When I initially began my exploration of sacred sexuality, I started with Tantra, as many people do. This led me to other sacred sexual concepts and practices, other belief systems, other spiritual paths. I found male multiple orgasms in Taoist thought; focused and directed energy in Wicca; vision and sacred space in Shamanic work.
I started with sex, but ended up truly exploring spirituality itself, with sex as the door, the jumping-off point. And even as I moved on, studying and experiencing beliefs that viewed sex as an earthly distraction from the divine, I came to see ways to connect (or re-connect) sex and sexuality, integrate it into the whole.
Most important, I came to see the connection in all things, all faiths, all beliefs. That while our religions seem very different, they connect far more than they diverge. Religion is how we explain life and the Universe, how we make sense of things, how we make rules for how we treat each other and our planet.
Spirituality, then, is how we integrate those rules, and choose which work for us, which make sense, which do not. We begin to learn that we can love God and still disagree with the tenets of one belief system or another. Most importantly, we learn that God can still love us, be a part of who we are, even if we choose to disregard some of the rules.
An artist friend insists that if you want to draw cartoons, you must first be a classically trained artist, drawing realistic anatomy. He says that you must learn the rules thoroughly, before being able to make intelligent and accurate choices about how to break them.
We break rules not to rebel, but because we’ve learned which rules must be followed and which can be broken, and when.
For many people, the idea of “sacred sexuality” – a connection between the divine and sex – is in itself a breaking of rules.
I am of the opinion that much of religion is like teaching the artist anatomy, or teaching a child to be safe in the kitchen. When a toddler comes close to the stove, we yell “HOT!” This startles, frightens the child. Even if the stove isn’t hot, we yell “HOT!” because it might be hot, and the child is too small to understand or discern when it is safe to touch it.
Sex is like that hot stove. Religion yells “HOT!” at us, whenever we grow close, because there is danger there. But as we grow up, we learn that the stove isn’t always hot. We learn when to tell if it’s safe to touch. Indeed, we learn that the stove is an important, valuable thing. We learn to use it, to cook, to nourish ourselves.
Sex is a wonderful, integral part of being a human being. We are born because of it; we spend our lives enjoying it, usually creating more little humans to live after we are gone.
Spirituality celebrates those things that are important to us, that are important to the Universe, to the divine, to each other. Sex is one of those things.
My initial study of Tantra was about following rules. Memorizing the names of chakras, colors and mantras. I studied other concepts with diligence. And I think these things are important, because they teach us how to find, focus, move and direct energy. We must learn the anatomy of energy.
But I have come to see sacred sexuality as a spiritual concept in and of itself, not a religion bound by rules. I don’t have to remember the mantra for the throat chakra in order to move energy through it. Truly, I don’t even need to believe in the whole concept of chakras. Because the more I’ve studied, the more connections I’ve seen, the more I’ve become clear: sacred sexuality is about understanding and moving energy. Indeed, life is about understanding and moving energy. And once you’ve got that, once that’s clear, the rules and details and order of religion become nothing more than ways to help us focus, to be present and tuned in and connected to the energy.
We can choose to create a sacred space in which to move our energy – beat a drum, create circle, chant and sing, meditate and breathe. We can use physical means to help us become present, and open to the Universe. We may need to do this, if for no other reason than to give ourselves permission to let go of our stresses and worries, and be in the moment.
But I think we can reach a point where we don’t need to do that. Where we can simply tap into the energy and direct it as needed.
We can choose to make sex sacred, even if we’re Christian or Muslim or Jewish. We can choose to make any aspect of life sacred. Or all of them.
One of the most amazing sacred sexual teachers I’ve had the honor to meet is Kenneth Ray Stubbs. On his Sexual Shaman website, he writes: “If we wish to understand Tantra, we must know energy. If we wish to understand Shamanism, we must know energy. If we wish to understand orgasm, we must know energy. If we wish to understand God/Source/Goddess, we must know energy. With energy comes wisdom. Without these, there is no transformation.”
Energy is in all things, from going to church, to going to work, to surfing the Internet, to sex, and everything in between. Energy is in the earth, the trees, the ants and sky and plants. Sacred sexuality teaches us how to explore that energy, tap into it. To see the holy, the sacred, in all things – in and outside the bedroom. We can break religion’s rules with love, to see that the Universe is like the hot stove – it provides us with energy to nourish the soul.
B. ;-*
