Is porn harmful?

Pornography has taught me much about the nature of lust, sexuality and perversion, about human nature, the potential of man and the spiritual self and its relationship to the whole.

As for the experience of the astral, telepathy and the control-dynamics, well that would be self-explanatory to those that are conscious of these aspects and how they relate to porn, though how conscious is the man that consumes flesh in this way?
Conscious enough to know that it can be harmful and even destructive (the porn and the energy aroused by it)?
Are the harmful and destructive elements the most attractive maybe, beyond the image, movie or act of sex itself and how in-tune is a man with his inner nature (sexual-spiritual-animal) while using porn?

Pleasure and fulfillment through porn-consumption seems to depend on those participating, I say 'those' because there are beings/spirits/entities as well as humans involved ultimately in any act.

It would be wise at all times to think of the consequences, sex though, it being physical for the most part and instinctive largely, the energy being often volatile and spontaneous can be difficult to handle wisely, if handle/control at all. Complete suppression certainly is not recommended.

May we be aware of the abuse and misery that comes from exploitation and lust, the control dynamics that always involve dark and disruptive elements for all involved and try at least to balance if possible these things with our personal needs and desires.

To condemn porn would be foolish in my opinion, pornography in all of its multiplicity is just too illusive as to be properly understood, at least from any kind of moral standing. It serves a purpose, it exists not without reason, created and purported by man, all part of the show.

Like other aspects of life, the ugly truths sound forth with or without our personal consent or control, or do they, and are they ugly?

The consequences of denying truth may well be considered ugly, the consequences of denying our nature may also be considered ugly; uncomfortable.

Obviously we can choose to be sovereign in our thoughts and our actions to the best of our ability and intent. I have found that there may well be a place for porn in this world; as a teacher, however; once the class has been taken and the lessons learnt, it would be well to move on to the next grade and not get stuck.

This has been and is a lesson about service to others during a time of indulgent service to self.

i want to be near you

I am now starting to understand that relationships really are mirrors and that our interactions with others are precious and valuable for self-reflection and growth.

Intimacy and sexuality with another can enable us to reach to deeper layers of ourselves.

What do we find there?
Clarity or confusion?

At least now I can see myself in a broader perspective, my habits, my addictions, the illusions I cling to, my insecurities,
also; my strength, my purpose, my worth, my dreams and my pleasure.

To realize this with you is like getting a new vision of my core needs, the things I really appreciate.
I am constantly changing and growing, I am a work in progress,
I see that I have become aware of more, I know much, more than before, thanks to my interaction with you.

I may move on or I may linger, I may want to hold onto you for a little longer, I may be able to live with you and share this life with you and be whole, despite the difference; still be sovereign, still be me in every sense.

I understand that there must be compromise between differing levels of consciousness, balance between views, a bridge, a common ground. I can continue to live by what I know to be right and honor your choices, respect your unique path even as I maybe disagree with your actions or style or vibe.

The greater knowing allows for all things to be and has reverence for the unfolding of life, the unraveling that spreads out in all directions and is non-linear, surely this will allow for great expression and creation,

I am sure that all my problems can be resolved, all aspects can be healed throughout time/space if this is required.

I see that I don't mind being uncomfortable, I don't mind being confronted, I don't mind feeling uncertain, no disdain when I'm with you, I can handle this because I want to be near you.

transform my thoughts, rearrange my energies

angels and guides
hear my prayer
deliver me I pray
from anxiety
from restless desire

send to me
I pray
a glorious one
from high
a sexual guide

may you be with me now
for counsel
for guidance
to show me the way of this love
of the body and the soul

may I be free
to open up to the world
knowing
that my needs will be fulfilled
in a way that is honourable
without shame

may I learn to play
to appreciate this vast
playing field
of desire and expression
with confidence

dearest guide
of magnitude and joyous light
to travel with me on this road
may I pass through
healing lands
healing hands

like this

If anyone asks you how the perfect satisfaction of all our sexual wanting will look,
lift your face and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness of the nightsky,
climb up on the roof and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God's fragrance" means,

lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings of your robe.

Like this.

~ Rumi

the eye in the eye

we do not speak of that
love/death
prefer not to speculate
knowledge protects

we do not feel truly alive
sexual machinations
more like a fly
trapped in a web

toying with scenario's
based on assumptions
when did that work?
in the flesh

the spirit is static
like a backwater
comletely submerged
maya maya

the cold of this climate

Through this undertone of deep sorrow
I continue to wish that it was over
This life, because I have never had the time
for romance, soul longing
Desert of rampant gay sex destruction
spread like a cosmos of death
They claim it brings joy but I cry such tears
at the lack I perceive, the cold of this climate
My soul, you know of this cruelty, you know of this desolation,
yet you do nothing, you pitiful creature
It is not great what you have done.
This sort must be extinct, the species that would love and be loved
so simple, somehow innocent, you are naive, you are dumb!
Such wishful fantasy to think
that your fellow men, even know it
You percieve, such fellowship, fools practise
this temporary oblivion.
I am dying, I pray I am dying
This reality just renders me, these dying embers are gutting,
cutting to the inner flesh of me,
such a simple thing; a touch, a smile, simple romance
unknown, companionship,
I cannot be contained here, I am alone
just a tremble of warmth, I see none in this city
I am a sorrow, self pity
no, no, not going out to get
to take, steal, there are none

psychic

Patience with sexual expression, no haste with being on the recieving end of love. No worries about self-actualization knowing that there is no such thing as wasted time.
The outward results (inner results too) are no definitive precursor of what will be, merely a signpost at a crossroads.
Waiting quietly for more goodness to unfold, yes there is a wave coming, yes this is the valley, yes this is the silence before the storm. No, there is nothing to fear.
Psychic attacks are less morbid, they go by faster and lack any real threat to long-term peace of mind. A little suicide obsession that tries to take back lost ground. Be calm, be still, but be alert.
relaxation-valley

लोवेर्स दंचंग न थे न्घ्त

Awakened desire, fire kindled,

Burning its way upwards

I want to share this.

Never knew it was available

In shop windows and rear view mirrors

Just, on display and wanting to play

Relax and take your shoes off

Unbutton your shirt

Stop that trembling aura I feel,

There is a soft wind coming

On your chest rising to the open window

There are whispers of delight

Partaking of warmth

Sexual music and healing language

Of bodies in a conversation

Of bathroom condensation

As well

Lovers dancing in the night

mental organ

Economy of recreation and of time management: deemed impossible.

Stretched calves and sinews, the complexity of the whole matters, the complexion, and the sex also matters.

Allowing, allowing, letting, no fighting, build up of tension and then relaxation.

The interference is blocking the manifestation, again and again I hear: have patience.

Waiting To Polarize?

sex-confusion

Years have passed and the fire still burns late at night, there is less confusion, all thoughts are pushed away, they may return at a later date, for now it is clear; I cannot choose and I need not. All of this society would be happier if I did, it might mean that they have some perspective, a label to stick on me, a box to put me in. Ha, I am sorry all, but for now I remain somewhat elusive when it comes to this.

But what of love? For certainly those that love me would like some certainty, o I love you man and yes I love you woman. Rest assured I love you both but in this human arena the love does differ, the feel of it changes from time to time, the body is the same but you that I lye with: you are changing, my lust is changing like seasons flowing into one another.

I always return to her in my mind, I see her as the goal, the ending, quite sure that is my conditioning rearing up again but this brings confusion and joy for I am young! He is more like a passing ship or an island, and I stranded happily on his shores, together walking, sleeping in the sun and more. When the tide comes in the ocean beckons, the sea goddess is spreading the waves bringing in the moon and I am lost without her, there is no strength in him, he is weak as I am.

Once caught up in the emotion, just floodwaters of intimacy, her body is like an anchor for me, we are one. It is from here on that I think and sink, muse over the future, making plans on my own until I lose interest and seek new shores. She is waiting for me to drown so she might rescue me and take me in.

So much electricity when he is near, so much excitement, so many past life memories enthralling me when we are together, so much sex-energy! I could not leave this momentum in my life to settle down until she calls me, until she is once again in the main frame and then I long for her.

Man and woman you are in my life. Such a complex pendulum of confusion and so you see: I must stay elusive, alone I am at rest, a star in space. When love is near I will take it, I will resonate with it, I will give it back in return but you see my lovers: I am still waiting to earth, still waiting to polarize.

The true nature of sexuality.

Sexual Nature

Man or woman! I might tell you how I like you, but cannot,

And might tell you what is in me and what is in you, but cannot,

And might tell you the pinings I have . . . the pulse of my nights and days.

(Walt Whitman, The Sleepers - 1855)

new Guardian

While passing through these marshes of somewhat unintended living, wading through this ever present identity of secret sexual mystery and that body of fear, some would certainly name this: the shameful expression.

I cannot deny the life-force rising.

Because of my negation, I miss this presence of confidence in my life, this force that is honorable, I miss this conviction and yet here it is rising from the submission, that area so grey that it cannot be defined, impenetrable, stubborn wasteland of orgiastic indulgence.

The life-force is the guardian.

sex-confusion

Physical electricity, I can’t do anything about it. The mind has no hold over the thoughts that flow upwards from the heart, downwards from the heart. He is what I used to be, I recognize my own insecurity in his eyes, his body is thicker, more masculine, not quite a man yet. His every move fills me with excitement.

I am not like them, the fixations I have.

He knows about me and I know what that means because I used to be like him. I want him to know but at the same time I try to cut the connection with a fury, just to spare him from that which I have already been through. I want to protect him from the gut wrenching fear and despair. I want him to love himself without my meddling.

I feel alive while I’m slipping into their consciousness like a thief breaking into someone’s private space and afterwards I sometimes feel guilt for doing what comes naturally.

The females are safe, controlled, and unaware of the games we play together; the women play their own private games, oblivious to us men. I want to slip inside their minds and feel through their bodies, I want to know their thoughts and do. I want to comfort him like a woman cannot, the men want to reciprocate but still differentiate because of their conditioning.

One meeting a soul from a past life, meeting a sexual partner from a past life in a body like my own, with a soul so like my own, with a lust so like my own, with a need so like my own. Yet we both remain alone.

She provides the missing, she is the embrace I need and she needs me. She is like a mother and I am like her father; one meeting a soul from a past life. I would carelessly spend years in her company just because it feels safe; the conditionings have made it safe for me to lye next to her and not feel afraid. She could transform me, mould me and she does but still I am not content, the years are empty.

When I felt him for the first time he was a metre away and I knew then how we coincide. I never felt the calm before, it lasted just minutes but felt like a lifetime, it felt like an eternity because it was, it was recognition and a remembrance. It was a realization of time before birth, life before conception.

The second time I felt him he was hundreds of miles away but he was on fire for me. He was burning for me; again it was recognition because I used to be like him. I know what it feels like to be him sometimes. He was reaching out to me for comfort without lust, for love without hope, for someone who knows what it is like to burn.

Are we burning together in vain while they surround us and watch us, they always keep an eye on us and try to own us. They want us for them. I am their brother, I am their father, am I their lover?

We carelessly spend years in their company because it feels safe; it feels right because of the conditioning.

I have not yet let myself explore his body, it feels impure, I have no private room where he lies naked on a bed waiting for me, like a mystery that has no place in this reality. I have not felt his hand in mine, when I shook his hand we were straight.

It’s not strange that she accepts me, she is open to everything I hide inside, she is curious to know about my private lives, who can blame her? We once shared everything together, we once were one but we cannot go back at this time. The love we need to have together is out of reach because of the way we feel in this dimension.

I love her when I am not with her, I adore her when I am not burning, and I surrender to her when I am cold, she cannot set me on fire like he can. They cannot set me on fire like he can.

This life is a changing room, a changing room with a curtain. This life is a distance I seek to overcome, a valley I must cross. Love is a mystery to me, it has no outcome, it has no time span, love is the rain that falls softly on my hard earth, it is like rain that fills the cracks but disappears, and it dries up within hours, I have been so thirsty. I have been looking upwards, waiting for the storm, waiting for the wet season, waiting for my own personal monsoon.

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guilt free humanity...

One thing has to be absolutely clear about my work: I don't want anybody to feel guilty about anything. I want humanity to be completely free from guilt. Now all the religions of the world have done just the opposite: they have made people feel very, very guilty. They have made all people feel like sinners. That's why the world is so miserable. The ceremony has lost its music, its dance. Everybody is so sad and the whole thing has become ugly because everybody is so guilty. If you eat this, you are guilty; if you drink that, you are guilty. If you make love to this woman, you are guilty. If you have some revolutionary ideas, you are guilty. If you have some eccentric sexuality, you are guilty.... a thousand and one traps to make you guilty! Unless you completely deaden yourself you cannot be respected. So society respects only dead people, and the alive people are all guilty and sinners. My whole approach is just the contrary, the diametrically opposite-I would like you to feel happy. Whatsoever you do, you are excepted!

OSHO - At the Feet of the Master.