Finding the RightnessBY KEVIN
I used to be searching for something that would patch up the holes in my life. Essentially, I was trying to find paints and wallpaper to decorate the facade. You don't actually feel yourself building a facade. It's like throwing your change in a jar when you get home, just a few coins each day. After a while, the jar fills up, and it's really heavy, and you don't know what to do with all that weight.
I tried to project the image of a man who was intelligent and cool and had it all together. I wanted people to look at the facade and think, Yeah, he's really cool. Let's go talk to him. In fact, I was barely hanging onto a tiny shred of ego. I definitely wanted people to talk to me, but I had no idea how to communicate what I was feeling. So I got by with a brooding facade, as if I was too cool for other people. If someone didn't approach me or talk to me, then I would give no indication that it mattered.
Behind the facade was a fear of doing the wrong thing. I was afraid of asking somebody for a favor and getting turned down. I was afraid of opening up and having someone see what was inside, seeing the real me and responding with total disapproval. Orgasmic Meditation helped me move through these fears and rewire how I interact with people.
I found out about OM online, and it originally attracted me because it was different from anything else out there. I decided to take a class to learn more. I needed interesting stories to tell that would make someone connect with me or love me. At parties, people would talk about their travel experiences, or the celebrities they'd met, and I decided to focus on sexuality. I thought OM would give me a wild, outlandish experience I could talk about. Instead of flamboyance, I found a calm and beautiful reverence, a practice of distilled focus. It turned out I didn't need flashy, I just needed to slow down.
For my first OM, I was very nervous. I was recently out of a relationship where I lost all sense of trust in myself, and I felt like everything in me was wrong. So when I was getting ready for that first OM, I was really scared of doing something bad. The woman arrived, and she took off her pants, and we got in the nest. The rigid societal structure in me was freaking out. It felt like we were breaking all the rules of how men and women relate to each other. She had warned me ahead of time that her clitoral hood was larger than average, and I might need to pull it back farther than I'd expect. She was very clear about her anatomy, and she said it so calmly, with no shame, explaining how her genitals worked so we could have a better experience.
I put on the gloves and took some lube. Before I started stroking, I got a little bit of lube on my left thumb. Even though I was trying to pull back the hood, it kept slipping away from my thumb. I was in a state of panic, trying to move the hood so I could touch her clitoris, and that was literally all I focused on through the whole experience. I didn't feel anything happening in my body. When it was time to share frames, I could only describe how my foot fell asleep, which is a feeling in my body, but it's not like these incredible electric sensations that had been described to me.
Afterwards I had an urge to offer her tea to give something back. She was a kind person who had taken pity on a poor soul and given me her charity. But in fact, as I gradually realized, an OM isn't transactional. It's a shared experience. She knew it was my first OM. I didn't trick her. I didn't have to feel guilty or like I owed her anything.
OM gave me permission to treat an agreement with respect, and not to throw on extra meaning or pomp and circumstance. The practice was clearly defined. We agreed she would come over, we would practice together, and then she would take off. Her leaving was not a rejection. I had permission to not feel like a failure or like a bad host.
So even though that first OM was a mess, I immediately felt a sense of rightness, a confidence where you allow your own body and intuition to guide you. It was the first step in building up my trust in myself. As I continued to OM, I got more in touch with my body. I learned to focus on the other person without forgetting myself. I noticed that when my finger strayed from the most lit up spot on her clitoris, I felt a gripping sensation in my body, which often meant I needed to make an adjustment in my stroking.
One day, I was OMing with a woman I'd known for a while but had never OMed with before. In the midst of the session, she started moaning, making little noises that sounded like pleasure. It made me think, Okay, this is where the sensation is, so I'll keep focusing on this spot. But something in my gut kept pulling at me, saying, No, that's wrong.
It's challenging for a guy to have enough rightness to trust what he feels rather than solely going off what is being communicated. In this case, I was stroking this woman and thinking to myself, “I hear what spots have you moan, and I don't think any of that is true. There's something else underneath.” If you call someone on a bluff, you have to be able to back it up. At this point, I didn’t have much to back it up other than my felt sense. So I continued to stroke, even though it didn't feel right. Afterwards, it stuck with me. It left a residue. Later, I realized she was likely performing sounds to validate me as a stroker. My intuition picked up on something true, even if it didn’t have all of the information about what was happening.
That experience gave me a lot more confidence in my feelings, and it's extended into other parts of my life. If a friend is yelling at me and feeling accusatory, I can go inward to investigate and notice, That doesn't feel like me. If I have enough balance at that point in time, I can tune in to them and try to see what they're going through, what's actually making them upset. I see it as a superpower, to be able to sit with a grievance someone's having with me, feel their pain, and not immediately take it on as my problem.
In so many ways, OM has helped me trust my sense of what's going on around me. I have a lot more ownership of who I am.