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Do YOU!

Disclaimer: This is not written in the elaborate, well-thought-out style to which you are accustomed. The writing may falter, but if authenticity is what you like and enjoy, stay tuned. There’s plenty coming!

Goodness! So much for me writing in diary form from now on. Where did I disappear to? How ridiculous! Who am I trying to kid? Gym four times a week, working in the family business part-time, housekeeping, meals, mothering to the kids who both still live at home. On the odd occasion when I have some time to spare, my brain goes to mash and my muses decide to take a nap. I feel so guilty about not making time to write that now even that guilty feeling is hampering my feeble efforts to put pen to paper. As the muscles in my body have begun to develop and become obvious (better late than never, right?), my brain muscle is floppy and reluctant to go into workout mode. Why can’t I do both? I am almost fifty-six, not seventy-six! It is scary shit when you feel the beginning of that decline in your abilities. People always say time flies, but it is never more apparent how fleeting our lives are than when your body’s faculties start to fail.

Anyhow, enough of that depressing stuff. It is Saturday today and one of my kids happens to be on her way to Berlin and the other in the UK. My husband is arriving here today. I am in the Balearic Islands, alone. Doesn’t happen often, so I intend to make the most of it. After 30 years of marriage and twenty-seven of intense parenting, I really look forward to being alone. I look forward to sleeping alone; to not feel that pressure to have sex unless I feel like it; to not have to succumb to the expectations of another. I have relatives who think it is important to keep the other one happy, if you know what I mean. To them I say, f**k that! There is no greater sex than the one that is mutually desired, sought and enjoyed in equal measure. I would rather have those occasions every now and then than fall into routine, dutiful, predictable, and almost mechanical sex. The eternal insurmountable disparity between how men and women perceive what a sexual relationship should be. Who is right and who is wrong? Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn. I know what makes me whole and happy and I am not about to give up decades of brave souls fighting for women’s equality and liberation so that I can keep someone by my side. If they know what is good for them, they’ll stay. If they walk, it is their loss and most certainly my gain as I continue to do ME and retain my integrity, dignity, and joy. Geez, how did I end up talking about sex? It is as good a subject as any, I guess. Well, it is a better subject than most. After all, sex as well as money, or rather greed, makes the world go round and round and round and up and down, up and down. Lol!

It is a bit too windy to go out on the boat today and there is a red alert for a DANA; a Spanish term for a weather phenomenon characterized by a cold, isolated depression at high altitudes. It’s also known as a “cold drop” and is associated with heavy rainfall and potential flooding in Spain and the western Mediterranean. Last Dana in 2024 killed 234 people in Valencia. It was horrific! Right now, the storm is covering a large area in the North of Spain. I am not 100% it will hit the Balearic Islands, but I have been out at sea here when the weather was on the turn and it is not a fun experience. Boat rolling up and down as if going on an endless roller-coaster. No thanks! This links back to what makes me happy. Men like to show off, race each other at sea displaying their small-dick syndrome for all to see. It is all about who has the strongest conviction that they are Kings (of the sea or otherwise) if only for those few minutes they are thrusting their engines to the max. It makes for an extremely uncomfortable passage for the rest of us mere mortals, but their misconceived divinely given right to be adored and admired must be preserved and defended at all costs. Hey Ho, there is always another sunny day on these islands, so no need to fret. I am grateful that I and those whom I love are alive and as well as can be; I have food and drink on my table and my conscience is at peace. I don’t need thrills in my life, and I most certainly don’t need to prove to anyone that my life is worthier or better than theirs. I am just eternally grateful that I still have a life, and I am the only captain at its helm. Happy sailing!

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When sex is no longer sexy

I would sure like to have a crystal ball that gives me insight into people’s brains, into our dreams, my dreams. Wouldn’t it save us tons of money on doctors, therapists, and meds if we could understand earlier on in the journey who we are and what makes us tick?

What is it with recurrent dreams? What is the point of rehearsing in our head a chapter of our lives that will forever remain inconclusive no matter how many endings we dream to that old story? It is not like we can change its outcome by our subconscious playing out different scenarios on different nights. And yet, the brain regurgitates that same chain of events over and over. To what end? There has to be a point to so much time of our lives consumed by an alternate reality where things pan out differently to what actually took place; where we are offered a glimmer of hope that those chapters of our lives we resent, do not define us, because there is still a chance to act differently, to explore new choices.

My most recurrent dream is one where I enter into a sexually charged relationship with an ex-boyfriend with whom I never even held hands or kissed. We were extremely attracted to each other. That is what brought us together in the first place. The chemistry was tangible, but we were a couple of very shy and inexperienced youngsters, not ready to handle what would have unfolded, had we let our passions run free. Unfortunately, we lived in different cities during the winter, and so our only form of contact was the occasional meet up and frequent letters, which did not help matters. Eventually, our determination to make it work dimmed and what initially was countless promising sparks between us grew into dynamite threatening to explode with every exchange. Frustrated and heartbroken I broke it off in the end, because I could not bear him flirting with other girls in front of me in an attempt to ignite my desire so I would be the one to take that first step. He went on to meet another older more experienced woman who clearly initiated him into the wonders of sex within a loving committed relationship. Indeed, he married her and lived happily ever after or so I hear. I am not saying sex cannot be fantastic outside a relationship. I am just saying personally, I reach worthier heights when the connection is both spiritual and physical, when the souls as well as the bodies are harmoniously intertwined. Sex for the sake of sex is as exciting to me as drinking water when I am thirsty, frankly. We met up many years later and though we were both married with kids by then, one brief but intense interlocking of our eyes is all it took for me to know he wondered as much as I did what if we had both behaved differently. I deeply believe in spiritual connection and I am no clairvoyant, but I am pretty certain I appear in his dreams as often as he in mine.

That was back in the 80s when sex was still a ‘sacred thing’ a special ritual that happened between people who felt an inexplicable bond, an unstoppable urge to fuse into one; to be one and the same, if only for a few exceptional moments. These days, sex is all around us, is forced upon us; trading in sex has even become a widely accepted profession for so many. It is no longer a case of I resort to prostitution because I cannot make ends meet any other way, because I cannot sustain myself and those dependent on me any other way. Sex sells and it is easy to shop for it and make considerable money from it pretty effortlessly and quickly. Unfortunately though, it is not just pushed on to those who want to consume it or buy it, but forced on us wherever we look, wherever we are. This is particularly apparent in the entertainment industry and social media. It is not longer a question of personal choice but of forcefulness, of manipulating the herd into certain behavioural patterns and morals or lack of; normalizing even amongst our youngest what should be something special and wonderful in its uniqueness.

I missed the ‘sanctity’ that used to go hand in hand with the process of meeting someone and falling in love, or maybe just discovering each other emotionally, intellectually, and physically. Now it is all so void of any romance, any mystery, any longevity, in essence of any meaning. We trade partners like we change socks and values like trust, respect, humility, gentleness, kindness, honesty have all become dinosaurs too frightened to rear their heads in a world moving so fast, consuming it all so fast, even each other, that one wonders what humanity will do next to satisfy its ravenous appetite for indulgence and self satisfaction.

Is there anything sacred any more?