Saturday, February 12, 2011
In a Magical Mystical Way
We’re just a couple of days away from the Day of Love, so on that note, I have decided to broach a subject that I’ve been longing to touch for quite some time. My hesitation was based on how it will be received, but then I remembered that I am the sole owner of this pen so what and how I write is strictly up to me. I am the steward.
Despite the commercialism, Valentine’s Day is continually celebrated and embraced as an opportunity for lovers to express their feelings for one another. As for me, the day has very little significance. Please do not get me wrong, I am all for love and as you continue to read, you will see that I really love love, but I don’t care much for some of the superficiality and the premeditated effort that tends to make its way into the Valentine’s Day celebrations. I know that sounds rather harsh and unfeeling, but quite the contrary. For one, I respect love too much to condone a Day of Love when EVERY day should be a day of love. Secondly, my love language and sensuality is not stirred by prearranged displays of affection. Spontaneity, for me, is the secret ingredient in the recipe of erotic experiences.
We are finally where I want us to be in this post.
There’s only one way to write about eroticism--in a magical, mystical way. Now that phrasing is not mine, instead it’s the title of a groovy song by the UK-based soulster, Omar Lye-Fook. Even though the song is well over ten years old, it still has the same effect on me whenever I hear it. It inspires me and easily, I settle into an imaginative mood, which ultimately evokes a dazzling display of creative expression of carnality, whether it’s a seductive piece of poetry, free thoughts, or a barrage of intimate touches. Over the past few years, I have come to reexamine this concept of eroticism and based on ponderings so far, as a society, we have completely tainted it.
Because of its elusive meaning, erotic love has to be the most misunderstood and misappropriated of them all. In this country, eroticism has been limited to the simple act of sex rather than the undercurrents that fuel the act itself. Eroticism does not always have to incorporate the act of sex and it is not driven by sexual lust, although it has been accused of that. Pornography has been erroneously dubbed as eroticism, however, the commodified, objectified, mechanical nature of pornographic materials completely eliminates the sensual energy that is necessary between a man and a woman. It could be easily argued that pornography and the complete hypnotization of this culture of convenience has created a generation that disconnects sex from love – and this twisted phenomenon is deemed as ‘progressive’ and ‘liberated’. Nothing could be further from the truth. Folks got all kinds of ways to describe and un-describe their stuff; from the R. Kelly-inspired 'homie lover friend' to the '90s ATLien-phrased 'cut buddy' or the jump-off, the bust down, Friends With Benefits. Whatever they are calling it these days, it's all wrapped up in this lifeless relationship that doesn't mature into a more deeply felt and free experience.
True eroticism is based on how much two people have taken the time to study each other and discover those aspects that stirs their respective passions. The nature of the erotic urges a person to move beyond superficial posturing and insecurities so that the two people can consummate their togetherness, building trust and exploring those avenues to greater pleasure and fulfillment. Think about it. Who doesn't want to be submerged into a sensual abyss and be so genuinely smitten with someone that even their spit is delicious when you kiss them? In a simpler word, the erotic is about being sprung. You see, we have been taught to run from being sprung, but in all actuality, there's nothing more gratifying in a love relationship than to have your nose open. At the heart of it all, it's not about a certain 'something' that you like but more about who's doing the certain 'something'.
Honestly, I'm hard pressed to believe that people even go that far these days. The mere pursuit of conquering simple sexual urges doesn't permit them to engage on a more deeper level. So, that's why the erotic has been watered down into this fraction of a thing--a mere copping of a cheap thrill. It's everywhere you turn, especially in the music. The erotic has absolutely nothing to do with the neighbors knowing your name as Trey Songz crows but more about cherishing the day when your lover takes your hand and shows you how deep love can be.
I longingly await my next venture as I am not impressed by flowers, but I'm more eager for the flowers of my mind to be nurtured by the waters of his freestyle expression. Seduce me. I welcome it. Do you?