Hate the Tumescence, Not the Host

Tumescence is the cloud bank of the mind, the buildup of unexpressed arousal and desire. Think of it like a dye that spreads through the bloodstream, spreading a non-locatable sense of disease and insufficiency. And, the way a drunk person does and says stupid things, so does one  under the influence of tumescence. It vomits up disdain and judgement. It steeps in craving. It  ignores the love that would save us.

It’s what made the Gospel of Thomas say “That which is not expressed will destroy you, that which is will be your salvation.”

Think of it as potential gone to rot in your soul. And you are living in the fumes.  And so are the people around you. The one that said the crappy thing about you that got back to  you, the one that bumped you with her cart at the supermarket. The haters and the trolls online  and in your head. The fear-mongers and the hate-mongers. The ones mindlessly dropping  bombs.

All humans riddled with tumescence. Tumescence cloaked in a human body. It’s in you, it’s in me.

Vow to get that crap out. Out of you, out of me, out of each other, out of this world. Take that finger of blame and point at the real culprit: the backed-up clog of the human desire to create, to express, to make love, to taste the sensuousness of life, to enliven the senses, to collect all  that potential and use it to break through the membrane we are locked behind.

Human arousal? That’s what it’s there for. That is its evolutionary purpose. Tamp it down, turn it off, “unplug” it, and pay the consequences. Feel like a bitchy, tight, ready to cry, anxious, overly  emotional, hyper-vigilant weapon of destruction wrapped in a too tight wrapper.

Create or destroy

Empower or disable

Up to you. But be clear, those are the options. There are no angels wings, yoga poses, or spiritual treks that will get you out of this one. This one is about your arousal, baby. That is how a woman transcends and goes beyond. She walks out of the spirit rooms and lands into the creative studios, the art galleries, the writing salons, the bedrooms, and her own body. She gets off the phallic determination to ascend or go beyond, climbs into that vaginal yearning to create and go deep.

Oh that? That’s just tumescence darling. You will learn to say when you are offended, hurt, or  pissed off. When you see a woman stuffing food down her throat or starving herself. When you  see the back-biting and the subtle stealth maneuvers to “get” because desire has been driven  underground and must operate under the table in less than attractive ways. As if you put on a  pair of night goggles, and can now see an invisible energy.

And boy, you will see it

e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e

You will want to unsee it, in yourself and in others. Suffering? Pain body? Entropy?  Depression? Trauma?

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