ask mr. owl

I well remember the commercial of the little boy going to the turtle to ask how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop, and the turtle sends the boy to the owl, who discovers that it takes one, ta-hoo, three, crunch.

In my case, it took 23 days to get to the Tootsie Roll center of my... well, whatever.

I'm not saying I failed my s'experiment, just that I have to start counting again.

A year's a long time.

s'experiment: day 13

I stopped the daily lavender self-massages because I was getting a little carried away...

I read on the web that physical exercise is a good idea for celibates, so I'm going back to yoga starting tonight. We'll see how that goes, since I have a crush on the yoga instructor!

I also read that after some time of abstaining a certain "sweet smell" permeates the celibate, which I guess is the unexpelled testosterone finding other places in the body. I don't know really, and I don't think I've been abstinent for long enough for that to be the case.

I do know that on day 10 I went to a theater show and a man was giving me quite a number of sideways and otherwise interested looks from across the room. And last night I went to see a friend perform and several people said how handsome I looked. I did like my outfit -- brown corduroys, a slender Banana Republic sweater and my cool "birthday" hat -- but I'm wondering if I wasn't putting off some kind of energy that wasn't my usual energy, sort of a calm and sensual energy, perhaps.

Also, I have a new friend I've been hanging out with, getting to know a bit, a lesbian who is kind of a tomboy. I was thinking that we're a perfect couple to pal around because our interests in the romantic department are so opposite each other that there's no competition and no connection on that level, although I have had a crush on her for some time. Then again, I have crushes on all sorts of people, so I don't see why that should change.

(photo: copyright © 2005-2008 Joseph Hoyt. All rights reserved.)

s'experiment: day 9

A friend of mine asked me recently if by being celibate I meant not masturbating either, which I thought was an odd thing to ask, because if masturbation is allowed, I've been celibate for the better part of the past two years (with only occasional "slips"). She had heard about some group -- I don't remember if they were monks or what -- who had to be celibate for their living situation, but who were also encouraged to masturbate. I guess to keep them from getting too frisky.

I was thinking very seriously the other day about the masturbation question, wondering if I was actually making things worse for myself by keeping it "bottled up," so to speak. When I went to the polls on election day to see the long lines (that didn't exist) and spent some time talking to the election official at the door of the library -- whose job it seemed was to point people in the right direction and thank them for voting when they exited -- I was seeing some mighty good looking young people, formerly-angry black men, tattooed and pierced punk rockers, upscale homosexuals; I was feeling some strong attractions, looking for the lumps, feeling the love. On my bike ride home I wondered if maybe I was doing myself (and the world at large) a disservice by not masturbating, if it was gonna cause me to leer even more so than before I took this goal of celibacy upon myself.

And for a year?! WTF!?

I Googled "celibacy - masturbation" and the first link that came up was a medical professional writing "A surprisingly large number of people wonder if masturbation is permitted if one is 'celibate.'" The second link was by a Catholic priest writing about how to overcome the masturbation sin; the one after that a man's blog on his journey of "transitional celibacy" (I suppose to a state of "regular sexuality") and his 12-step take on it.

I don't think of masturbation as a sin or an addiction. Well, maybe it's addictive, but I don't think I have a "problem," certainly not one that would require a 12-step program, since I'm generally opposed to 12-step programs, period. For me, it's more about changing my constant view of the world through sex-colored glasses (I was about to write "semen-smeared glasses," but that's gross).

The man in the blog was excited that he had had 20 days of celibacy, but the entry was written nearly a year-and-a-half ago, and there are no follow-up entries. I picture the poor guy face down in a gutter in the seedy part of town right now, woody in hand.

I have found something that helps me overcome my cravings to "have a wank on the knob," as the Brits say. I don't know if it would be considered masturbation, but I spend a timed five minutes touching myself, massaging my dick and balls with lavender oil. Lavender is known for its calming qualities, so I thought it might be useful in this instance.

Surprisingly, it has been. I get a warm sensation, but it's not like a turned-on heat, it's more of a hot bath kind of effect. It feels real nice. During the process, I don't find myself thinking about sex, or boys, I'm just paying attention to myself. There's always a spot in the middle front of my balls that feels cool, almost cold to the touch, so I rub the flesh between fingers and thumb to warm it up.

Of course, I want more of this good feeling, but I don't feel like I can't help myself, can't stop myself. When the five minutes is up, I put myself away and get back to work or whatever I was doing previously, the warm feeling remains for a few minutes, and I feel a sense of satisfaction, as much because I've given myself attention as because I haven't ended my experiment by spilling my seed.

Yet.

We'll see how it's going 20 days in. Perhaps I'll blow off this experiment like the other blogger did. But maybe not. Already I don't feel nearly as crotch-focused as I was when I was masturbating daily.

s'experiment

I meditated for five minutes with my erect penis in my hands. I was feeling very distracted trying to work, and wanting to masturbate (because that sometimes temporarily dissipates the distraction). But really not wanting to masturbate.

So I tried something. I got the kitchen timer and my meditation cushion, plopped it in the middle of the living room floor, dropped my pants and pushed START on the timer and held onto myself. It wasn't masturbation; it wasn't even really much movement, I just wrapped both hands around my dick and balls.

Of course I got an erection. But I just held it, just let the heat of my hands go into it, and the throbbing of blood pulse back against the palms of my hands.

Five minutes is a long time when you haven't meditated in awhile! And of course my thoughts wandered. I thought about my yoga teacher on whom I distracting crush, I thought of the young straight guy who was experimenting and with whom I had a momentary sexual exchange a couple of summers ago.

When the beeper went off, I released myself, stood up still erect for the moment, pulled up my pants, put the timer away and came back to my desk to work, and then decided to blog. I think the urge to masturbate really has passed. For now.

s'experiment

The bottom half of my body is alive!

I had to shave a stripe down my left leg to get a tattoo on it, but the place where I shaved my forearm for a previous tattoo had not grown back evenly, so I shaved my whole leg to avoid the annoying tuft of hair I had on my arm.

I rather liked the way my naked and tattooed left leg looked, all smooth and shiny from the lotion I keep on it to help the tattoo heal and to moisturize my whole leg, so the other day, I decided to shave my right leg. And while I was at it -- because I didn't know where to stop -- I shaved all the hair off of my body, all of it, including my torso, arms and pits. All of it that I could reach comfortably with the electric shaver. I didn't use the Mach III Turbo and shaving cream because that would be a lot more annoying when it started growing back in.

I'm not so crazy about the way my torso and arms look, but that's okay, it'll grow back, and I'm not trying to impress anybody with my prepubescent look. But I do like the look of my shiny stubbled legs!

It struck me during the process that I was doing some kind of an alteration to my body to coincide with my year of celibacy. Like wearing a hair suit or flogging myself the way a devout religious person might be drawn to do.

My sexual thoughts have not subsided so far, and who knows if they will at all, or if they will completely. It's not like I've had a very active sex life over the past couple of years. Other than masturbation. I am attempting to give even that part of my sexual expression a break during this experiment. Masturbation isn't always so much of a sexual expression; sometimes it has served merely as a release, a relaxant. I wouldn't hesitate before taking a few moments to jerk off and cum if I felt tense, or bored, pretty much daily. But most of that time it was accompanied by looking at porn on the web. That obsessive part of my sexuality is something I'm trying to get past.

I imagine I could probably look at porn without masturbating, but I think that would defeat my greater purpose. I'm not trying to push myself to the limits to see what I can overcome, I'm just trying to move beyond the constant need for something that never really satisfies completely. So I deleted the bookmark folder labeled "Entertainment" and I am aiming to move past the urges to satisfy myself in this way.

And now I'm aware of my body like never before, the pendulous swinging between my legs, the busy testicles heavy with semen ready for the next blast. Will this subside? Will I get over it? If I make it through this year ahead of me, will I be ready to get off, or will I not even care anymore?

I'm curious to discover what kind of shift(s) will take place in my body and mind. Will my brain feel as alive as my crotch does right now?

s'experiment

When I hang out with that guy for very long, I always want to kiss him. He's got nice lips, soft features. I told him I'm experimenting with a year of celibacy. I told several people. I want to get it out there, because I think it will help me in my goal. But still, I can't help thinking about how kissable he is, and I can't help but imagining saying so to him, and fantasize that he would say, "Cool."

birthday season update #4

When it's at its best, the Dance can be quite spiritual. And it was last night. It blotted out whatever else I did yesterday. A did the music, and she's the best. There was plenty of bump-and-grind and lots of fun rhythms. It's really hard to describe the experience, and particularly now since I'm anxious to get out the door and get on with my day, my actual birthDAY, but it was very healing.

I've decided to attempt a year of celibacy, starting today. That means getting rid of the links to the porn sites I sometimes visit; that means not having sex, not masturbating. But more than all of that it means a kind of change in my mindset.

I've realized lately that I put nearly every relationship I have into somewhat of a sexual context, whether it's somebody I want to have sex with, somebody I don't want to have sex with, somebody I can't have sex with, somebody I have had sex with, or if their actions make me feel sexual. All of this sexuality causes me a lot of suffering, I've realized, so my attempt at being celibate for awhile is really about freeing myself from the suffering. It sounds silly to say I'm taking a "vow" of celibacy, because I'm not a monk, and I'm not really even much of a practicing Buddhist. But I will say I'm taking a vow of reducing suffering in my world (though I typed "cow" instead of "vow" three times before I got it right, whatever that may mean!).

At the end of the Dance last night, as the music got more gentle and introspective, I found myself sitting on the dance barre and humming along with the vocals, and crying. I looked around the room at the beautiful people holding each other or dancing alone or around the room, and I said goodbye to my sexuality, I just let it go. It was like seeing a friend leave on a long trip, a friend I've had a sometimes difficult relationship with.

And then I lay on the floor face down and said a prayer for myself, to myself, and suddenly there were hands on me, people touching me, rubbing on me, loving on me. It wasn't a sexual experience, and unlike previous times when something like this happened in the Dance (and it can quite often), I didn't care if the hands were female or male, if it was somebody I might want to have sex with. It was just love.

I think this S'experiment might be difficult. I plan to blog about it and explore my thoughts and feelings regularly and try not to judge myself or others over the things that come up. But I will try to be as honest with myself and in my writing as possible. This could be transformative. I look forward to the experience. And I'm scared shitless.