Losing My Virginity

I went to my first big music festival last weekend and it became an amazing experience once I got out of my own way.  I was invited by my friend James, a seasoned Burning Man veteran, a self-described Lothario of music festivals for whom this event was barely foreplay.  He toted me around the expansive festival grounds, introducing me to his seemingly countless friends as a “festival virgin.”  This bothered me just a little bit because I hate to be seen as inexperienced in anything, the virgin who “might not do it right.”  Furthermore, the loathed virgin gets the wrong kind of attention.  She is the one everyone is worried about so people either hover over her or ignore her, neither of which is the kind of attention the virgin wants.

In addition to James’ countless festival friends, there were thousands of people decades younger than me who seem to fit into the experience effortlessly. I was surrounded by all these fortunate not-virgins who were experts at having fun and being in the moment.  I felt like I had been left behind somehow and needed to get caught up with everyone else in the crowd who were way ahead of me.  The fact is I married a bit young in life to an old soul, which pulled me off the conveyor belt of life experiences most of my peers had during their younger single years.  This young marriage ended after 16 years, catapulting me into my youth in my 40s.

Fortunately, the electricity of the event helped me transcend the sting of the label my friend James playfully slapped on me. I let go of the judgment of my inexperience, joined the present moment and devoured what was on offer.  I also realized people probably couldn’t see my inexperience nor did they care about my age, so I danced and let myself be enveloped in the music. Nothing could make me not a virgin other than surrendering to the experience.  This is why I came, to be myself, to feel the experience, to be consumed.  To the throngs of non-virgins, I am just another joyful face in the crowd and that gave me permission to let go.  So I danced as I am and forgot the virgin I was.

In my deferred youth, I’ve discovered a lot of experiences years after my peers.  One night stands, electronic music, marathons, the freedom to choose what I want when I want it. I love it all.  I realize as I reflect on this that I approach each of these new experiences with the energy of a virgin— rabidly enthusiastic, unsure of myself, a little uncomfortable in my skin but ready to cross the chasm.  And in this reflection I realize I love losing my virginity in all experiences.  Like a virgin, I need to get the first time out of the way so there can be a second and a third time so I can eventually emerge into the expanse of just being surrendered in the moment.  When I get out of my own way, I am a Lothario of life, with endless newness before me. 

Hitachi: RIP

Seriously, this isn’t cool.  My vibrator broke, ahem, mid session.  So rude.  Strange feelings arose from this incident, reminiscent of the feeling of men letting me down in my life.  In the middle of something that felt really good, the momentum just stopped.

Rather than figure out what the problem may be, I decided to go shopping for a new one.  I didn’t event try to see if a cord was frayed or if the plug just came out of its socket. My immediate solution was REPLACE IMMEDIATELY.  There are some new models out there that are really interesting.  Some have interesting features, like a vibrating rhythm that connects to my iPod that mimics the music I’m playing (this is the front runner). Others look like they should be part of the industrial design collection at MoMA.  Most of the models under consideration seem way better than what I have, however at a very high price.  Spiritual perspective that I have about all things large and small in my life, I’m sure this isn’t just about the vibrator.

My pattern in dissatisfying jobs, friendships, and men is to replace immediately, without consideration for what might be worth salvaging.  I abandon, I flee, I shut down.  I blame it on lack of time… no time to reflect, to mend, to consider the other player in a dynamic that feels broken.

With this reflection in mind, I’m going to give my Hitachi another chance and see if I just over-heated her.  She’s been with me for a long time, over ten years, which is a long time for any appliance.  And maybe I’ll stick to my man for a while too.  Sometimes he’s not plugged in, sometimes his cords are frayed, but I think I’m going to give him some time too.  On the whole, he’s been a really good companion and he hits the spot on the reg.  He also knows how important my Hitachi is to me.  When I told him about it, he replied: "OMG, worse than the Holocaust." He gets me, so he gets me.

Baby Steps

I want to be a writer, whatever that means.  I haven't really written anything for years.  Someone more quotable than me said that the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, but I haven’t been in the mood to take any steps in recent years.

My biggest problem with this whole writing thing is that it takes so much darn EFFORT.  The words can only be expressed as fast as I can type, which isn't all that fast.  It is time consuming, requires thought and consideration.  It is tedious.  My preference for most tedious tasks is to outsource them.  I can outsource most of the tedium I have in my life for $10-15 an hour, a sum I can readily afford at the moment.  But the writing, no one can do that for me.  So today I’ll take a first step.  A tiny, 150 word step.  Hooray me.