The feeling residue of the ‘tantric sex’ dream was with me almost all day yesterday. That phrase tantric sex actually I’m using humorously as it in no way depicts or describes the experience. Though it probably is that! I dont even know what tantric sex is, as in I’ve never read about it or tried to practice it. And I actually have had little to no interest in having sex for a long time. Though like many of us I have experienced the ‘not two-ness’ of sex at its best.
I spent the day, not in a sexually aroused way, though there was a physical aliveness energetically to the felt sense, but in a fully lit up inside way. A tremendous balance. As if I had so much ballast the boat couldn’t tip over even if I tried.
A physically registered remembering of the sense and feeling fearlessness.
Of connection with it all as I moved through the scenes of the day. Moving through scenes and textures and experiences….very little if any fear. Normally only experienced out in nature in the woods, it extended to the ‘man made’ world.
Whenever I got distracted by a thought, I returned to the address of the basic state, that sense of ‘this is what we are’ experienced during the dream. But most of the time if thoughts arrived, it was like leaving a phone to ring, I just didn’t pick up. They came and went. I picked up a few times and noticed and dropped.
Not two.
And all the appearances and experiences of difference – I could see them as what they are, different notes of the one experiencing itself as many, in variation of everything.
The splitting into difference by a friction, the rubbing of experiencing ‘otherness’ and gradations and difference and variety issues from that. Whether that difference appears as the sound of the car engine, the feeling of water on the skin in the rain, another person, a tinge of back pain, the dog, an annoying noise…different notes, shades of colour of the one. Not two.
All this the result of friction, not in a negative sense but in the way that one material is rubbing against another….it creates heat, energy.
The actual feeling of it, the absence of anything to defend. In this context it doesn’t make sense. Fear didn’t occur in the dream and yesterday it didn’t for me either very much.
There were tinges that came from a thought here and there. But nothing much threatening. If I wandered off inside I’d bring myself back to that full trust and ease. The basic state. I know it’s address, rigpa. The dream made a beacon of that address.
It was so interesting to experience life without fear. How completely back home it felt. That place has always been there, it is here right now. There were no objections from the ego. That must have just been instantly absorbed up and dissolved automatically in the field of oneness. Like a wave dissolving in the sea.
The one needs to rub against a thing to experience, a friction, a movement, to experience itself. The ecstasy of being itself. In the dream the friction, movement…..was a physical embrace with another being. an experience of otherness. But not really two.
When during the slow sex in the dream and we stopped completely, a subtler feeling of ‘two-ness’ combined with one-ness at the same time was experienced. Without the movement. The friction was reduced, the oneness more apparent. The playfulness of motive of doing that for the experiencing of it.
Everything out and about yesterday was met with “not two”, even an encounter with the perhaps schizophrenic youth mumbling to his Carer that he will kill everyone. He was in the pool swimming nearby when I was there, saying some nonsensical things.
I noted it was challenging to experience ‘not two’ with him while acknowledging it was so whether easy or not.
Then an elderly man sharing his experience of having a disturbed mentally granddaughter. I just listened. Felt kindness and compassion. ‘Not two’ easy. Some experiences are easier to recognise not two-ness.
Out in the woods in the morning a man had left a war novel for a passer by to pick up. It is not my taste of reading. No need for judgement of the man’s taste in stories. Or any thought. Variation in the ‘not two’.
Temperature variations there in the Health Club, the cool changing room air on bare skin, the even cooler water, the deep heat of the jacuzzi, coolness agin getting out. Variations of the one, no need to get attached to preferences.
Walking to the loo here in the flat, across wooden floorboards, onto the hall carpet, then to ceramic tiles of the toilet. The friction of feet meeting the surfaces experiencing variations of texture and sound.
This is interesting! And that’s just a variation with this is boring. Not two.
And love. There is an absence of a need to mention that. It might be that it requires two-ness to experience. Or is that our name for recognising one-ness in apparent two-ness.
This dog knows how to relax this morning.
Learning to Rest with it All 