Friday, August 19, 2005The sex act of the soulWhen it comes to conversation, I am a total slut.I'm not talking about talking. I'm talking about conversing. I'm talking about that exchange of ideas that is fluid, dynamic, commingled, rich, complex and deeply satisfying. I'm talking about that moment when two people get together and time stops. When you look at your watch and see that it's so deep into the night that it's nearly the next morning. When you realize that you are in trouble, again, at work for taking that two and a half hour lunch. When you vowed that THIS time it wouldn't be that way. THIS time you could keep it under control. Sex in its best form is a give and take between two people. Each person has a sense that what is being brought to the table is very much appreciated by the other. There is mutual play, challenges being thrown out and met. Each person takes the previous move and riffs on it, confirming that it was felt, appreciated, and then bested. Each party artfully takes the experience to the next level, the goal being mutual pleasure, deeper understanding, absolute joy. The delight in the other person is unbounded. And afterwards, there is a sense of great satisfaction and peace, down to the very core. And that's so different from a great conversation ... how? The only difference that I can tell is in what part of the body is getting the friction. What's even better is that after a good conversation you can walk away without guilt or remorse of any sort. You never have to get tested for conversationally transmitted diseases. I had a conversation the other night that lasted until 3:30 a.m. It was one of those conversations where everything hooked together seamlessly, the words flowed without stopping, the connection was intricate and profound. I drove home and then woke up at 6:30, went to martial arts and went through the entire day floating on a haze of good feeling and satiety. It was just as if I'd been extremely well taken care of in other ways. The lack of sleep, the few glasses of wine, none of that impeded the energy and buoyancy I was feeling. It was just like a perfect moment with a bona fide lover, without the worries about what was going to happen next. This is not a new thought. Thomas Moore inspired the title of this blog. ("Conversation is the sex act of the soul" is from his book, "Soul Mates.") Everyone always says that the brain is the biggest sexual organ in the body. We all know this. But I've been realizing recently that my conversation libido is calibrated extremely high. I want to talk -- to converse -- five, six, seven times a day! With strangers, sometimes. But mostly with close dear friends. Conversing with women is different from men. Equally satisfying, but different. I imagine it is different in much the same way that making love would be dfferent. With men there is a give and take of opposites, a push and pull. In conversation with my women friends -- in which I've been indulging myself lavishly these days -- the flow is more like riding the rapids downstream, all currents pointing the same way but each contributing a new element of thrill. With men I grapple and strain and find immense pleasure in matching the strength of thought and the power of language. With women I revel in the heady sameness of our experience, the way our lives run in parallel lines. I try not to be a pig, but sometimes I get jealous when I think of anyone I've conversed with actually talking to other people. How clever they must be with the McDonald's clerk! How their voice must sound to the operator as they request directory assistance! I try not to go there. I try to remember that the magic between two people is special to their unique pairing. I remind myself that we can always talk again. And again. And again. I guess I'm turning into a conversational deviate. I want it better, faster, more often and with everyone I see. I want to go deep, last long, take it leisurely at times, and other times cut right to the chase. Sometimes I want it with multiple partners, sometimes just with one person over long stretches of time. But I also recognize that abstinence is sweet. Silence, with the promise of more to come, is a rare and soulful commodity. I want those moments of silence so I can reflect and remember. Sometimes it's good just to relax in the afterglow. # posted by Katherine Doughtie Nolan @ 11:30 PM  
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