Huggles

In card shops these days, there are plenty of others things to buy than a mere card. Actually the cards themselves seem to cover all eventualities these days. The other day, I saw a card in a shop that said “Thank you to my Classroom Assistant”. I wonder what will happen to that stock when the government cuts mean that there are no longer any of these vital workers left in our schools.

Anyhow, what else do they stock in these card shops? Well, any little non-essential you can think of. Yes, there is wrapping paper and sellotape but there are also trinket-like presents that on the surface seem to be little extras of presents right up until you go to check the price and realise that they cost more than or the same as a newly released CD. Most of them are really tacky. There’s the fridge magnets and the coffee cups or the useless book of quotes or a glass vase with some factory processed message surrounding it.

And there are the teddies. Teddy bears seem to have made a come-back, not that they were ever lost but there does seem an abundance of them, and one of the ones that I see most frequently in shops is a little good-looking bear wearing a red t-shirt with the following words emblazoned across its chest – “Need a hug?”

Need a hug? Who doesn’t?

But what does a hug actually entail? Are all hugs the same?

Now I admit that I am an extremely needy human being. Bodily contact of any sort is wonderful for me. I like to reach out and hug people that I care about, including friends and family but the hugs that I give them are different to the hugs that I give and receive from the special people in my life, and particularly from the lover in my life.

The hug and embrace from a lover fills the soul and rejuvenates in a way that no other hug can. Standing or sitting or lying within a hug just hits a button in me, not necessarily a sexual one though that also happens. It is more about an unspoken connection, a quiet moment of solitude and togetherness that just feels right. In that moment, there is no other world. It is all there in the human touch, the human warmth and the shared desire to be held and cared for.

But there are different hugs. There’s a greeting hug, which is always lovely but I sometimes prefer the second hug of the day more. The first one is like an acknowledgement of a relationship, a friendship but the second hug is more of a “You’re here, I’m here, we are together in our separate and conjoined worlds”.
There’s the goodbye hug too; sometimes clingy, sometimes needy because however small the time gap, you know that you are not going to get that hug, that human beings contact in the immediate future. There is no opportunity for hugs once that goodbye hug has been given; not until the next time. The goodbye hug is as important as the greeting hug in the manner in which it is given and received. I wouldn’t necessarily say I like the goodbye hug because I don’t like saying goodbye but it is an essential part of the separation and fills me with enough warmth to keep me going as I slip back into another world where hugs have never been part of the equation.

But the most special hugs are the spontaneous ones; the ones where you are occupied in doing other things and a passing hug is instantly given without behest, without demand, merely with thoughtfulness. They are simply given because in that single moment, it is the instinctive thing to do. I adore these hugs.

Sometimes these hugs are less than instinctive. Sometimes they are thought-out and a decision is made to hug – to reiterate an attitude or thought or positive emotion or feeling. Sometimes hugs are given and received because it just seems the right thing to do.

And there are the hugs in bed, lying together, moulding bodies together before and after making love. These hugs are in a league of their own. They require no words and are difficult to describe. These hugs are heartfelt and passionate, with or without the accompanying fingering or breast-clutching. They are the essence of oneness, and create an atmosphere of lovingness that even glorious fucking cannot do. I love those hugs.

Recently, my lover sent me a note explaining the importance for him about friendship, and how he needs friends, and how he needs friends to hug when I am not there, and even if I was there all or most of the time, he would still need these friends to hug and kiss and have sex with.

“Several of my friends seem to be in need of a male body to sleep with from time to time – who need hugs and kisses and the occasional fuck”.

And my lover is the man to give, and receive because the one thing about hugs is that if they are done properly, there is a seamless connection between the giving and the receiving.

I empathise. I understand completely their need and their desire to receive and give these hugs. They are important. Hugs are vital. In some ways, they are more vital than the act of penetrative sex, and perhaps that is why I have taken so long to come to terms with them. Sex is sex. It is an animalistic act in its rawest sense, and far too often we are hung up on what penetration actually means. Of course it is a bonding of bodily parts and of course it is a type of giving oneself to another but even when it is done with added feelings of attraction and affection, it does not necessarily give another person rights and it should not enable people to make assumptions about the nature of a relationship. Hugs shouldn’t either but in some ways there is something more intimate about a spontaneous hug, especially when it is given in the warmth and comfort of a bed at the end and the beginning of the day.

As I said, I empathise because I don’t actually get enough hugs, and I bloody well need them, now more than ever.

I would love to say that I miss that; the goodnight and the good morning hug but you cannot really miss something that you have never really had. And I have never really had that at all, apart from the utterly sporadic times I have managed to spend the night with my lover (without calling him a fucking bastard!).

Of course I am slightly envious of these hugs because they are the type of hugs that I have always wanted with a partner; to feel loved and to love as a lovely day draws to a close and the new one is released with the hopefulness of a hug. And that is before you even get onto the instinctual hugs that happen through the night, when bodily contact is almost desperately desired.

Sometimes, my lover cannot understand my hang-up about the sharing of night-time sleep. He says it is just sleeping, often without sexual intercourse, and often I have asked myself why I am so bothered by it. Not that I am quite so bothered these days. As it is – that is my new mantra. And despite outward appearance, I do want him to have the sort of warmth that I cannot get as I sleep night after night after night without that bodily contact.
No wonder I am a little insane.

But I think, in one of my moments of clarity, that perhaps it is this. Perhaps it is about the hugs or the potential for hugs much more than cock and cunt combination. And perhaps it is because I have never been held throughout the night, nobody has ever reached out to touch me or to hold me during the night, and I have never woken to the total embrace of the person that I am sleeping with – obviously apart from the times when I have slept with my lover.

Of course it is not only hugs. Recently I have had a period of not having penetrative sex. Over the next couple of weeks I am not going to have penetrative sex either, and I am not very good at not having sex now that I have discovered the need and desire that lay so horribly dormant for so many years.

My poor play toy is going through batteries at a rate of knots at the moment. Instead of a hug, the last thing I do at night is wank myself off with my dildo. The first thing I do in the morning is give myself another orgasm and sometimes, if I am awoken full of solitude in the middle of the night, unable to get back to sleep, I have another go with my pal to relax me into a state of oblivion.

But Satori it is not. Even yesterday, as I plunged my Roger Rabbit into the depths of my pussy, I realised that it was all very exciting, and yes, I really want to see some photos of me doing that to myself, and yes, my cunt reacted to this hard piece of equipment wriggling around inside me, but it is plastic! It is not human, and even the most expensive vibrator in the world cannot compensate for either its human equivalent or more importantly the feelings and connection that come with it.......... and the hugs. No dildo is going to give me a hug after I have had an orgasm. No amount of wanking is going to give a wanker a needed embrace to perpetuate and continue the pleasantries of climax into something more life-giving, and I am talking generally here, not just about me.

As readers will know, I am a strong advocate of masturbation both on your own and with other people. The other day, for instance, I thoroughly enjoyed the double wank that I gave myself and my lover. And I like nothing more than watching him jerking himself off as he gives my fanny a fisting.
I adore to look at porn, alone or with another – neither of which I/we have done enough of recently, and manipulate the already aroused parts of the body with a gentle or indeed vigorous plunge and tug. And there is a time and a place for erotic activity but nothing is the same as a hug, and nothing on earth can replace the essence and the essentiality of human contact.

So yes, I miss what I have never or too sparingly have had and to some extent, however “as-it-is” it is, I am a little envious of other peoples’ ability to hug my lover in the middle or the beginning of the night. However, the difference between now and a few weeks ago is that I am not riddled with envy. I am not perplexed or overwhelmed by it. I just acknowledge and appreciate its presence.

But just returning to hugs for a while. I have recently been reading a book called “Sex, Sin and Zen” by a Zen Master from the United States called Brad Warner. Over the coming weeks, I shall return to this book, quoting generously and suggesting to all that they should get a copy and have a good read through. It says an awful lot about sex but it says a whole lot more about Zen and how we should be living our lives, collectively and individually. I cannot begin to say how important this book has been to reiterate my views on life and to assist me to come to terms with some dark and destructive emotions.

In one of the chapters, called “Hug is the Drug”, he explains how he went along to see some Indian Saint who was supposedly the master or mistress of hugging. This woman, Amma, now tours the world giving the powerful healing natural high of hugging. Warner describes this weird gathering and how people with pink tickets are allowed to line up and receive a hug from this saintly woman as though her embrace will fix every misdemeanour in their lives. Warner argues, quite rightly that this may not be the case and in actual fact, real compassion, spontaneous action is far more important than any amount of hugs (more on compassion in later blogs).

“Warm smiles and hugs don’t fix everything and they never will”, he clearly states.

And he is right. As much as I yearn for spontaneous hugs, as much as I adore giving and receiving the very best of embraces, they are never going to take away all my darkness, and neither should they. There is more to life than hugs, and like any other wonderful thing, if they become too frequent and too contrived, then they lose all sense of worth and value. Spontaneity is vital too!

But one should also be extremely mindful of the need and the desire for hugs, what they give, how they are received and just how important human touch is, how very, very important.

Need a hug? Yes, I do, and I am fortunate enough to receive plenty of hugs, even if they are not in the middle of the night. But beggars etcetera, and I will happily settle for all the impromptu hugs that I both give and receive and be eternally grateful that I can get them as and when, as it is.

Coupledom and Companionship

Today’s writing is a short offering because I need to get on with some important things.

These last few weeks have been somewhat challenging for a gal like me; all the theorising, the thoughts, the feelings – all intermingled in a delightfully complex tangle.

And despite everything, despite the anguish, the hurt, the genuine pain I have felt, I do mean ‘delightfully’.

Because I suppose the most important thing to do is embrace complexity and realise that occasionally or indeed frequently in our lives we are challenged to the point of exhaustion on some fundamental ways of living. And that has to be a good thing.

It’s not easy. There are still huge fluctuations at the moment. Whilst being seemingly at calm with myself and new situations I find myself in, I can then suddenly find myself in a complete turmoil, which lasts fleetingly but the damage to my equilibrium is done, leaving lingering questions that I know I should dismiss from my mind and get on with feeling and living for the moment of wonderment that I experience all around me so very often.

In my effort to calm myself, I always find writing and reading to be a great comfort. So I took myself to the internet once more for guidance from a more objective standpoint than either my own or my lover’s.
So here is a small quote from one such piece of internet browsing.

“My heart hurt just as if someone had punched a hole through my chest and ripped it out still beating, as in some Aztec sacrifice ritual. Sometimes it hurt really bad. Sometimes it was just a dull persistent pain. Sometimes it hurt for a while and kind of came to a crescendo and then stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. I tried as best I could to let it go. “

Brad  Warner – my new main man!

He goes on to discuss thoughts, feelings, perceptions and sensations, ever changing.

“Some were pleasant. Some were not. Most were neither. They just were........... And sometimes after a long while of feeling great my chest would hurt again. So it goes.”

How utterly refreshing to hear the words from a Zen Master who is big enough to admit to his own irrationalities and his own fluctuating thoughts! And I thought I was losing sight of my ability to be Zen-like! But no. In these small clippings from a most sensational book (so far), I recognised myself and felt great comfort that even the most practiced of Zen Masters were troubled with the same forms of anxiety that I am, and sometimes just couldn’t let go of the thinking.

It also made me think that although these pieces were written by a man suffering from a ‘broken heart’ and over spilled love for a woman who turned away, the same can be said for dealing with bereavement of any kind. It certainly resonated with me.

Being me, I couldn’t hold my fire on reading and purchasing such a book and managed to get an additional copy of it to my lover.

Why? Because whatever we are going through, whatever journey we are taking, we often, so very often converge along our pathways – in thought and mind and deed.

This one was so big that I needed to share it with him.

Possibly there is affirmation in this writing for him, learning for me, and possibly the other way round as well to a lesser or greater degree.

I mean – sex and relationships? Is there anything more important, and to have it explained in a Zen way – ooh I am so excited.

I cannot wait for us to sit together and discuss it more – my Zen-mate. Yes, I like that.

However, I shall return to this book frequently, I expect, over the course of my next few blogs. Perhaps it will resonate with me so much that I will be perpetually quoting from it as a book that all should read. We shall see.

But this is not my purpose of writing today. That is for later. However, I suppose I wanted to justify to myself as much as anyone else why I still get the queries and thoughts jumping into my head, and how, in some ways, I need to go through this process to finally embrace the feeling.

I have questions. Why shouldn’t I? I’m an inquisitive type of person and maybe had I not been so, I would never have even considered looking at Zen in the first place, and I certainly wouldn’t have been living the life I am leading right now. But I have and I am so incredibly grateful that I have found this pathway of experience and thought and everything. Bloody everything!

But there are still the questions. Niggle, naggle, bollocks!

They are getting fewer by the minute, and hopefully, they are getting more objective, though they are clearly driven by presupposed assumptions on next steps and the journey onwards.

So the main question for the day is this. How do you explain to another person the nature of a relationship that goes way beyond the alleged closeness of coupledom? How do you explain to another about what the companionship, the sexual bonding, the sensational brilliance, the togetherness actually means, actually is, whilst at the same time explaining that there is no coupledom involved? How the hell do you do it?

Of course, one answer is that you don’t need to. Nobody needs to know about the extent of one relationship that is almost impossible to explain. But in polyamorous existences, when other potential friendships, relationships and expectations are being considered, how the hell do you tell another person about the brilliance of one relationship without giving them the wrong impression that it is somehow less significant than it is?

How do you explain about the togetherness, the completeness without them thinking, through no fault of their own, that these people are coupled?
And in not using the ‘couple’ label, how can the unenlightened, the pragmatic, the uninformed possibly understand what this relationship is all about?

Furthermore, how can they understand that in fucking other people, the relationship potentially grows even more intense and that there is nothing taken away from the primary relationship by the fact that one of those involved in this companionship is fucking them?

(NB – I’m still coming to terms with this one myself. So how on earth is anyone else going to understand this if they have not had the sort of grounding, so to speak, that I have?)

I am a human being in my own right. I always have been and always will be. I have been part of a couple, and I don’t like the swallowing sensation involved, even if, on a practical level it does not have to happen.

I do not want to be part of a couple, but I do want others to know the intensity, value and importance of this most significant relationship, and I am not just talking about others who may be involved with my lover. How do I, eventually, tell the important people in my life about this soul-mate of mine, my Zen-mate. How do I explain when all of these people, through western indoctrination, are under the impression that coupledom is the ultimate goal of relationships?

It’s not! It cannot be. We are individual human beings with rights and responsibilities to ourselves as much as to other people. In giving we receive. In receipt we are giving. The Zen way is to enjoy the giving as much, if not more than the receiving, but we cannot lose ourselves in the process.

Doesn’t coupledom actually lose a bit of yourself whereas the relationship I have with my lover, my partner, my soul mate, my friend, my companion, my teacher, my pupil, my Zen mate is something that goes well beyond the realms of this most contrived of preconditioned partnerships?

How the hell do you explain that to someone else without them understanding what it actually is?

I am not sure I know the answer, but of course, I am concerned that if people do not understand the real nature of what coupledom is and is not, how can they see that what I have with my lover is greater than their preconceived idea of what a partnership of mind, body and soul really is.

The conversation goes something like this.

I am in a relationship. I have been in a relationship for x amount of years, which is quite a long time as far as my life history goes. It is a beautiful relationship. We are companions, we are lovers, we are best friends, we are soul-mates. We share everything, we think in a similar way. We adore the same things. We respect and value our individuality and our togetherness.

But what we are not, is a couple. That is not in our language and it is not a phrase that we like to consider to reflect our relationship.

Ah well, if you are not a couple, then you are not committed, especially if you are fucking me, because if you’ve fucked me, how can you be committed to the other person. There’s a crack. That’s all. It is not so perfect as you think, matey boy.................

And so it goes on.

Perhaps I should just accept that there is nothing that could explain this relationship, that nobody could ever really understand its complexities and its brilliance. So why try?

And yet, there are two things with that.

I want people close to me to understand me, to know me, to realise just how significant this is.

And I want other potential lovers of mine or my lovely man’s to know where they are, where they stand before they get themselves involved in a relationship that they do not fully understand.

But can they ever?

Fuck coupledom.

But fuck those also who make assumptions about the status of an inexplicable relationship based on their own misunderstanding of the pinnacle of existence.