Expectations in your sexual & romantic relationships…

We’re told that in order to be free, that in order to love freely and unconditionally, that leaving our expectations at the door is necessary in order for us to fully enjoy the experience. I do not disagree with this, however I think it can be healthy to have expectations in our sexual and romantic relationships. I believe it’s important to find practice that enhances your life, the life of those around you and enriches your relationships with the people in your life–your relatives, your friends, your lovers, your partners, acquaintances, co-workers, housemates and every single human being that crosses your path–those seen and unseen.

In my romantic and sexual relationships I’ve developed expectations that have completely transformed the type of people who are drawn to me, their actions toward me and most importantly how I feel and see myself in love, sex, desire and attraction. You should establish your expectations based on how you want to treat others around you. My expectations are as follows:

  • I expect to share in laughter with my lovers/partners
  • I expect for you to give me shit! They include:

El Amor…

Let me make love with my ideas and birth them into this world. If you would watch it would bring me joy–even if you would only be my witness. Let me submerge into this feeling. Into this feeling of unknowing. I used to be scared but each day I’m learning to trust that all will be well. When there is only love inside, that’s all that can emerge. And so I love and watch all of life around reflect that love back to me.

Para que vea: I’m getting married!

I listen to Bob Dylan often. Especially when my mind begins to stir, confounding my heart with it’s foolishness. But a quiet mind is like a precious stone–all the world clamors and begs for just a moment in its presence. I find myself a seer in the midst of a loud a bustling city. Somehow, I’ve managed to cultivate peace in my home. While all outside hollers and sings, bachata and hip hop playing loud from cars and windows; barbershop talk spilling onto the sidewalks and the young people on my steps, some with their babies laughing loud, playing, drinking, smoking–I find stillness and hear the trees and birds singing, grasshoppers hopping into my apartment from the open window with no screen.

Two years ago my sister came to visit me from Atlanta. Not unlike her she had complained about many things. Namely the fact that she wanted two things: a husband and a daughter. Though it would likely kill her if she got pregnant again, she always longed for a girl–she already has two boys. A little over a year ago she met someone. Continue reading

Prayer for: The 15th letter of the Alphabet

Now I lay me down to sleep, my hands trace my body the way you did the other night. I stay in anticipation because I don’t know when you’ll return. Always vigilant I try to keep my sins forgiven hoping that maybe, just maybe you’d encourage me to kiss you and then cum all over your dick. When I don’t turn on the news or buy into my Facebook feed then I remember all the righteous beauty; I remember all of your chocolate goodness, the roundness of your muscles and how all of them make me excited. When I don’t turn on the news or buy into my Facebook feed I don’t see all of ‘god’s children’ wreaking havoc. Continue reading

My Religion of Late

“Quietly go to work on your own self-awareness. If you want to awaken all of humanity, then awaken all of yourself. If you want to eliminate the suffering in the world, then eliminate all that is dark and negative in yourself. Truly, the greatest gift you have to give is that of your own self-transformation.”      – Hua hu Ching: The Unknown Teachings of Lao Tzu

To begin there was nothing but happiness, joy and lightness. No deity, no sin, no reward, no punishment and no regulation. The hue of my mother’s skin and its softness–her perfect dark brown and my father’s rough hands. He would toss me around like I was a little boy–I was always the roughest, always a tomboy as a child. Even now from time to time. Mami told me he didn’t hold us often when we were infants because he thought he would break us. He probably would have; to me he was the strongest human on the planet. I remember being a toddler always with him and his friends. They would treat me like one of the boys. In Panama he and his best friend were so close and similar that I would call them both Papi–never distinguishing between the two. I would climb all over Papi and he would spin me around, pin me in his legs–which to me were like iron bars and hold me there for a long time as I struggled to get out as he watched TV in his bed–each time thinking I was stronger than he was, always growing fast and strong, like he used to say. I could never escape though, I couldn’t escape his love. Mami would sit me down every few days between her legs. She’s the epitome of femininity–like a hairless puppy. (Not like me, so much like my father in how I walk, sit, gesture and hairy everywhere–especially my belly.) No, Mami doesn’t have any hair on her legs or her chin, very little under her arms, skin as smooth as a baby, complexion perfect. Mami would pick out my afro first, grease my scalp, little braids with shiny clips or big plaits with bolitas at the base (Black American girls called them bobos, I used to think that was weird). There was only love between her legs where I used to sit. She made me beautiful–negra linda. She gave me comfort. She seldom lost her temper. She loved me when my actions would have made me unlovable to anyone else. She breathes tenderness and kindness, patience and beauty. As I child their love was my only religion.  Continue reading

Week of Truth: Baila

One of the most fulfilling things for me is rumba, salsa, guaguanco. I love to dance. I write about it a lot. I don’t love performance-style dancing but I’m realizing that there may be a choreographer inside me somewhere. I have endless ideas about how I’d like dance to look but can’t always execute–as I’m not a “classically” trained dancer and I can’t walk on my toes (yet). Since it’s the week of truth–the truth is that as much as an old school mambo purist as I am, I be imagining dancing salsa to Trey Songs and R. Kelly ALL THE TIME!  And since baby making R&B makes me happy too, I decided rumba to R&B…so here goes a little taste. I’m working on finishing that entire song, I wanna do something interesting with slow jams and salsa—we’ll see.