One of the things that struck me most when I first moved to Canada was the lack of human touch/affection people had towards each other. I found "most" (but luckily not all) people were cold and distant and if you accidentally touched them by patting their arm, leg or shoulder (which I seem to do a lot) while engaged in conversation their body language would quite clearly state the discomfort of that physical contact. There were times when my warmth and touch accompanied by my outgoing personality were misunderstood for sexual advances (I now automatically tell boys, and sometimes girls: I'm just a friendly gal, please keep your clothes).
In Tantrism, the first thing is having the experience of touch, of profound contact with things, with the universe, without mental commotion. Everything begins there: touching the universe deeply. Shouldn't that apply to humans as well? Is being affectionate and showing that affection by way of touch wrong?
I rather have melted ice cream on my lips than biting into a popsicle. I prefer that ice cream to be coconut...mmm, mmm, good!
Because we all need a little Zen
(I love the words of this poem and its sensuality)
Show me your mysteries, I'll show you mine
As we embark outside this space and time.
Clasping hands we'll join the dance divine,
Flowing gently toward eternal rhyme.
Tell me your fantasies, I'll tell you mine
Show me your ecstasies that flow as wine.
Together we'll reach the highest peak sublime,
Drinking deeply from the spring of time.
Try as we might...
So many chambers in which to dwell
To reach the heights...
From the bottom of the wishing well
With second sight...
How we ascend only time will tell
To the Temple of Living Light...
Far beyond heaven and hell
Bare your heart to me, I'll give you mine
Though all alone we might be flying blind.
Through embrace fire and ice entwine,
Surging and merging as the ocean tide.
Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.
A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play; his labor and his leisure; his mind and his body; his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing, and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always appears to be doing both.
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