F&M

Note: Last week, I did a post called “Bleach vs. Battery Acid” where I posed a question. The responses I received inspired me to write this piece. Moucho thanx to Brenda, Asven, M, Margaret, and Erika for their feedback. Now if I can just get some dudes to open up like the ladies have...

        Redefining masculinity isn’t going to be easy. Like any script that gets re-written, there’s going to be resistance from the old guard. Those who hold the original dear, even if it’s outdated and obviously needs some work, will fight to keep it the way it used to be. Change of any sort is difficult. Try moving the wastebasket in your kitchen to a new location. Then notice how long you keep going to where it used to be when you want to throw something away. And that’s just your garbage container. Never mind revamping a cultural archetype.
        The parameters of manhood are certainly vast enough to encompass countless behaviors, preferences, attitudes, thoughts, and feelings, depending on the context. The limitations we place serve as guidelines, not rigid boundaries.
        My own experience is that the more I feel, the more masculine I am. Not because feelings are masculine or feminine, but because the more I feel, the more connected I am to my whole self. And my whole self is the most masculine I can be. And the most feminine.
        If I’m concerned about not doing something that is truly me because I’m afraid that it will emasculate me in the eyes of society, then I’m not being true to myself. And not being true to myself is far more emasculating than paying attention to what other people think. Betraying my true self because I’m afraid of how I’ll be perceived is truly castrating. More so than even physically hacking off my family jewels.
        Accepting all of myself is about the most powerful thing I can do. And if I feel powerful, then I encompass all of masculinity. And all of femininity. The feminine power is different than the masculine power, but it’s still a force. I need both to be a whole person. I want both.
        I’m just as comfortable getting together with a bunch of women and talking about how I feel as I am hooking up with a bunch of buddies to watch a nice long day of smash mouth football or UFC fights. I just as readily relish spilling my own blood through intense physical activity, as I do comforting a friend who needs me. Does that make me masculine or feminine? Neither. And both. It makes me a more whole person.
        To take that even further, I’d be just as cool talking with a bunch of dudes about how I felt as I would be watching two guys bash their brains in with a group of girls. I’ve just come across less people who could populate these later scenarios.
        I’m not saying that if you don’t feel it, or don't like it, that you should. I’m saying that whatever your true music is, if it's really you, then let it out. Being yourself fully at any moment is the zenith of both masculine and feminine energies. They work together to create a fully actualized person. To hell with what others think. It’s you. All of you. At that moment.
        Let’s take something we can all relate to. Sex. I don’t mean to alienate any gay or lesbian readers, but, for the rest of this post, I have to place sex in the context of male/female, because that’s all I’ve ever known (except in the cases of male/female/female, which I won’t get into).
        In the bedroom, the precious gems that are man and woman create the complex, multi-faceted reflections of masculinity and femininity. These dazzling reflections shimmer and sparkle and dance together in a rapturous, harmonic splendor. It is because these reflections are fluid and somewhat ethereal, not rigid, that they create magic. Just like on any other stage, the blending and melding and convergence of these energies creates the light show. The fireworks. The lift off.
        When sex is really happening, we’re able to be both masculine and feminine, each moment. We’re dancing, between them and with them, the whole time, moment to moment. Yin and Yang, each of us, not getting hung up on which is which or who is who or what is what. I’m embracing all of my masculinity and all of my femininity at once, and at the same time, I’m embracing all of hers, while she does the same for herself and for me. It sounds complicated, but it’s not. It’s totally natural and beautiful and free.
        And that can happen even if I’m super identified with my masculinity. I’ll call that being macho. There’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, it’s just what the doctor ordered. It’s fun, natural, and a real turn on for lots of us, both male and female.
        And just so nobody misinterprets what I’m about to say next, I’ll add this disclaimer: At all times, I am referring to two mutually consenting adults.
        Let’s say I’m feeling really macho, and I decide I want sex. Right now. So I grab her and start kissing her passionately, telling her that I’m going to rip her clothes off and take her, right then and there. Whether she feels like “resisting”, or just surrenders to my advances, it’s sauce for the goose. Whatever she’s into at the moment, we’ll roll with (or “role” with, if you catch my drift).
        Even though I’m being hyper masculine, I’m paying attention to what she wants, to what drives her crazy, to what she’s into at the moment. In other words, I’m nurturing her while I’m taking charge. And she’s doing the same. She’s nurturing me while she’s taking control of her own sexuality.
        In my hyper masculine state, I’m still embracing my feminine energy. The masculine may be more apparent and more easily identified, but that’s only from a certain perspective, say that of an outside observer (don’t we wish...sometimes). Between the two of us, she’s aware that even though I’m throwing her down, I’m right there for her. She’s safe. She’s cared for. Even though it may superficially seem to both of us that I don’t care what she wants. That this about what I want. And that can be a huge turn on for both of us. But on another level, we both know that this is all about the two of us. This is about the “we”. Even if it’s never said or acted on. It’s understood.
        It’s because of that understanding that we’re able to go to these extremely polarized places. On the surface, it’s one thing. But deep down, it’s something else entirely. When all that’s happening at the same time, you’ve got body-shaking, vision-distorting, mind-numbing, scream-inducing, cataclysmically explosive sex. Yowza.
        The masculine and the feminine. Both alive and well, on some level, within each of us, every moment.
        Now excuse me while I go take a cold shower.

©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and a master bedroom full of Wrongs) Reserved.

Musex

Today is the second anniversary of my dad's death. Although I've written much about him, I decided that today's post would be a celebration of love and music. If he were still alive, my dad would be horrified to see me post something so graphic, sexual, and revealing as this. And he would have told me so. But secretly, he would would have smiled and said "Jesus Christ, John" (my dad called me John, not Clint. And he loved taking the lord's name in vain). Dad was a huge fan of music. And of love.

      Don’t try this at home. Actually, absolutely try this at home.
      One night, she creates a play list of songs. The next night, he does. For the next two evenings, this will be the music you play while you’re having sex. Here’s the twist: As you make love to all these various pieces of music, consciously notice how the music impacts you and your experience.
       The difference here is that you’re paying attention to what song is playing. It’s not just background music. You’re aware of what the song is, what it brings up, and how it makes you feel. It’s not distracting you. It’s guiding you. It’s shaping the event, enhancing it, right along with the two of you. Specific music becomes another active element, like scent, that co-creates the experience.
       Give the atmosphere a chance to develop. Choose songs that evokes similar emotions, setting a particular overall mood. To that end, you wouldn’t mix “Vicarious” by Tool with “Wild Horses” by The Stones. Unless you want some crazy, psychotically charged sex. Which is perfectly cool.
        Think about choosing the song “Love Gun” by Kiss. It’s a raunchy, sexist, absurdly macho, testosterone dripping, aggressive piece of music. Chances are, that’s what the sex will be like. Be aware of what the song is bringing up in you while it’s happening. Now put on “Something In The Way She Moves” by James Taylor. Soft, beautiful, tender, loving. An absolute musical temple for the woman.
        No matter what you choose, become actively aware of what the music is saying to you, doing to you, and evoking in you. Call it conspicuously conscious sex. If you like to talk while you’re making love, jackpot. Tell your lover what you’re experiencing as each song brings up different nuances and sensations and feelings. While keeping the motor running, of course.
        Sometimes, I've taken it a step further. I sing to my lover while we’re having sex. It’s more of a whisper type of singing, but it’s still melodic, and I get all the words right. More importantly, I really get into it. More more importantly, she really gets into it. Now, I don’t have a trained voice, but it doesn’t matter. Anybody can sing in this situation and sound just dandy. And when a woman sings to me, forget it. I died and went to heaven. And that’s before my orgasm. The absolute apex is to sing to your lover while you’re looking into each other’s eyes. One word for that: Magic.
        Singing to someone while beholding their glassy gaze, however, does takes some chutzpah. Remember the last time you played DJ at a party and nobody liked your choice of music? Musical rejection can hurt. You’re out on a limb a bit with this one. But it is so worth it.
        No matter what music you choose, make sure there’s nothing but love behind it. It can be a tender, soft, gentle kind of love. It can be a madly passionate, lustful kind of love. It can be a controlling kind of love. As in “Honey, where are the handcuffs?”. That’s fine. Actually that’s more than fine. That’s fantastic. Anyway, maybe it’ll help you work through something. With her. With him. Maybe without even talking about it. Most guys like that last part.
        Music can be the third in a beautiful menage a trois. And unlike the real thing, there’s never any radioactive emotional fallout. I’ve sung entire CD’s to woman just during foreplay. Then again, I have a tremendous capacity for remembering lyrics. And for foreplay.

© 2008 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and oh so many Wrongs) Reserved.