In Hinduism, Lord Krishna is considered to be the most complete avatar of the Operator from the Hindu trinity of Gods–Vishnu. As contrasted with Lord Rama–who was the "maryada purushottam"–the upper limit of the perfection of manhood (so, still a man)–Lord Krishna was considered to be literally God on Earth.

A key aspect of the story of Lord Krishna is his flirtation with troves of gopis–besotted maidens who would keep following him with doe-eyes filled with desire. Desire that would never be fulfilled. Desire that brimmed and overflowed from the cup that is the human body, burgeoning in the hearts and loins of each gopi, thirsting for but a glimpse of their crush.

In the myth of Lord Krishna, there's stories about how when he would leave his home base of Mathura (or was it Dwarka, I'm not sure), the besotted maidens would fling themselves at his chariot to stop him from leaving just so they could get one more glance.

One more. Just one more. One more. Just one more.

The inherent nature of Desire is Insatiability. Because, once satiated Desire is no more. Once it arises, it is again insatiable. The juice of Desire is in experiencing the burgeoning of its insatiable nature. As it burgeons, the capacity of the human body is tested and in that tension, lies the juice of Desire. Can I hold this? Oh God, I don't think I can! Fear, excitement, juice.

Lord Krishna flirted with the gopis but never satiated their Desire for him so that once they died, they may come to Him. So that their soul may return to Godhood.

At the time of one’s Death, the strongest unfulfilled Desire alive in one’s consciousness plays a significant role in determining what realm one’s soul takes rebirth in–which is the basis of spiritual paths that are founded upon chanting the Lord’s name, so as to train one’s tongue to keep returning back to the Lord’s name, in the hope that at the moment of Death, the tongue takes awareness back to Godhood.

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.

It takes a moment of slowing down, of letting go of the judgments and conditionings that bias one's vision, to see the Beauty.

To meet the Feminine that is the manifested Universe. The Feminine is everywhere and the Witness inside us all is designed, nay destined, to adore Her. That's how the cosmos began. Oneness splitting into Two–because a Desire emerged somewhere in the One to be seen and to fulfill that Desire emerged the Witness.

The Desire and the Witness is the essential Duality. The Feminine and the Masculine.

The Witness yearns to merge back with Desire, just as Desire thirsts to be quenched by being Witnessed. As the yearning in the Witness burgeons, the Witness becomes the Artist. History is replete with plentiful examples of the Artist and his Muse. The expressions that flow out of the Masculine when he beholds the Feminine are Art. Alchemizing Eros into Creativity. Poetry blossoming on the tip of the tongue. Veins growing out of finger-tips enveloping her tenderly. Softly. Sensually. In awe of the beauty of the feminine, arises the Divine Flirt. Forever entranced in the experience of witnessing Her, not wanting it to ever be over in the ephemeral crescendo of satiation.

The Divine Flirt. When you are dropped in to the stunning awe of the manifested feminine beauty that envelops you in the present moment, it's impossible to be anything but the Divine Flirt.

When I first took the Attachment Type test, I graded as "anxious-avoidant". Over a couple of years of learning good boundaries, mostly involving building energetic stability and strength in my spine through martial arts, the "avoidant" aspect melted away. A good No comes from the spine. Yes, you can add some words to it. But truly what is being respected is your capacity to hold all your escapey inner parts back inside your spine. Parts that get tempted by the incoming offer and run away towards it, as much as your highest Self wants to say No. If your spine has the capacity to hold all your parts and all your tender parts trust your spine, then you can look someone in the eye, maintain an open heart and lovingly say No in a manner that pierces their heart open causing them to withdraw the parts that are clawing at you so that they may find comfort in their own heart.

As for the "anxious" part, it's still an ongoing journey, but oddly enough I've found my exploration of Shibari–the Japanese art of rope-typing–to be key in maintaining centeredness in intimate settings. If you are afraid of her getting away, there's nothing like tying her up to calm those anxieties. (I mean this humorously. Shibari is meant to be done with full consent. Don't go around tying folks who are not consenting to it.)

Prior to my exploration of Shibari, I used to "do a lot" in intimate settings from a place of anxiety. I'd just be lustily clawing at the woman I was with, not realizing that all the time I was subconsciously afraid of her losing Desire, if I stopped "doing". This was before I got connected to the inherent Insatiability of Desire. Every time I met the Desire, it ended. Every time I clawed at it, the spark of Desire extinguished. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I am anxious about her losing Desire, she is probably gonna lose Desire, further feeding my anxiety. Desire needs space and some gentle tending to, to turn from a spark into a raging fire. I even remember reading some prep tips in a men's dating forum about how to keep a condom in an easy-to-reach spot so that when it's time for penetration you are not "wasting time" and "risking her losing interest". What utter nonsense! If she is truly thirsting to be taken by you, delays add to the juice. Remember the gopis flinging themselves at Krishna's chariot as he is leaving the city? Embody that certainty as you walk away to locate wherever you keep the condom, instead of fretting over the perfect spot to keep it. I mean, sure you can keep a good location for condoms, but do so from wanting to maintain an organized home to live in rather than from the anxiety of a woman losing interest in being fucked by you. If her Desire is that fleeting, it's not really built up enough. You’ve led her to a place where she is not ready to go. Take smaller steps. Do less to stoke the Fire of Desire.

It's a joy to witness the slight tremors and vibrations from a tied up woman at the slightest of touch. The more I practiced Shibari, the more I realized how I’m already in connection even before I make physical contact. Energetic connection. I’m in energetic connection with all that surround me. The Feminine is so energetically sensitive that slight shifts are felt. Shibari was a playground for me to learn how to work with these slight shifts. Honing my perception for how these shifts are revealed in the softest of movements and sounds. Perceiving from beyond my eyes and ears. Energetically. I've grown into the awareness of how tender this experience is. Like playing a delicate instrument. Now you may be firmly gagging her (in a consensual kinky container because that's what she likes) but the energetic tenderness of the experience remains. Quite the paradox.

Looking back, it's ironic how addressing my deepest sexual wounding has opened up the gates to sexual pleasure that I had never even imagined. Sometimes even without any penetration. Old me thought sex meant penetration. Penetration was the goal. Me attracted to someone. Me want to penetrate her. Me not penetrate = failure. Me penetrate = success. She squirt = great success. Me caveman.

(Cavemen get a bad rap. Given how connected they lived to the Earth, I bet the average caveman was a better lover than the average modern man.)

Trigger warning for upcoming content:

Vivid depictions of recovery of repressed sexual abuse memories in service of sharing the impact they had on my lovemaking abilities.

There's a moment I keep going back to in the emergence of my repressed sexual trauma memories. The moment of recovery of the first memory of sodomy. I vividly remember in my body, mind and soul being in that Ayahuasca medicine container, right after recovering a memory of being masturbated and then fellated – I'm trying to remember if the fellatio memory emerged before sodomy, but I'm failing to recall the order. There was a sense of "okay, this sucks that I'm being masturbated but that's not too bad". This was still a step down from the first sense I had in a prior psilocybin/MDMA ceremony where I first got the sense that I might have been sexually abused–I thought some woman had ridden me when I was a child, projecting some old Oedipal fantasy from unhealed mother wounding. With the fellatio, there was a moment of heartbreak but a bit stifled in the throat, because I could feel the presence of the energetic cock deep in there. It's wild how the imprints of these moments live on the layers of skin that made contact. And then as the sodomy memory started emerging, there was a building dread of "oh no! oh no! fuck no! I know where this is going and fuck no! Not this! Not this! Not this!" till the moment of penetration was felt in my anus. I felt it somatically. I felt imprints of the physical penetration in the memory recovery! Wild! Coupled with my eyes widening in horror both in the memory and in the present. And the jolt of an electric shock flowing up my spine and my body freezing in numbness in response to it. Complete shut down. Full dissociation. My consciousness floating out fully, hovering over my right shoulder, consoling me as I wept silently. In the ceremony, it was me looking at the memory from the right shoulder of child me bent over. Feeling his grasp on my right hip, which ever since held chronic tightness and pain–which was really the beginning of this whole journey as I started doing Alexander Technique attempting to fix the chronic hip pain, the foundation for spine strength crucial for the following martial arts practice.

I keep going back to the moment of first penetration. Not intentionally (as my aunt was so kind enough to tell me–"enough of going on and on about your trauma, move on!"), just that the moment floats in energetically every now and then. It just happens. And I've gotten attuned to how intense it is to be penetrated. And thereby, to penetrate.

There was a reel I saw recently on IG where famous sexologist Layla Martin talked about how all men (heterosexual included) should experience anal penetration to become better lovers. The comment section underneath was a shit show. I'd have probably been quite triggered by that notion a few years ago. Now I wholeheartedly agree. There's no single experience that has helped build greater sensitivity in me in intimate moments than truly feeling into the fullness of that experience of being penetrated non-consensually before my anus was truly ready and thirsting for it.

I feel a bit hesitant writing this out for a gamut of complex reasons but there have been moments in the past couple of years where I've received compliments on how I touch and make love. More often and from a wider group of women than before. When this happens, I look back and say with a sly smile, "I was put in Sex Camp as a kid".

I'm writing this out because I want more men to see their repressed sexual trauma. This is the carrot I'm dangling. You're gonna have the best sex of your life. If you are a man who was sexually abused as a child, tapping into the innocence of your wounds is the gateway to bring a divine innocence to your sexual exploits with women, to embody the Divine Flirt, that Lord Krishna was–not surprisingly also represented in mythology as the Divine Child.

Healing is Pleasure is Healing.