Two weeks ago, just after returning from holidays, I wrote about how quickly I felt the pull to speed up again. There were clients to see, essays to write, a retreat to organise, emails to answer, admin to do… So many tasks jostling for my attention. I could feel the pressure creeping in, the push to do, the feeling of life being something to get through rather than something to experience.
So, having caught myself out (yet again!), I’ve been consciously slowing down so that I can engage with the moment I’m actually in. I still get everything done – and I enjoy the doing of it so much more.
And nowhere does this apply more than sex.
When more isn’t more
Our cultural obsession with doing doesn’t stop at the bedroom door.
We’re obsessed with doing in sex. Movement creates stimulation. So it’s logical that more movement creates more stimulation. And faster, harder, more intense movement creates even more stimulation!
And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s absolutely true that intense sex can be wonderful - passionate, joyful, exhilarating. But when we come to equate the intensity of our pleasure with the intensity of our stimulation, we can miss another dimension of erotic experience altogether. Because sometimes, when the stimulation lessens, our capacity to feel expands.
This is an erotic capacity we can develop - the capacity to become exquisitely aware of subtle sensation. To feel more not by doing more, but by becoming more present to what is already there.
And some of the most profound moments in lovemaking can happen when nobody appears to be doing very much at all.
Not because nothing is happening. But because everything is.
The spaces in-between
Imagine…
…a shared breath.
The warmth of another body.
The awareness of being together.
The almost imperceptible movements that arise naturally when two people stop trying to make something happen.
The pauses are no longer empty.
They become alive.
Imagine...
...the barest of touches.
Or not quite a touch at all.
Just the knowledge of the presence of the other.
Feel it.
Not just on your skin, but throughout your body. In every cell. A subtle awareness beginning to awaken.
The warmth where your bodies meet.
The rhythm of shared breath.
The gentle rise and fall of a chest beneath your hand.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing to achieve.
Just noticing.
Really noticing.
These subtle currents of pleasure are so easily overlooked when we’re busy doing.
But when we do notice, sometimes we sense a wave beginning in the pelvis, or in the heart. Sometimes it seems to flow through the whole body, softening, opening, expanding.
You don’t create it, you give it space to emerge.
Now I want to stress that this doesn’t mean that stillness is somehow better than movement.
You can move from quietness into intensity and back again. You can be passionate, energetic, wild - and profoundly present.
In fact, the contrast can be exquisite. Try moving intensely, then become still, and feel what remains, what arises. Feel how much is happening in the apparent absence of activity.
Sinking in to sync in
Back when I was writing my dissertation, I described sex as a dyadic, movement-based, embodied mindfulness practice.
And while I don’t always use that language, it’s a concept that is very much part of my approach to lovemaking.
Because presence in sex is not passive. It’s an active, embodied state of awareness.
You are present within yourself, while simultaneously being present to the other, and to what is happening between you.
I call it Sinking In to Sync In.
First we sink into ourselves - into the body, the breath, sensation, awareness.
And from that place we can begin to sync in with another - to attune, respond, move together, become resonant.
It’s mindfulness within and between.
And this is where another erotic capacity begins to develop. And by that I don’t mean simply our capacity for physical pleasure, but our capacity for ecstasy, for rapture. Our capacity to experience expansive, whole-body states I associate with the Mystical flavour of sex.
Not mystical because they’re mysterious or esoteric, but because, for a while, the boundaries can soften. Awareness expands. We experience ourselves deeply while simultaneously experiencing a profound sense of connection with another.
The capacity for ecstasy
Years ago I wrote a blog post called the ecstasy is found in the spaces in-between. And because I believe that even more strongly today, I’m giving the same title to this essay.
That isn’t because I’ve become less interested in passion or intensity – a good shag can be a very fine thing if that’s the mood you’re in - but because I’ve discovered that awareness itself can become exquisitely erotic.
So in actuality, my invitation is neither to move less nor to move more. It’s to develop our capacity to feel, to be able to sink deeply enough into ourselves that we can truly sync in with another. And to discover just how much is happening in those delicious spaces in-between.
Over the years I’ve also discovered that this spacious, embodied way of making love can profoundly change our experience of orgasm itself. So that rather than being something we chase, orgasm becomes something that unfolds.
That’s where I’ll to go next, in two weeks’ time. Until then, I invite you to slow down, pay attention, and feel into those delicious spaces in-between…
The Salon
Please join me in the video below as I expand on this essay in an informal chatty way.
If you’d like to explore these ideas with me beyond the theoretical, please consider joining me at my next Couples Retreat in the Blue Mountains, 16–18 October.
It’s three days devoted to slowing down, reconnecting and putting these ideas into practice - deepening your intimacy, connection and erotic aliveness.
There are still a few places available. You can find more information and bookings here.
Your wonderful words are so true, resonate so much and are such a relief I could cry. Thank you!