The Sexual and The Divine

There is no puritanical under or overtones in our religion. But it certainly exists in the patriarchy, and in orthodoxy both in service of men, to the detriment of women. I’m blessed that I have no silly fundies around me to misrepresent the beauty of this deen. Right to the point – when Muslim couples around me dislike each other strongly, they’re still always having sex. A lot of it, no matter their age and no matter how long they’ve been together.

I recently had a lovely discussion about sensuality; mine, and the necessity of it and sexuality in my life. They rule many aspects of my life, touching on and moving everything. It’s in how I touch your knee when speaking, or rest my feet on your lap. How I move my hands through your hair, and where you place your hands when my body is against yours. Sometimes, it’s nothing to do with touch, and everything to do with shared energy. Always, it’s in the intensity of our eye contact.

It’s also what I eat, what I listen to, what I surround myself with at home, and what scents I light up when I close my front door. It can be as simple as not turning on any lights, but preferring candles instead. I believe in the tantric spiritual, that sex should be an experience of the divine.

It’s why the Sufi poets wrote about the ecstasy of reunification with God, the closest to which can be experienced between lovers.

Being extremely sensory and tactile, everything around me reflects this. How I engage people reflects this. It’s often misconstrued as me flirting with everyone – male and female – but that’s not true. When a man has my attention, he can tell the difference unless he’s an absolute dummy. Which doesn’t track with anyone I’ve ever been attracted to, so never a possibility.

Sensuality has little to do with another person and everything to do with the individual living it. It doesn’t change and it doesn’t diminish, and it is never circumstantial.

Sex is, according to my Prophet (sAws), a charity between lovers. It can be an apology, a question, a bridge. Often, it is a conversation. It resolves conflict (go to bed angry, y’all!), and it brings peace. It heals and lifts our immunity systems. It is playful and fun when with the right partner. Most crucial, however, is that it is a deepening of care between the lovers. It’s a necessity and a right which spouses have over one another. I’ve mentioned before that in Islam, if you don’t have sexual intercourse with your partner for three months, you’re considered divorced.

Sex and both its demand and release are rights which our body has over us, like the right for nourishment; naturally, the key is to be its master, rather than its slave. Gluttony is not in the books.

Consider the sacral chakra which links our sexual pleasure to our sensuality, to our creativity. More expansively, it is also linked to self-expression, emotions and emotional intelligence, intimacy, relationships, and social fulfilment.

None of this is a coincidence for anyone who is open to synchronicities and energy flow between ourselves and those around us. I am never more creative than when I am in a sexually charged engagement with a man. My creativity is rooted in the same meta/physical space as my sexuality. If I’m not writing or being creative, it means that I’m not interested in anyone; everything becomes dormant.

Sex is the divine.

; the very word orgasm means died and gone to heaven. It is an emotional and spiritual connection deepened intentionally through the physical. In tantric, the purpose isn’t to come, though yes – orgasm away – but it is to deepen a bond, and to render even more sacred the energy which draws us to one particular person over another; it’s to watch one another, instead of the television. To eat while in bed, while catching up. To lay together in the same hammock. To take a bath together instead of apart. To sit next to you while you’re cooking. To play with my hair while I’m reading next to you. It’s to engage every sensory ability in service of connection.

It’s also a giant fu(k you to the capitalist greed that has overtaken and defined sex – “getting laid”, “getting some”, “getting off.” Placing at the center not connection, but rather individual selfish getting. No wonder so many couples dislike one another, when sex is transactional.

No wonder so many people take advantage of one another. No wonder there is so much regret and self-loathing after sex for so many.

And. No wonder so many need to be drunk to do anything at all, if they can even get it up, frankly.

The pivot in what I would consider the right direction has to be joint, with the intention of both to service the other. In that service is care for ourselves and it really and truly is this simple.

I am often asked how long my longest relationship has been because I maybe believe too much in the romantic, I maybe believe too much that this kind of deep, meaningful, and growing intimacy is possible. I will keep repeating it – I believe in it. I will have it. And nothing less.

If I’m agitated by the question, I’ll respond with a “It’s none of your business”, but if I’m being honest, my answer is a question: Why would you assume that someone in a long-term toxic, or miserable, or unfulfilling relationship would know more than me? Why would you assume that anyone who has built and fortified unhealthy patterns would know more than me, just because of a time lapse?

When time itself isn’t even real, but rather a construct?

This too is a testament to the upside down nature of this world. This sh!tty assumption that just because you have years under your belt, you somehow know better? It’s a complete fallacy and I would bet that most long-term couples in my age group have awful communication habits they can’t get out of. Because sex isn’t a part of their equation in this part of the world, rooted in Christianity.

I’m always going to bet on myself. I am like a demented researcher on the subject of sexuality and the divine; I have books and books, and articles bookmarked. To whomever I choose to commit long term, I may break them. And they will absolutely fu(king welcome it.

The fact that I’ve not had too many long-term relationships means I know when to tap the fu(k out. It means I won’t settle for harm. It means I won’t accept anything less than I’m worth and less than I bring into a man’s life.

If that’s not the very definition of healthy boundaries and love for both myself and every man I engage, I don’t know what the fu(k is.

Now go get busy. It’s in service of every single part of you physical and metaphysical. Trust that our bodies were built for this, and it is a part of our healthiest selves. And as you do, remember Atwood who wrote: Love is choosing, the snake said. The kingdom of God is within you, because you ate it.


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