Last night we converged on Watertown for a potluck salon. What makes a salon a salon rather than a dinner party is that we talk about meaningful things. Last night we came together specifically to talk about sex.
There are so many all-pervasive subtleties in being a man or a woman (never mind all the territory in between), and it’s so rare that we get a chance to talk about our experience of being in a gendered body–the nitty gritty truth of it. But the beauty of the Shambhala path it’s kind of an ongoing social experiment.
We are friends on a journey together, cultivating trust in the fact that we have nothing to lose in being vulnerable. Discomfort is a valued currency. The way we talk to each other is so sane and naked it would terrify most people.
We meditate and share food together to prepare the ground for embarrassing admissions, raw agitation, heartbreak. We toast and cry and laugh and embrace. We listen closely and share a big vision.
That human beings are good.