OM has Expanded my Ability to See, Feel, to be AttentiveBY RAFAEL
Man, did I have a plan for my life. I started dating the woman I was going to marry on the last day of high school. We went to a movie, saw Don Juan Demarco. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but it is a hella romantic comedy. All about deep loving romance and dedication.
The formulas we’re supposed to live our lives by are all around us. They’re in the movies we see on first dates. They’re demonstrated in the lives of our parents, the mistakes of our friends. I took all of this very much to heart, and before I knew it, I was planting markers in the ground. Engaged, check. Big wedding, check. Steady job with a 401k, check check. And then I got to the one I hadn’t really planned. Divorce. Check.
After my divorce, I had this brutal realization: I had no clue what had happened. I had no clue what was going on. I had followed the rulebook line by line, and yet here I was. Alone and lonely.
The loneliness is what really brought me to OM. Since my divorce, I hadn’t had much contact with women. I hadn’t had any sex. I hadn’t had many dates, and the ones I’d had, it felt like I was sort of slipping off the surface, so to speak. I couldn’t quite get “there” with any of them.
When I found out about this practice, this Orgasmic Meditation, I could feel there was something there for me. Something that could take me deeper within myself, and deeper within my relationships. I guess you could say my decision to try OM was the first time I followed a feeling, not a plan.
Every experience we have has a feeling to it. Without a shadow of a doubt, there’s a feeling to it. If you’re not feeling something, it’s because some part of you isn’t willing to. When I first started to OM, I wasn’t feeling much—except a cramping in my hands and back. For three months I OMed with pain.
Then something happened. I was in an OM, getting adjustments, and my partner said, “Are you angry?”
“Angry? No! I’m not angry, I’m a nice guy.” And I went on stroking.
Then, two minutes later, “I think you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry!” I half-shouted. Whoa.
It turned out I had a lot of resentment compressed into a very thin layer that I could barely detect. A woman would ask me to do something, or tell me to do something, and for half a second, I would react with rage and resentment and hurt. And then the “nice guy” in me would push that feeling down. Once I realized this, a lot of the rage began to dissipate. My hands and back stopped cramping, and my OMs became a lot more sensational.
I think we all have this idea that what we feel has to be directly connected to a physical experience we’re having in the world. Like, I can’t feel heat in my legs unless heat is being applied. Or I can’t feel like I’m going up without being in an elevator, going up. But I’ve had both sensations, very clearly, while sitting and stroking in an OM. And it was OM that taught me not to dismiss these sensations as tricks or impossibilities. It taught me to home in on them instead.
I can remember the first time I was fully stroking on the spot in an OM. People had told me there would be an electric charge, a spark, but I dismissed it as some woo-woo California stuff. I grew up in New York. Things are a little more practical out there. But I swear, that’s just how it felt. I don’t know if you have cousins, but I do, and we were idiotic enough as kids to touch our tongues to a 9-volt battery. And that’s just how it felt, being on my partner’s spot with my fingertip. Minus the acidic taste.
Intuition is so powerful. It guides us towards truths we could never access with only the logical parts of our brains. I’ve heard that women can tell within 20 seconds whether or not they’re going to sleep with you. And I believe it. I feel the truth of it.
Because I’ve been OMing for so long, I can feel that spot of electricity anywhere, that spot of truth. I’m like a metal detector. I can follow the “beep, beep, beep” in a conversation until I get to somebody’s spot. Their purpose.
My own purpose has changed so much since those days of following the script. I’m meant to be in this world to help anyone I come in contact with live in their purpose. To guide them, through conversation and questions, towards their “spot.”
There’s nothing special about my attention, except that I’ve trained it through sitting down, stroking, OMing. The progress has been slow and incremental from those days where the only way I could move forward in life was attaching myself to somebody else’s made-up “plan.”
Little by little, OM has expanded my ability to see, to feel, to be attentive. And I guarantee anyone else who takes the time to sit down and stroke and feel will experience the same thing. The hard work comes in later, when you start to see all the things that were keeping you from having that level of attention. The fears, the ego, all of that. Facing all the programming is where the hard work lies. But on the other side, there’s a new and expansive world waiting.