As a young person growing up, I had the idea that in order to be liked, I had to prove myself somehow. That might have been something I picked up from my dad. He eventually ended up in recovery for sex addiction, and my mom got a divorce because of all my father’s affairs, raising me as a single parent. The way that she talked about men, and particularly about my father and sexuality, made me sort of afraid to grow up to be a man and afraid of sexuality because those things were totally mixed up with hurting women somehow.
Not surprisingly, my experiences around the whole subject of sex made it really difficult for me to show up sexually in my life.
I was ashamed after the first time I had sex. After that, I rarely got intimate with a woman, going for long periods of time between relationships. I went through one period where I had no relationships at all for 15 years. I was carrying a lot of guilt and was confused and anxious to the degree that I developed an eating disorder. I’m five-nine, and I got down to 104 pounds at the low point—which was pretty serious. I went through long, dry spells interspersed with short, unsatisfying love affairs. Eventually, in my 40s, I found a woman I liked around my age, and we got married. We tried to have kids, but she had a couple of miscarriages. After that, sex became painful for her. No matter what I did, that aspect of our relationship didn’t work anymore.
Mary went to a therapist, who, among other things, recommended that we read a book that had descriptions of OM in it. I did, and I really appreciated the book. It just spoke to me, delivering the clear message that sexuality is natural and that healthy sexuality is a worthy thing to attain. It's not exactly a birthright because it's not handed to somebody at birth, but it's something that could be possible for any person. That’s when I became interested in OM. I thought, “Oh, this would be a cool thing to do together.” And she was open to that. So we did a 14-day "container" where we had an OM twice daily, once in the morning and once in the evening.
From the very start, it was powerful. It didn’t particularly shift things for her in a dramatic way, but it definitely was an intimacy-building practice. Just the fact that we both showed up for it and were willing to have this experience without knowing what it was going to be like—that, in and of itself, was a positive thing. We completed the two weeks and then OMed a few more times afterward. We separated a bit later, but OM brought us together for a time.
One of the things I learned from the short time that I did the practice was an appreciation of every single moment in the OM itself. And this attention to the moment and appreciation of whatever was happening, whether it was great, so-so, or not-so-good, kind of spilt over into a greater appreciation for all of life. Even though so much of my life has been kind of painful, there's appreciation for every moment. For instance, I remember the long years of being single and then meeting my current wife and how we were very slow in becoming intimate together. It was lovely. There is even a sweetness to getting older and arriving at age 40. Somehow, OM showed me that it's all good.
It also taught me to notice the energy in my body, to notice when it comes up and when it doesn’t—to notice when I am receiving and when I am not, to notice when I am giving and when I am not. It seems like a valuable practice and, in some ways, contributes to my sense of hope. It shows me I can have more experiences along those lines, become more sensitive, and grow.
Today, I'm thinking maybe it's time for me to start exploring OM again. I understand that my intention is possible and that there's support for that kind of growth. I don't have to reinvent the wheel, and that's super valuable.
