One of the greatest misunderstandings about intimacy is that it’s either an intoxicating high or something that demands work.
True intimacy is neither. It is what naturally arises in the absence of grasping.
This is not necessarily an easy thing to hear. It’s much simpler to believe intimacy is something we either fall into or build. But in truth, it is already here. It is what remains when we stop resisting, stop contracting, stop holding on.
Intimacy is being with—with another, with ourselves, with the world as it is. We have to expand
what we mean by “intimate.”
The way we think of it now reduces it to arousal localized in the body, a fleeting sensation confined to erogenous zones. But intimacy is far bigger. It is the experience of merging—not just with a lover, but with life itself.
And yet, in expanding our understanding of intimacy, we cannot ignore the body. The body is a doorway to the mystical state. All doorways lead to the same place.
I speak about sexuality not because it is the only way in, but because it is profoundly neglected and misunderstood. It is denigrated, rejected, and buried under layers of shame and cultural distortion. It is buried under layers of shame and confusion, feared even as it beckons. And yet, it is one of the most immediate access points to what we long for. Unlike psychedelics, which require preparation, sexuality is right here. Available.
This is the key: seeing everything as an invitation to merge. To drop in. To meet what is before you without grasping. It takes precision—an ability to attune to the frequency of what is—and a willingness to let go.
Sex, when understood in this way, is not a thing we do. It is a way we live. Beneath the waves, there is only water—boundless, infinite, always available. To enter that space is to discover what has been here all along: the experience of making love, endlessly, in every moment.
So the real question is not how to achieve intimacy, but how to stop interfering with it. It is always here. We only need to relax enough to receive it.