Along with millions of other humans, I am currently sitting and waiting.
Wondering if, when and how the cyclone will hit.
I’ve watched the forecasts.
Prepared the land on which I live.
Secured the house.
And now I wait…
This space feels edgy.
Unpredictable.
And unknown.
I’ve experienced floods and storms before.
But never a cyclone.
At times I can feel the rising anxiety bubbling in my chest and tightening my throat.
At other times, I can sit back and find the stillness in my belly, knowing that I am ready.
It is interesting to witness others as we all navigate this wild unchartered and sometimes familiar space.
How our automatic patterns click-in and we try to control the uncontrollable.
How we orient to familiar anchors that help us feel prepared.
How some are dismissive, even excited.
And others feel overwhelmed and immobilised with fear.
It causes me to wonder – what do we anchor to when faced with forces bigger than ourselves?
When we are inevitability in unknown territory and feeling unsure.
When anything is possible and imminent.
Is it our mind or our body that we invite to lead?
Do we find our centre in our selves or do we attempt to seek it in the constant flow of news?
With my calendar clear, I am writing.
Workshops, blogs, emails.
And my mind goes to consent as I see the similar parallels.
How sex and intimacy with others can evoke the same flavour of unknown, anticipation and need to find solid ground.
Erotic energy is like the wind.
It can blow fast and hard, exciting us with the power of pleasure.
It can whip us into a frenzy of ecstasy and then whisper gently and softly on our cheek.
It can lift our feet off the ground and evoke anxiety and fear.
It can invite us into the unknown realms of discovery and exploration.
What do we anchor to in these experiences?
How do we prepare and contain what is possibly to come?
How do we ensure our house is in order and we are ready?
In our modern world, we lack the necessary preparation that sets us in good stead for the best experiences of pleasure possible.
Many people find themselves uncertain, anxious and ill-prepared.
Especially when it comes to talking about and negotiating consent.
Most people I have met, want to be in consent with those they sexually explore with.
Most people are clear that they want to touch only when invited and never leave someone feeling violated and used.
They want to feel connected and joyful, free to explore and enjoy another’s body and pleasure.
But when pressed a little, most people whilst their intentions are solid, lack the skills that essentially make these great ideas a real and living practice.
Consent is about having the embodied skills and confidence to centre choice for ourselves and others.
It is about knowing what we want and being able to trust and honour ourselves enough to ask for it.
It is about making space for others desires without over riding our own limits.
It is about the dynamic and responsive communication between people that ensures no one is tolerating or going along because they think they should.
Theses skills are not taught in our high schools and most parents are trying to get their own heads around modern sexuality whilst feeling the compounding pressure of generational shame.
Policy makers and educators are challenging common misconceptions.
And legal systems are struggling to keep up.
We are all doing the best we can in the hope that consensual experiences are the predominate reality.
But in all this dialogue and intending, who is giving people the skills and places to safely practice and learn the essential elements that make consent a reality?
This is area I feel so passionate about.
Having worked over thirty years with many survivors of sexual violence and trauma, I believe deeply in the profound impact of preventative work.
I have had many conversations with well intentioned people, who unexpectedly have found themselves in the ambiguous hot water of not having consent before they have sexually engaged with another.
I wish, we all had the opportunity and support to learn the vital communication skills that support all of us to live and explore in consent with ourselves and others.
Will you join me in my passion for centring choice through learning the embodied skills of consent?
