The New Activism


I found out about Orgasmic Meditation from a guy I met on a popular dating website. He told me he practiced OM, and what he said appealed to me because I was in the aftermath of a short but intense relationship. The sex had been electric, and while we were together, I had felt vibrant and alive. It had been only weeks since the breakup, and already it felt like the energy was dying inside of me. I understood that OM could be a way to maintain the vitality without being overly dependent on another to create it for me.

At this point, I had only experienced climax once with a partner. It felt like there was something wrong with me. I could only bring myself to a peak on my own, and I was deeply sure that I was broken in some way. I lived inside a story that I was dysfunctional, especially as I was in my 30s and had never been in a long-term relationship. The concept of relating intimately was completely foreign. I felt ill-equipped to express what I wanted or needed in a relationship and thereby make things work.

Although I had never explicitly done anything to address this, I had spent years trying to understand what stopped me from having the kind of love relationships I wanted. For a long time, I couldn’t seem to identify anything specific. It caused me a great deal of frustration. Eventually I decided that it was a combination of being very shy and my turbulent relationship with my body.

I was diagnosed as a pre-teen with a spinal condition called scoliosis. My adolescence was pretty much a series of doctors, hospitals, and operations. I had my first operation when I was 14. When I put on the girdle that I had to wear to support my back, my social life went kaput. It was traumatic. Metal went into my spine, and the healing process was very painful and uncomfortable. There was also the threat of paralysis—I remember it took me days post-op to remember how to walk. I think that I began to both detach from and hate my painful body. I began to believe that no one would find me attractive with my condition. I felt really ugly for many years.

As a girl, although cautious about speaking in groups, I had loved to dance. It was a form of expression for me. No longer able to communicate through movement, I was left feeling even more closed down and limited. I did, however, become an independent woman. What I would describe as a super-feminist. I think part of me began to equate relationships and connection with a loss of freedom.

Fast-forward to adulthood. I’m talking to this guy on a dating app. I remember it was a Saturday afternoon. If I am honest, I was mostly interested in the guy. I only wanted to access the practice because of him. It is so funny to recognize what a conflicting bag of drives I was. Although committed to female empowerment, I was still attached to the idea of being saved by a man. Our first conversation was easy, and we continued talking, going on to develop a really beautiful connection.

But my OM journey was to be my own. I remember that my first introductory event coincided with an office party. My colleagues started drinking at 4pm but I had been told that OM events were sober, so I didn’t imbibe. As the hours went by, I felt more and more detached and alienated from my colleagues. This made the contrast with the OM event palpable.

The feeling was so warm, lively, and connected there. It was like entering another realm of reality. Conversations were natural and went below the surface easily. And as for the men, they were a whole other animal! I had never seen so many open, sensitive, and intuitive men in one room! I signed up to learn OM right away.

In my first OM, I think my stroker was more nervous than I was! Up until then, I had always seen myself as the vulnerable one in my interactions with men. This first OM, then, was marked not so much by the sensations I felt, but in understanding that the guy and I were in the experience together. I could equally support and protect him.

In my second OM, I was almost on the verge of tears. I felt like I couldn’t escape my thoughts, and I grew frustrated and upset. Someone told me it was a very common experience for people in the practice to cry. I could see how the disconnection I felt from my body was directly related to my inability to climax during sex—I was always in my head.

I discovered that the practice of OM makes you really conscious of yourself by amplifying your patterns. OM made it really clear for me how conscious or unconscious I was of my wants and needs. It was as if, lying there in the nest, I had two choices. I could let my stroker do whatever felt right for them, even when they were not on the spot, or I could discover the power to ask for what I really wanted. Cultivating my voice meant acknowledging all the ways that I would stop myself asking for what I wanted. I had to explore what it would take to ask clearly and directly.

I practiced regularly, with a variety of people. It started to slowly change me. I let go of body shame and connected to that place inside of me that knows what I want—and I acquired the tools to ask for it. I gradually dropped into my body more and more and learned how to work with the huge amounts of electricity coursing through my cells.

I discovered that the purpose of this energy isn’t confined to making sex satisfying. Being connected to my body means being connected to truth. Not only is this a reliable way to make decisions, but also the way I can tell when I am relating to others from a place of fantasy rather than what is real. As I learned this, the most extraordinary thing happened. I let go of the need for climax entirely. There is a difference between male and female orgasm, and I found that I could have beautiful sensual experiences with a lover even in the absence of climax. I let go of the need to get somewhere with intimacy and connection, and the result is that I often climax now when I least expect it.

One of the most profound shifts for me, though, has been in my understanding of what true power is. I once thought that power came from intelligence. I had put all this energy into becoming an academic and human rights activist in pursuit of that power. Coming from Israel, a conflicted place, I was driven by guilt. I believed that I owed it to my country to be politically engaged. That identity dissolved in the intensity of OM, and it became clear to me how change really happens. There is a need for alignment between mind and body—this is how we create lasting change in the world. People have to be touched in a way that they have never been touched before.

This is my new activism.

I walked away from what I thought was my dream job in a university, and I am building a startup as a gender consultant, fostering communication between the masculine and the feminine. It has been two-and-a-half years since I began to OM, and I now trust in my power to manifest my desires and give myself what I need on a daily basis. I OM, I exercise, I eat better quality food, and I foster deep connections with others. For me, there is no other way to bring what’s inside of me out into the world, and for this, I am so grateful to OM.