Profoundly subjective responses to peak turn-ons
reveal the rewards of the erotic adventure.
When I developed the Sexual Excitement Survey, the dynamics of arousal were my primary concern. As I analyzed The Group’s stories, however, I couldn’t help noticing a striking similarity in virtually all of them, regardless of content: peak erotic experiences are as fulfilling as they are arousing. Whereas excitement and fulfillment can be quite different from each other, in peak sex they are virtually indistinguishable. This discovery opened up an unexpected opportunity to use the SES to explore the nature of sexual satisfaction.
When Dr. Maslow wrote about peak experiences he naturally emphasized the highly personal experiences of his subjects rather than the specific details of what took place. He knew that a vast array of events and situations can be catalysts for peak experiences. He also realized that it’s not the events themselves but the individual’s inner responses that produce the joy of a peak moment. Maslow’s insight turns out to apply equally to peak eroticism. Unless we have a profoundly personal response, even the sexiest partner or situation will ultimately he little more than interesting—and probably not very memorable.
Once I realized that The Group’s stories were valuable sources of information about fulfillment as well as excitation, I noted what respondents said about the subjective experience of peak turn-on. In addition to all the juicy details, The Group spontaneously mentions these personal responses far more frequently than any others:
Sensual and orgasmic intensity
Reduced inhibitions
Validation given and received
Mutuality and resonance
Transcendence of personal boundaries
Taken together, I believe these responses are the essence of peak eroticism. They represent the hopes and needs we bring to an erotic adventure and, just as surely, the keys to our fulfillment. As I describe each of them, notice which ones are familiar to you.
The sexual experience is, at the most fundamental level, an expression of your physical self. Without your inborn capacities to receive and process sensual stimulation, to build up muscle tension as you become aroused and to release it through orgasm, eroticism as you know it could not exist. During peak sex your body and all its senses spring to life.
Your response to touch is particularly likely to become more acute. If someone were to observe the stimulation you receive during peak sex they probably wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary—a stroke here, a lick there. But from a purely subjective point of view, your receptivity goes into hyperdrive, bringing a richness to stimuli that under more normal circumstances might seem mundane.
Ironically, the flood of tactile sensations you experience during peak sex is not primarily the result of heightened physical sensitivity. Researchers who measure the physiology of arousal note that our skin sensitivity actually drops as excitement escalates. You feel so much more because you become totally absorbed in whatever is turning you on while screening out all extraneous stimuli. Although sexologists still have a lot to learn about it, this narrowing of focus is an altered state of consciousness quite similar to hypnosis. You might think of it as a “sexual trance.”1
Forty-six percent of The Group’s peak encounters and 39 percent of their favorite fantasies contain spontaneous references to the intensity of their sensations or their orgasms or both. And they don’t just say, “That felt good.” They rave about their sensations, making comments such as:
“My body came alive.”
“Every touch made me tingle.”
“I became lost in the texture of her skin.”
“The sight of his naked body was too exciting to describe.”
“I didn’t think I was capable of feeling so much.”
Women are more likely than men to make such comments (half of the women compared to 40 percent of the men). The three subgroups most likely to mention the intensity of their sensations and orgasms are lesbians (64 percent), bisexual women (63 percent), and bisexual men (60 percent).
People often mention being in tune with their “animal nature” during peak turn-ons. This connection with the instinctual, noncerebral world of the body not only brings with it a sense of strength and power, but also unrestrained feelings of joy. It’s not unusual for men and women to be surprised by their own sexual capabilities and stamina. The liberal use of superlatives frequently makes storytellers sound like athletes describing those ineffable moments when they are so in touch with their bodies that extraordinary feats become effortless. But what stands out most is the total lack of struggle and the ease of it all.
For some, especially women, the ability to experience several orgasms within a brief period of time, or throughout an extended lovemaking session, becomes a symbol of their extraordinary responsiveness. Alexandra’s encounter features multiple orgasms and an attentive, encouraging partner:
I was having a relationship with an older man. One time we were making love and he was totally focused on me. As he stroked and manipulated my clit, he also kissed my breasts and sucked my nipples. He held me tight when I came which immediately made me come again. Then he finger-fucked me with such intensity that I came again. He said, “Come on darling,” knowing full well that I had another orgasm stored in me. After I went down on him and he came in my mouth, he concentrated on my “encore” and I climaxed one last time. Whew!
Although multiple orgasms are fairly common during peak sex, they’re by no means required. Nonetheless, when it comes to sensual and orgasmic intensity, if a little is good, more is usually better.
Sometimes, though, an encounter stands out not because of its intensity, but rather because it contains a gradual discovery of simple pleasures previously hidden or actively avoided. Harold, age fifty-seven, describes the quiet drama of such a moment:
I don’t like to admit it, but I’ve never liked being touched. Partly it’s because I’m ticklish. I know this sounds strange, but sometimes my wife’s touch reminds me of when my mom would try to hug me when I was a teenager and it felt awkward and I wanted to escape. As a man I prefer to have sex mostly with my genitals. Leave the rest of me alone. I’m just not the touchy-feely type.
One morning my wife started caressing me as I was waking up. The night before we had one of our most honest conversations. I don’t know if that was it, but as she touched me I knew it was okay to relax even though I still felt like cringing at first. Gradually (she must have been shocked as hell) she touched all the areas I normally hate.
It was as if a layer of padding that had always covered my body fell away. Instead of recoiling from her or feeling ticklish, the entire surface of my skin was electrified and I liked it! I have no idea how long this lasted. I’m not even sure if I had an erection—for once it didn’t matter. I know we didn’t have intercourse. All day I wanted to enjoy my body. We worked in the yard, went for a walk and lounged in the sun, holding hands. My wife’s amazement was nothing compared to mine. For once I had a body.
For Harold to drop the protective shield he had built up, he had to overcome a lifetime of uneasiness about the meanings and intentions associated with touch. I believe his newfound enjoyment of his body is a remnant of the sensuality of his infancy or early childhood—before fear crippled his capacity for pleasure. Though we may not be aware of it, the deep satisfaction of memorable sex often springs from a similar reconnection with an earlier, uncontaminated—innocent, if you prefer—delight in our physical selves.
If you’re like most people, sex is best when you can throw yourself into it with abandon, unfettered by the vast array of restrictions, fears, worries, conflicts, and pressures that sometimes conspire to restrain you. We’re very much a part of ancient cultural-religious traditions in which the body is associated with our primitive animalism. We’re taught, not necessarily with words, that it must be tamed using the “higher” aims of the mind and spirit. Long before you reached adulthood, chances are you had unconsciously incorporated at least some of this anti-body bias into your personality. Even if you now embrace the idea that your desires for physical pleasure are natural and good, you may still feel conflicted about it.
Without fully realizing it you may also have learned to restrict the free flow of erotic energy through a process Wilhelm Reich called “muscular armoring.”2 If the postural and muscular patterns of your caretakers nonverbally communicated discomfort with physical pleasure, you probably imitated what you observed. To the extent that you still lock yourself into frozen postures, constrict your breathing, and curtail your range of motion, you narrow your capacity for sensual enjoyment and thus continue to obey the dictates of your training.
In addition to whatever limits you place on your body, you’ve also seen how emotional concerns, conflicts, and fears as varied as fingerprints are woven into your erotic patterns. Any deeply held doubts you may have about your desirability, attractiveness, sexual adequacy, or the normalcy of your preferences are particularly potent and persistent inhibitors. Your CET tries valiantly to transform these difficulties into aphrodisiacs but isn’t always successful.
Miraculously, during peak experiences the body tends to release its rigid postures as all emotional concerns spontaneously evaporate. Somehow you’re able to revel in the joy of the moment and celebrate your childlike freedom. Here’s how Maslow describes these extraordinary states:
…a complete, though momentary, loss of fear, anxiety, inhibition, defense and control, a giving up of renunciation, delay and restraint. The fear of disintegration and dissolution, the fear of being overwhelmed by the “instincts,” the fear of death and insanity, the fear of giving in to unbridled pleasure and emotion, all tend to disappear or go into abeyance for the time being.3
One-third of The Group’s peak encounters and a fifth of their fantasies spontaneously include references to themselves or their partners or both letting go of inhibitions, becoming playfully experimental, or highly expressive. I’m convinced that at least some reduction in those things that normally hold us back is a prerequisite for peak sex.
It’s not unusual for people to seek chemical assistance in their struggle with inhibitions. Among The Group, 46 percent reported having at least one drink before peak encounters, 14 percent used marijuana, 4 percent used cocaine or other stimulants, and a handful used psychedelics or nitrite inhalants (“poppers”). Any of these drugs can help overcome inhibitions and increase our focus on building sensations. The risk, of course, is that we may become dependent on one or more drugs to free us. In the worst cases it’s difficult or impossible for a person to experience high arousal when sober—obviously a sign of serious trouble.4
Relatively few members of The Group who use alcohol or other drugs before or during their peak turn-ons actually mention them in their stories. Instead they reveal their drug use by answering questions about it in the SES. Those who do allude to drugs in their stories usually mention drinking as part of the social context for an encounter or as a calculated strategy for overcoming their own inhibitions or those of a reticent partner. The smaller number who mention smoking marijuana in their stories typically comment on its ability to intensify sensations.
The relatively few instances in which drugs play a central role in a peak turn-on invariably involve one of the hallucinogenic substances such as LSD (“acid”), psychoactive mushrooms, MDMA (“ecstasy”), or hashish (a highly concentrated form of marijuana). These powerful drugs so radically alter the perceptions and emotions of whoever is under their influence, they’re often seen as coparticipants in the experience. Note how the drug ecstasy is pivotal in Jennifer’s story of love, sensuality, and obliterated inhibitions:
My lover and I were vacationing on a beach in Mexico. I wanted him to be in love with me as I was with him, but he was holding back. One afternoon we took ecstasy together. The drug had an almost magical effect, helping us to open our hearts and express feelings that were locked inside. It was overwhelming to learn that he was madly in love with me but also terribly afraid of being hurt again (his ex-wife had dumped him for a younger man).
Every touch was a revelation, as if we were discovering each other for the first time. Our senses were drinking in the wind, the sand between our toes, the rhythm of the surf and the penetrating warmth of the sun. We were even more overcome by emotions as we kissed and talked for hours.
Back at the hotel my excitement continued to be mostly emotional. He let himself become vulnerable to me. I never realized this man felt so much inside. His openness was a gift that made me want to make love to him without reservation. It was beyond comprehension. I was amazed by how we were both freed of all inhibitions. Verbally and physically he expressed adoration of my body and soul.
He took me strongly in a virile, manly way and I also ravaged him. We naturally enjoyed acts we would have avoided before. We knew we could be nasty and still be loved. I knew he cherished me as much as I did him. More than once I cried at the beauty of the moment—the curve of his earlobe, the softness of my skin against his lips. We were all heart, all soul, and all body.
Clearly the drug was a catalyst for a remarkable degree of sensual and emotional freedom and intimacy. Naturally, you might wonder if all this ecstatic love was merely chemically induced. Jennifer had a similar concern:
When I awoke the next morning I immediately wondered if Eric would be cautious again. Did he mean what he said on ecstasy? Even though we were completely down from the drug, Eric kissed me, held me, and softly told me how much he loved me (he hardly ever said these things before). We live together now and have discussed this experience often. We both agree that the drug removed our inhibitions so we could be completely truthful. The intensity was much greater than normal but the feelings were real—because we still feel them.
Had Jennifer and Eric needed to take ecstasy on a regular basis to sustain their intimacy, the quality of their relationship would eventually have deteriorated until there was nothing left but an artificial high. Luckily, their drug experience was simply a tool that worked for them.
Of course, inhibitions release their grip in many other circumstances. As you may recall from Chapter 1, surprises are a common memorability factor. One marvelous aspect of a sexual surprise is that it obliterates our inhibitions and catches us with our defenses down. Sean, a gay man in his early twenties, demonstrates this process with an ironic twist:
I had an incredible experience after I broke up with my lover of three years. Ours had been the first relationship for us both so it was quite tumultuous. Even though we were no longer an “item” we still saw each other around town. One time we stopped to chat, went out for coffee, and, to my total amazement, eventually ended up in bed—the first time in over a year. Our sex life had never been easy, but this time I was so comfortable with Bill I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t worry about what he thought of me, or how I looked, or whether he liked what I was doing, or when we were going to come, or anything! None of that mattered at all.
After sex we lay in bed watching the sunset. At one point I was almost shocked to realize his hand had been resting on my dick and mine on his for a long time. I don’t remember ever being so exposed yet so relaxed. We commented how funny it was that we would finally be comfortable with each other now that our relationship was over. It was sad but also very positive. I not only let go of my sexual inhibitions that day, I also gave up most of my resentments. It certainly made our breakup a lot less painful. We’re still close friends.
Sean’s unexpected freedom with Bill illustrates the paradoxical nature of inhibitions. Even though it’s easy to assume that we’d all be much better off without them, sexual inhibitions often play a positive role in memorable sex by providing the reticence and restraint out of which freedom can spring. When inhibitions loosen their grip they release a burst of energy and vitality. Again and again The Group’s stories illustrate this dynamic interaction of inhibition and excitation.
Whenever I discuss the rewards of peak eroticism with my clients, sooner or later it usually comes down to this: satisfying sex leaves the participants feeling affirmed, highly desirable, and worth-while—deeply validated. Focus your attention on the warm glow of fulfillment following a peak turn-on and you’ll probably notice a good feeling about yourself and an unmistakable appreciation of your partner. If you and your partner also care for each other, the affirmation will mean even more.
In psychotherapy it often takes some gentle coaxing before clients shift their attention away from the details of a sexual experience and focus instead on feelings of increased self-worth or admiration for their partners. So I wasn’t sure what, if anything, The Group might say about giving and receiving validation in their stories. As it turns out, without any prompting they regularly pepper their tales with spontaneous praise for their partners and themselves. Twenty-nine percent of their peak encounters contain clear statements of approval such as:
“She was the sexiest women I’ve ever been with.”
“A masterful lover!”
“I was really hot that night—and not afraid to show it.”
“He made me feel beautiful.”
“She was a precious jewel to me.”
Women are more likely to make affirmative statements (35 percent) than men (23 percent). Lesbians and gay men make these sorts of comments about themselves or their partners with exactly the same frequency as they mention sensual or orgasmic intensity (64 percent of the lesbians and 35 percent of the gay men), indicating that for them validation is an exceedingly important dimension of fulfilling sex.
The Group is even more likely to give and receive affirmation in their favorite fantasies (42 percent), with men more likely to do so (46 percent) than the women (37 percent). In fact, giving or receiving validation is the single most frequent subjective response to fantasy among The Group as a whole and all the male subgroups, including straight men (43 percent) and gay men (67 percent). I don’t know why, but lesbians include affirmative statements in their fantasies only about half as often as they do in their stories of actual encounters.
Remember, I didn’t specifically ask The Group how they felt about themselves or their partners. These are completely spontaneous expressions. I’m convinced that truly satisfying encounters and fantasies virtually always bolster the worth of the participants. The high degree of self-disclosure in positive sex—which reveals your nakedness in more ways than one—increases the significance of whatever responses you give or receive.
Connie, age twenty-nine, offers a powerful example of the role of affirmation in a loving encounter that also marks the transition to a deeper level of caring:
After attending a lecture, Mary returned to my apartment for tea and talk. The feeling was cozy and intimate. I asked him to sleep over but said I didn’t want to have sex. At first he said he’d leave because it would be too frustrating to sleep with me and not have me but then he changed his mind and stayed.
Up to this point our relationship had been mostly sexual with a little personal conversation. The lecture, discussion, and willingness to sleep together nonsexually was a new dynamic. In retrospect, I think part of me was testing to see if he wanted me for more than sex, though I wasn’t aware of this at the time.
Once in bed we kissed good night and a warm feel flowed through me like heated olive oil. I felt a new level of respect, appreciation, and being cared for. He immediately sensed my openness and his sensitivity turned me on all the more. We caressed each other slow and easy. Of course, I ended up taking him inside me and having a furious orgasm. He was also very moved by the experience. Lying there quietly with him in the wet heat afterward was sweet, so sweet.
Just as we might expect, Connie’s sense of being accepted and affirmed by Mary is connected to the developing intimacy between them. However, analysis of The Group’s peak turn-ons reveals that even casual encounters or fantasies can be profoundly validating. Raoul, an interior designer in his early thirties, describes the affirmative impact of a one-time encounter:
Some of my friends tease me because I don’t like one-night stands—in fact, I hate them! Maybe that’s one reason why I have trouble meeting women (besides the fact that I’m not really over my last relationship). One evening after working late on a project that wasn’t going well, I went out for a drink. I was in one of those moods when I question my abilities and generally rip myself apart. I finished a drink and was about to leave when the bartender brought me another, pointing out an attractive woman across the bar who had bought it for me. I went over to talk with her even though I was eager to get home.
Not only was she beautiful with a radiant smile, she was also smart and funny—and married. She was in town for a conference and this was her last night. We really hit it off so she invited me to her hotel. I was naive enough to think we would just continue talking. She made me feel so good about myself, telling me I was handsome and that I must be a great designer because I dress with such style. In a way these sounded like empty lines, but she seemed sincere and I needed to hear it.
I spent the night with her and have never felt so good about casual sex. Even though we hardly knew each other it was very intimate. I can’t remember ever being a better lover. In the morning when I took her to the airport she softly said, “I’ll always remember you, my darling,” with such finality and love that I cried on the way to my office. It wasn’t so much that I wouldn’t see her again but that she somehow made me feel worth something. By midafternoon I had worked out my problem at work. Maybe this was pure coincidence but I don’t think so.
To comprehend the importance of validation in peak eroticism, keep in mind the role of self-doubt in the sexual scenarios that most excite us. One function of our CETs is to help us demonstrate our worth and desirability and counteract lingering negative beliefs about ourselves. Part of the reason peak sex is so deeply satisfying is that it gives a potent boost to our self-esteem, as it clearly did for Raoul. You’ve no doubt seen popular caricatures in which a post-orgasmic lover inquires, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” We may be too sophisticated to make such a blatant request for approval, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want it.
Modern books about sexual problems and enhancement warn of the dangers of assuming that your partner knows how, where, and when you like to be touched. Sex therapists, usually an unflappahle bunch, cringe when they hear their clients express two commonly held beliefs: “If you loved me you would know what to do” and “If I have to ask for it I don’t want it.” Such beliefs are setups for disappointment and frustration. Nevertheless, chances are you’ve had such thoughts yourself despite knowing, at least intellectually, that they’re unrealistic.
An important reason for the persistence of such thinking is the fact that you’ve probably had encounters—and certainly fantasies—in which your partner knows, as if by magic, exactly what pleases you. More often than not, peak encounters have at least some of this quality of perfectly meshing timing, touch, and rhythm. About a quarter of The Group’s encounters and a fifth of their favorite fantasies specifically mention this sense of being highly in tune with their partners—I call it mutuality and resonance. These are the sorts of comments they make:
“We were on the same wavelength.”
“Everything I wanted she wanted too.”
“He read my body like a book.”
“It was as if my every secret desire was obvious.”
“Our movements were perfectly synchronized.”
“I played him like a violin and he loved it.”
Women are significantly more likely than men to mention mutuality when describing their peak encounters (33 percent of women compared to 19 percent of men). Women are also more inclined to make mutuality a component of their fantasies (24 percent of women versus 17 percent of men). Lesbians are the most likely of all to refer to resonating with their partners, mentioning it in 45 percent of their encounters and in half of their fantasies.
Women are taught, directly or indirectly, that the right man will know more about her sexuality than she does. Outside the sexual arena, girls and young women learn to place a high value on being sensitive and responding to the needs of others. Both factors contribute to women’s propensity to look for reciprocation with a perfectly matched partner.
Alice, now age forty-nine, recalls an experience from eight years earlier in which synchronized movements produced an exquisite nonverbal resonance:
This was the second time my lover and I had sex. I was living and working in Paris. He was an Iraqi studying for an advanced degree. We met at a dance and I was impressed by his natural grace and rhythm—a superb athlete. On this occasion we danced to Greek folk music at home. As our movements became more sensuous our bodies swayed in fluid unity. We continued dancing, gradually removing each other’s clothes until we were stark naked. His penis was between my legs and I thrilled to its hardness and warmth.
When the music ended we fell to the floor. He came into me slowly and with the same perfect rhythm. I arched up so he could lick my nipples. We continued to move in harmony until we both climaxed. We could hardly be more different in terms of culture and background, but we were effortlessly connected with each other. What he wanted was what I wanted was what he wanted.
Among The Group’s tales of peak sex there are a number in which music and dance are avenues to heightened mutuality. Others mention extended holding, kissing, and caressing—often while breathing in unison—as practical methods for establishing resonance.
Although men don’t mention it as frequently as women, they unquestionably appreciate the same feeling. Both men and women yearn for opportunities to bridge the chasm that separates all of us into distinct, ultimately lonely, individuals. In peak eroticism lovers find a common playground in which to express their complementary desires. If only for a moment, the fundamental loneliness of being human is relieved.5
In peak sex you may become so self-expressive, so clear about who you are and what you want, that your sense of self actually expands. You may move beyond the confines of habit and identity and enter an altered state of consciousness known as transcendence.
In their stories of peak sex, over 10 percent of The Group uses the poetic language suggestive of transcendence:
“I felt a part of all that is.”
“The whole universe became erotic.”
“It was the primal dance of life.”
“Our love was unique yet infinite.”
Because it’s so difficult to describe a transcendent experience there are undoubtedly others who feel it but don’t know how to translate their experiences into words. Transcendence connects us with the great mysteries of life. Our natural response to genuine mystery is usually to remain silent. When we try to explain what has touched us we run the risk of distancing ourselves from the experience because our descriptions are inadequate to convey its fullness.
Analysis of stories with transcendent aspects reveals several recurring themes:
Those who have transcendent experiences during peak sex usually don’t consciously seek them out. Instead these experiences unfold naturally from a level of participation so all-encompassing and free that the self is unexpectedly released from its normal constraints. Carla’s story captures the feeling:
My boyfriend and I had been driving around all day, exploring new and exciting places. It began to rain and soon thunder and lightning followed. We both had the same idea: let’s get a bottle of champagne and drive up to Twin Peaks to watch the city being drenched by this incredible storm.
We cheered when we found no one else there. As we sipped our champagne and talked there was an uncanny chemistry between us. Sometimes we would talk, sometimes kiss, sometimes be silent, holding hands, listening to the rain as it beat upon the windshield, watching and feeling it seep through the slightly opened windows. Our breath was taken away when bolts of lightning lit up the sky and thunder rumbled.
Soon we were embracing. Our kisses matched the rhythms of the storm. When we made love it seemed so much more beautiful than any time before. Maybe it was the awesome power of the storm combined with the fact that we could be caught at any moment? All I can say is that we both felt a high afterward (and it wasn’t the champagne because we had very little). The feeling was more mystical, meditative. I walked a bit lighter for several days.
Theirs is a marvelous synchronicity of time and place, a union of love and lust joined with the majestic forces of nature. During transcendent experiences, with or without an overtly erotic component, the perception of oneself as a part of the natural world is often the catalyst that draws the participants into the larger universe.
Surely the spirit of adventure that Carla and her boyfriend shared throughout the day also primed them for the ecstasies to follow. This is definitely not a safe encounter. Whereas most of us would retreat indoors at the first sign of a thunderstorm, these two seek out a mountaintop, eager to be closer to and revel in the danger and drama that moves them so deeply. In peak eroticism, as in all of life, lucky moments often happen to those willing to go out on a limb.
Transcendent moments sometimes lead to growth because they shake up and enlarge our perceptions so that apparent contradictions can be tolerated and integrated. Like Carl Jung before him, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi has pointed out that in growing we simultaneously become both more separate and more interconnected:
Following a flow [peak] experience, the organization of the self is more complex than it had been before. It is by becoming increasingly complex that the self might be said to grow. Complexity is the result of two broad psychological processes: differentiation and integration. Differentiation implies a movement toward uniqueness, toward separating oneself from others. Integration refers to its opposite: a union with other people, ideas and entities beyond the self. A complex self is one that succeeds in combining these opposite tendencies.7
When we surrender to a transcendent experience, we glimpse our universal aspects, moving beyond the limitations of the ego and its illusions of separateness. Yet the great paradox of transcendence is that while self-consciousness totally disappears, we know more clearly than at any other time exactly who we are.
Transcendence and spirituality are closely related. Those who have some familiarity with spiritual practices—meditation, for instance—or who have had mystical or religious experiences may be more likely to recognize moments of transcendence in their erotic lives.
Unfortunately, for our ability to recognize the spiritual aspects of eroticism, in most of the world’s great religions, transcendence is of the spirit, whereas the joys of the body occupy a lower realm. Therefore, if you have been influenced by the teachings of virtually any organized religion, you probably believe, subconsciously at least, that sexual ecstasy and spiritual awareness are incompatible.
Even though transcendent eroticism usually happens quite by accident—an unexpected gift—certain techniques can help anyone actively explore the mystical dimensions of the erotic.8 One of the best-known approaches is Tantra. Both a vision and set of practices, Tantra is said to have developed thousands of years before Christianity as an offshoot of Hinduism in India. Initially, it was a reaction to the belief that the denial of sexuality was necessary for enlightenment (sound familiar?). Tantra recognizes eros as a vital life force. It seeks to mobilize and shape—rather than to suppress—erotic energies as a pathway to the divine.
Although many Westerners find their ideas too strange to be of interest, Tantric practitioners believe that ecstasy is most likely to occur when relaxation and high states of excitement are combined. Rather than having tension build until it culminates in orgasmic release, Tantra calls for relaxing into arousal. It advocates recirculating erotic energy for extended periods, which sometimes results in orgasms that are long-lasting and not particularly genitally focused.
If we weren’t so conflicted about eroticism I have no doubt that many of us would be much more cognizant of its transcendent and spiritual aspects. Peak erotic experiences are perfectly suited to transcendence because they engage us totally, enlarge our sense of self by connecting us with another or with normally hidden dimensions of ourselves or both, and expand our perceptions and consciousness. What a pity so few of us are encouraged to discover all of eros’s gifts.
No two people respond exactly the same way even to very similar peak experiences. Your background and individual propensities cause you to focus on certain responses while ignoring or downplaying others. This is the order in which The Group mentions their subjective responses, starting with the most frequent:
Sensual and orgasmic intensity
Reduced inhibitions
Validation given and received
Mutuality and resonance
Transcendence of personal boundaries
You may have felt some or all of these responses, or different ones not on this list. To learn more about what erotic fulfillment consists of for you, make your own list of responses, starting with the ones you recall most frequently and then adding those you recall experiencing less often. The responses toward the top of your list obviously play a crucial role in helping you feel fulfilled.
The next time you’re engaged in an enjoyable encounter or fantasy, make a point of observing and savoring those subjective responses that stand out. You may make these observations during the experience or afterward. Either way, there’s no reason for this process to make you self-conscious because you’re not judging or evaluating—just observing. When you focus on your favorite responses you can experience more fully the things you already like.
However, if you make a point of noticing the responses with which you are less familiar, you can open up the possibility of a qualitative shift in your experience. It’s your unfamiliar responses that may offer the greatest opportunities for developing your erotic potential.
As an experiment, pick one or two responses at the bottom of your list. Move into a comfortable position, close your eyes, and recall one of your favorite encounters or fantasies. Imagine how your experience might have differed had you been more aware of these responses. Is it possible you could have enjoyed yourself even more had you been attuned to them? By repeating this simple exercise with a variety of different memories you can gradually train yourself to notice a wider range of responses, and in the process bring a new richness to your eroticism. But don’t fall into the trap of trying to experience all responses equally; that would be unrealistic and pointless. After all, what could be more uniquely individualistic than the shape and texture of eros fulfilled?
I hope this book has helped you make valuable discoveries about how the erotic mind creates and intensifies desire and arousal. I also hope you have cultivated the paradoxical perspective—a different way to explore your eroticism. It may not be the easiest way, yet I trust your willingness to tolerate contradictions and ambiguities has proven fruitful.
As you’ve explored the profoundest subjective rewards of the erotic adventure you’ve probably come face to face with one of the most fundamental of all erotic paradoxes: even though passion and fulfillment have a close, reciprocal relationship, there is an unavoidable tension between them. While the idea of perpetual fulfillment holds an undeniable appeal, the truth is that never-ending fulfillment, if there ever were such a thing, would ultimately lead to boredom—the polar opposite of passion.
Of course, passion seeks fulfillment as its greatest reward. In so many ways fulfillment enhances passion because it teaches us an enormous amount about the secrets of arousal. It is equally true, however, that fulfillment inevitably subdues passion because it quenches need, and thus desire. And without desire there is no reason for passion.
You might think of the passion-fulfillment paradox as part of the larger human drama in which satisfactions of all kinds sow the seeds of discontent. But for those who accept the ways of the erotic mind, passion and fulfillment are accurately seen as two essential parts of a whole. When you know what you want and are lucky enough to find it, you feel not only uplifted and enlivened, but also satiated—not a bad feeling at all. Yet it’s just a matter of time until new desires begin to stir. You’re dancing to the age-old rhythms of eros.