Welcome to a space for the spirituality of gay and bisexual men. We have within ourselves the resources for our healing, liberation, and growth. Connecting with each other, we encounter the grace to lay hold of a richer, juicier life. Losing ourselves in deep play, we rediscover the bigger, freer, more joyous selves we're capable of becoming. Here I share my interest in personal and communal ritual, making art that expresses my inner life, and an intentional practice of erotic spirituality.
I’ve been masturbating since I sprang my first boner in the
1950’s. But now, bathing in the afterglow of a prolonged session of
self-pleasuring, I wonder about the relationship between the frantic jacking of
that long-mutated teen and the erotic spiritualism of this now mellowed elder.
I still can recall the combination of surprise, embarrassment and
fear that accompanied each unsolicited erection, occurring at the most
inopportune times, as well as my fascination that became an addiction with
ejaculation. Watching my penis squirt, feeling the heat of cum ropes across my
belly and chest, fingering the congealing jism marmalading my emergent fur,
smelling and finally tasting this wondrous evidence of my manhood became an end
in itself. Jacking off became a conscious choice rather than a poorly
understood biologic imperative. A few years later, when the first hand that was
not mine jacked my cock and subsequently the first mouth sucked me off, and
finally the first time I fucked a vagina and then an ass, I was still
performing solo-sex: I was pleasuring my penis. I sexually engaged with others
not so much as to pleasure my partner-of-the-moment or even achieve equal
pleasuring, but rather to find additional opportunities and additional means of
satisfying the demands of my cock.
But those demands had morphed from pleasuring to a means of
release: release of anxiety, of frustration, of anger, and of dissatisfaction.
I jacked multiple times each day beginning with my morning toilet, in bathroom
stalls at work, while driving the car, behind bushes and trees, and finally in
an attempt to achieve nocturnal sleep. And the more I jacked, the less
satisfactory: the release had become repetitive motion without any
Meaningless middle-aged masturbation coincided with my inability
to effectively suppress my long-known awareness of my homosexual identity. The
Net had arrived, and I was able to read coming-out stories of older men as well
I introduced myself to edging. I began gradually to realize that
manipulating my cock and balls, then my nipples, then my entire body surface
and finally my ass delivered (and still juicily delivers) a physical, emotional,
and eventually spiritual experience completely novel to me. Through Body
Electric and Men’s Tantra workshops as well as the generosity of a few very
special men, I allowed myself the freedom to engage, explore, and emote in the
presence of like-minded seekers. In short, I not only accept my True-Self but
became able to share that True-Self with others. Today engaging myself sexually
alone or with other men is no longer in either case solo-sex for me; it is a
continuous journey within sacred erotic space accompanied at all times by my
beloveds, whether they are physically present or not.
How different my personal development might have been had that
testosterone OD’d boy-man been inducted into manhood by this experienced elder.