Tag Archives: pleasure

Brier

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Brier: (n) any of a number of prickly scrambling shrubs

Maybe pleasure is the absence of pain. It seems like a dark definition.

Perhaps pleasure and pain should be separated by some great gulf to ensure they will not bang into each other. We could call that valley between the two “normalcy.”

But all of us know that’s a lie.Dictionary B

What we gradually learn is that having a wet diaper and a hungry tummy isn’t worth squalling about. It sure seems like we should do it when we’re babies–but that’s because we’re babies. Everything is about us and our comfort, and anything that disrupts us is considered so despicable that we must scream at the top of our lungs.

Nine years old and I went out picking blackberries. There were briers with thorns. The blackberries were beautiful. Can I also say they were quite tasty?

But I pricked myself three or four times and came back with a bad memory of the excursion because of a little pain.

Since that time, life has come along and beat me up quite a bit–to the point that being pricked in a brier patch seems miniscule, especially in comparison to the pleasure which comes from the fruit of my labor.

Maturity, especially spiritual ascension, is once and for all understanding that the absence of pain is pleasure.

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Boast

Boast: (v) to talk with excessive pride and self-satisfaction

Dictionary B

If doing it doesn’t give you an adequate boost of joyful satisfaction, then stop.

If you believe you need recognition, appreciation, applause or even space to perform your due diligence, you are destined to a life of sour despair.

There has to be joy in the doing, or the doing will become the burdensome chore of the malcontent.

I find that I’m only tempted to boast when I’m doing a job that really does not suit my taste and therefore needs to be bolstered by the admiration of others.

For instance, I was a writer long before I was read.

If I didn’t enjoy being a writer, I would have been absolutely miserable and would have made everyone around me fidgety as I complained about the arduous task of putting words on a screen.

I enjoyed it so I continued. If others end up finding purpose or pleasure in my phrasing and placement of notions, it’s just a magnificent manifestation.

If you find a boastful human, you will discover a soul who is not only insecure, but fearful that what they’re doing is a heap of meaningless.

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Blight

Blight: (n) something that frustrates plans or hopes.

Dictionary BWhen good is ignored because it’s not bad enough to be exciting.

That is the blight on every culture.

Any time we begin to believe that the pursuit of happiness, the joy of generosity and the cradle of creativity is not enough to instill enthusiasm in our lives, we bring an infection into our thinking, which culminates in chaos.

I ask myself a simple question: what can I do to bring joy to myself and my fellow-humans without being relegated to the role of the silly, foolish, naive dunce?

I don’t know why we think evil is so intriguing.

I don’t know why, in the presence of good, that Adam and Eve pursued the knowledge of evil.

Is there some sort of misguided notion that doing things in a cloud of deceit actually increases the level of pleasure?

  • For women, do bad boys make sex more exciting?
  • For men, do prostitutes actually have more experience for thrilling encounters?
  • Does lying make political victory sweeter?

Goodness has always suffered from bad public relations.

It is time to take the blight off of our society by exposing what really happens to darkness in the third act, instead of merely leaving the play after Act One … believing that wickedness is cool.

 

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Birth Control

Birth Control: (n) various methods for counteracting pregnancy

This amazing idea came to my mind, which probably, upon future inspection, will not seem quite as gleaming. But while it is still glistening in my gray matter, I shall write about it.Dictionary B

Let us be blunt: a man has a penis and a woman has a vagina.

Nature created these physical parts for the purpose of allowing our species to make smaller versions of ourselves, who eventually grow up, forget our telephone numbers and no longer contact us.

Simultaneously, gun manufacturers make weapons which often–even by design–resemble the human penis.

Now, we do have sense enough to find a way to take the procreative weapon of the penis and make it less dangerous to the vagina by generating all sorts of prophylactics to prevent pregnancy.

Only a few cults and religions object to such an intrusion–the Catholic Church, for instance.

So the Catholic Church is kind of the NRA of human reproduction. They believe that every penis should have the right to shoot wherever it wants, without interference.

But other religions, cultures and philosophies allow for the penis-gun to be more limited in its effectiveness. In other words, they allow various approaches to preventing pregnancy.

Without this, we would have indiscriminate births based on the cycle of the female of our species. Then we would begin to do strange things, like pushing euthanasia, turning our heads away from genocide or even trying to engineer processes by which we can control the type of child being born.

No–birth control is a good thing.

It keeps us from hurting ourselves, while still giving us the freedom to enjoy the right to pleasure our parts.

Hmmmm–now if we can just find a way to put a rubber on a gun …

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Bedroom

Bedroom: (n/adj) a room for sleeping in; relating to sexual relationsDictionary B

If you realize how silly we human beings are, it actually will make you become more merciful of the thoughts and actions of others.

This is evident to me with the word “bedroom.”

Even the dictionary can’t decide whether it’s a place of sleep or a launching pad for pleasure.

The bedroom itself, with all of its elements, is divided up equally as confusing.

For instance, the word “pillow” does not conjugate to any kind of sexual inference at all, but if you say “sheets,” then thoughts of what happens between them might cross your mind.

No one seems to get horny at the mention of a “blanket.”

And certainly, the word “dresser” does not rise up the blood pressure–unless you change it to “un-dress-her.”

How about the closet? I guess you could come out of it.

The accompanying bathroom does not evoke much passion.

But the word “mattress” does conjure visions of a high school fling or two.

I don’t think we are turned on by “box springs.”

But “night stand” might make us think about special implements and lotions located within.

We are so hilarious and uptight in our actions, yet often lascivious in our thoughts.

Yet if you did a chart on the amount of time you spend in the bedroom having sex, even reading and watching television would soar high above the antics.

Bedroom–another example of how childish we remain … while still insisting we are worthy of a mortgage.

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Bawdy

Bawdy: (adj) dealing with sexual matters in a comical way; humorously indecent.Dictionary B

Somewhere between porn and Puritan lies perfectly hilarious.

I have never been interested in pornography, and honestly, even less drawn to the life of the pilgrim.

Human sexuality is comical. Actually, it’s downright silly.

Even though some people videotape themselves having sexual intercourse, most of us would run away from such a viewing in a combination of embarrassment and horror.

Why? Because for those brief moments when we’re seeking pleasure, we also tend to reject all forms of pride and civilization.

Who cares?

All I know is that when we trivialize sexuality and make it merely a physical act, it normally develops tinges of violence.

When we say it is sacred and must be blessed by God’s presence, we repress our sexual instincts and invite perversion to create a playground in our being.

I am often bawdy.

Raising a bunch of sons, I joked with them and made it clear that sex was not a taboo subject, nor was it hatched in the heavens, surrounded by prayers.

It is one of the most important balances we can achieve: to land our understanding of human sexuality somewhere between monkey and angel.

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Bated

Bated: (n) in great suspense; very anxiously or excitedly.Dictionary B

When asked recently what would make the world a better place, without delay I replied, “Excitement.”

Feeling we are too mature to wiggle and squirm in anticipation, the average adult plows through a day’s activities without much emotion.

We call it control.

We insist it’s grown-up.

We fear the appearance of childishness, and in the process, lose the better parts of being childlike.

  • So we declare that “Christmas is for the children.”
  • The roller coaster was exciting, but well within the scope of our coping.
  • And romance and its pleasures are a matter of well-timed course.

Excitement is what allows us to believe that things can get better. If we are fully aware of all the possibilities, then we are no longer able to be surprised. And any creature who is incapable of being astonished at the beauty of creation soon loses the true significance of living.

I like to be excited.

Sometimes I like to excite myself, just to make sure it’s not broken.

But mostly, I feel the need to let my breath be bated by the beauty of something unknown. 

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Barbecue

Barbecue: (v) to cook meat, fish, or other food on a barbecue.Dictionary B

Annoying.

What is the definition of annoying? Annoying is anything that makes me grouchy instead of allowing me to enjoy the pleasure that was intended for the moment.

  • Barbecues are annoying.
  • Barbecuing, even more annoying.
  • Those who barbecue–annoying most of all.

Am I the only person who wants somebody to fix me a steak, put it on a plate and let me eat it instead of having to listen to the evolution of the whole process or hear the cook explain the tedious measures necessary to garner just the right sauce and tenderness for the meat?

There is more discussion of food at a barbecue than there is unabated joy in devouring it.

And God forbid that you should find yourself standing at the grill next to the Master Chef. By the time you get done listening to a recitation of recipes, mystery ingredients and correct temperatures for the best flavor, you will want to run from the premises and go out and eat a salad.

That’s how serious it is.

Everybody thinks they are an expert on almost everything–but most people eventually admit some weakness.

But not barbecuers.

They are the best, or nothing at all.

That’s why they make silly hats and aprons for the process, as a uniform to go along with the insanity.

So when I find myself invited to one of these escapades, I sit at the furthest table until I am sure that the food is thoroughly cooked, and then, when most people are being bored by the giver of the feast with a lecture on charcoal, I slip in, steal my portion from the platters, and run into the woods to eat … like a scalded bear.

 

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Balsamic Vinegar

Balsamic vinegar: (n) dark, sweet Italian vinegar that has been matured in wooden barrels.Dictionary B

I guess it was around age 35 when I stopped trying to be enticed and instead, allowed myself to be convinced.

Up to that point, everything needed to have a sensuality, an obvious value or a pleasure related to it in order to grab my interest.

To put it bluntly, a stick had to come along a poke my lust–whether a lust for food, romance, power or even work–to get me revved up and ready to go.

Yes, I needed to be enticed.

So in that time–those “salad days”–when I ordered a salad, I always got a mix of Thousand Island and Blue Cheese dressing. Why?

  • Because I loved the taste.
  • I loved the rich, thick texture.
  • And I think, secretly, I was enthralled by the number of calories.

But then when I reached 35, I started thinking about my mortality. Death is highly unlikely when you’re a kid. But death lurks in your late thirties, and even though it’s not prominent, it is still evident.

It was at that point that I realized my choice of salad dressings was contrary to my good health. So I investigated other choices.

The one suggested to me more often than any other was balsamic vinegar. “Low in calories, good for your tummy and a promoter of excellent digestion.”

When I tasted it, I wanted to run out of the room. It was not creamy. It was not delicious. It was intrusive. Yes, that’s the word.

But since I was trying to move out of a climate of enticement, I allowed myself to be convinced that this dressing was to my betterment.

To this day, when I go to a restaurant and they don’t have lower calorie options, I will order it–not because it’s enticing, but because I finally am convinced.

 

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Aphrodisiac

dictionary with letter A

Aphrodisiac : (n.) a food, drink or drug that arouses sexual desire.

Her name was Carol Ann. She was a cheerleader.

I was sixteen years old and always got a stirring in my Southern Hemisphere every time she walked by. Embarrassing as it may sound, it occasionally led to an eruption.

I was a teenager. I required no aphrodisiac. (Matter of fact, every year when the Sears catalogue arrived in our mailbox, I stole it, took it into my room and stared at the pictures of the models in their bras until pleasure had its way.)

That’s why, when I read our word today, I had to smile. An aphrodisiac is an additive which is necessary for those who have already lost the urge to participate in the game of love but still want to believe they are playing at mid-season strength.

It’s astounding to me the amount of sexual energy that overwhelms the human body between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five, when, for some societal determination, we are supposed to be more interested in taking chemistry instead of making chemistry.

By the time you are allowed to participate in the carnal cravings, the interest has already begun to wane a bit–thus the introduction of aphrodisiacs.

Unfortunately, most of us don’t know what stimulates true sexual passion. It really isn’t pornography, nor is it celibacy, just as being drowned doesn’t teach you to enjoy swimming and living in the desert doesn’t provide the correct environment for learning the back stroke.

There are three great aphrodisiacs in the human experience once you pass the age of thinking that every pencil looks like a penis and every marshmallow, a boob.

1. Great, intelligent conversation. There is something that makes us all horny–when we believe that we’re being heard and we become very proud of how well we listen.

2. Food that is prepared by other hands which you were able to pay for while summoning a waitress. Isn’t that a gas?

3. Admiration. Is there anything sexier than having a deep, abiding and lustful appreciation of the person you are about to ravage?

So by the time you need an aphrodisiac instead of just a cheerleader walking by, you must realize that magic potions rarely produce magic. That takes a delicious blending of the concoction of generosity and humor.

 

 

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