Gabriel Morris in India

Gabriel Morris in India
A mysterious cave in south India.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Goddess Quest, Chapter 3

Chapter 3. Man vs. Wild

Women are indeed, to some extent, volatile and unpredictable. Deep down they are wild, untamed creatures prone to random emotions, spontaneous expression, powerful desires, unbridled passion, ever-changing moods, animalistic instincts, intuitive, irrational knowings and much more. And that is the beauty of them, to be honored and celebrated.

Men and women alike have some element of primal, unbridled essence and urgings buried deep within our brains and in our souls, which expresses itself in countless different ways as a myriad assortment of thoughts, feelings, emotions, passions, desires, urges, aggressions and basic human love. But most will probably agree that in general, men tend to tilt more towards the rational, reasoned, thinking mode of being, whereas women tend to be more intuitive, feeling and emotion conscious. That’s not to say that women don’t have the thinking and reasoning part nailed as well, as they have proven over the past several decades in universities and in every profession that they can handle all the subjects and careers that men had previously dominated.

But there’s something about emotional energy that is deemed more primal, more raw, more spontaneous and uncontrolled than the realm of thoughts and ideas. And at the center of womanhood is this emotional presence, something intangible, untestable, mysterious; an energy expressed, for example, in the swaying, undulating movements of a belly-dancer, that mesmerizes and captures the attention of men and women alike. It’s that expression of freely-flowing energy in motion, in a rhythm that’s both hypnotically in sync and yet at some level unpredictable and ever-changing. It’s expression free of the limiting constraints of the rational mind, moving spontaneously and un-self-consciously, fully in the moment.

Emotions and feelings just want to be allowed to be free and express themselves in such a way, dancing to the music with abandon. But the rational mind lives in a different realm and tends to feel overwhelmed by emotion, so it seeks to control it. This is, in essence, the ongoing conflict between men and women that leaves us all out of balance and disconnected.

And yet, there is obviously something in femininity that men want. Men sense that this vibrant, powerful, free-flowing energy is important and vital to life, and that it makes things interesting and life worth living. Because without women there would be no love, and without love, at least some trickle of it, there is really no point to life. So men want to be near it, want to sense it, want to dip a toe in and taste the essence of the feminine—just without having to commit to the whole enchilada. Men want to get close to women to varying degrees; just not too close, to the point where they feel as if they’ve lost control of things.

Women, on the other hand, want to be a heck of a lot closer. They want to merge at the heart-soul level. They want to feel that sense of oneness that they know is the real purpose of life. Because they know instinctively that the feeling of oneness with another person has the potential to inspire oneness with the whole universe, and that this feeling is our true nature and eclipses anything else as being remotely important.

To the vast majority of men, however, this sort of airy-fairy, idealistic talk, in its many forms, makes absolutely no sense. They just want to get naked and screw on a fairly regular basis, and then get a good night’s sleep and get to work on time. The world of all these weird, subtle feelings, intense emotions, vague impressions and visions of something much grander happening in their relationship is a fantasy land that they don’t have time or energy for, or much interest in. It’s the wrong direction. Men are focused on the real world around them. But women always seem to want to talk about something inside them that they just can’t let go of, despite men’s not-so-subtle hints that they don’t give much of a hoot.

From the man’s point of view, it’s the women who are never satisfied. They want more communication, more information, greater insight into the depths of your soul. They always want to know what you’re thinking and feeling, when men would rather keep most of their thoughts to themselves. And if they’re feeling anything at all, it’s almost certainly irrelevant to the problem at hand. Either way, it‘s the last thing in the world they feel like talking about. Where, exactly, is the fun in that?

Why can’t women just enjoy a good screw, and consider it an exclamation point at the end of a perfectly good day, rather than a question mark that requires an answer, more talking, more explanation, more discussion, more cuddling and sharing, more intimacy…..something more that women are always nagging you for, when you’re tired and pretty well satisfied with things at that point and have nothing left you need to do or say. For men, that momentary spark of real togetherness is the conclusion at the end of the book; whereas for women it‘s just the first chapter. But the man has the cock, literally and figuratively, and when it’s spent there’s nothing much he can do anymore or so he thinks. And so he has a good excuse to turn the other way and call it a night. And the woman is left wanting much more.

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