313 Marbles
Lord, make me chaste - but not yet.
St. Augustine
I woke up this morning with the damp realization that the closest thing I’ll have to sleeping in the wet spot is when my littlest son comes in my bed at night and pees in it (like he did last night). UGH! Yes, I know that the wet spot used to be the area of the bed that was avoided, but at this point, with 313 more marbles of chaste living to go, a little wetness is looking pretty good to me.
I know a woman who used to make her husband get up after they had sex and help her change the “dirty” sheets. I couldn’t imagine myself in post-conjugal relaxation mode being told by my lover to get up and perform a housekeeping chore. When I heard about her OCD behavior I told her that I thought she might want to work on it and was happy to hear recently that she has broken her compulsive tendency. The whole story makes me feel sorry for all the hang-ups we have about sex as humans and especially as women.
It’s Springtime where I am in time and space and I waffle between the longing for the wetness of sex and the idea that I could be celibate for life. Part of me is content with the ease of life on my own with my kids but it is the season of bare limbs in skimpy clothes. At times “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” runs a musical loop in my mind and I counter with a version of St. Augustine’s prayer, “Lord, I can be chaste when I’m dead, but I’m not dead yet.” Then I remind myself of the reasons why I'm celibate and I take the 365 Marble Commitment again. UGH!
Ahhhh, the good news is that five years after the writing of this post I am happy and well and have an amazing lover who helps me keep the wet spots coming, bluntly speaking. The desert-like dry spell post breakup did not last forever. Amen.
Lord, make me chaste - but not yet.
St. Augustine
I woke up this morning with the damp realization that the closest thing I’ll have to sleeping in the wet spot is when my littlest son comes in my bed at night and pees in it (like he did last night). UGH! Yes, I know that the wet spot used to be the area of the bed that was avoided, but at this point, with 313 more marbles of chaste living to go, a little wetness is looking pretty good to me.
I know a woman who used to make her husband get up after they had sex and help her change the “dirty” sheets. I couldn’t imagine myself in post-conjugal relaxation mode being told by my lover to get up and perform a housekeeping chore. When I heard about her OCD behavior I told her that I thought she might want to work on it and was happy to hear recently that she has broken her compulsive tendency. The whole story makes me feel sorry for all the hang-ups we have about sex as humans and especially as women.
It’s Springtime where I am in time and space and I waffle between the longing for the wetness of sex and the idea that I could be celibate for life. Part of me is content with the ease of life on my own with my kids but it is the season of bare limbs in skimpy clothes. At times “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” runs a musical loop in my mind and I counter with a version of St. Augustine’s prayer, “Lord, I can be chaste when I’m dead, but I’m not dead yet.” Then I remind myself of the reasons why I'm celibate and I take the 365 Marble Commitment again. UGH!
Ahhhh, the good news is that five years after the writing of this post I am happy and well and have an amazing lover who helps me keep the wet spots coming, bluntly speaking. The desert-like dry spell post breakup did not last forever. Amen.
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