedly grounded my foot into his foot- it felt like my being was clinging onto that connection of his foot and my foot for dear life. As if it/he were to leave, I’d disappear. It felt scary. It felt like my survival was in his hands. That I was nothing without him. As I stayed with the fear, surrendered to the fear, loud sobs poured out me. A very old part of me wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, to escape from this world and retreat into my own. Another part of me was aware that I could stay with this fear of rejection and abandonment, while also dropping attention back to my clit/ into sensation/body.
This was profound for me. Another reference to yesterday’s blog post: the pattern to try and disappear myself is profound in the history of Lisa. I could feel that pattern tempt me during the OM, and then me not succumbing to it. Instead I was able to allow the scared Lisa to show up, while not disappearing myself in the process. (Any time patterns shift is cause for celebration, so let me just pause for a quick WOOOHOOOOO!!!! whilst high-fiving myself.) My attention kept staying with sensation in my pussy, and all that was present with regards to the fear of rejection. At one point I requested that my parter tell me “I’m not going anywhere”, which he did. I felt some self consciousness making this request, and I wasn’t sure if that was in the OM rule book, but fuck it, I did it anyway. I don’t know if him saying it did much for my system (how believable it felt), but it did feel profound that I allowed myself to make this request. It was me showing up for me, me not going anywhere, me not rejecting/abandoning me- which was really what this was all about to begin with.
Shortly after that my system started to settle. The crying stopped, the fight/flight/freeze responses subsided and I was able to deeply engage with my partners’ finger on my pussy. I connected with sensations as mine, with pleasure that was mine, with orgasm that was mine. None of it was being given to me. None of it was dependent upon him. None of it was his, from him, about him, on any level. All of it was happening within/as my field of awareness, that had no edges or boundaries or location. It was inherent to consciousness itself, and as such, could never been rejected or abandoned.
15 minutes. *mind blown*