Tending Desire


We met for tea, in the Japanese garden. There’s something deeply peaceful in the manicured beauty of the ponds and plants. In the Japanese garden beauty stands regal, majestic and graceful. Allowing you to appreciate it’s subtle exquisite perfection. Inviting you to recognise the abundant nurturing the gardener gives to creating harmony with nature. The ordered refinement of the garden soothes, calms, and revitalizes, allowing life energy to flow freely. An elegant dance.


We hadn’t seen each other in years. And we know each other little. We are friends of friends, meeting every now and then at the same events. Never speaking beyond the surface. Always wondering what lay beyond. Curious. Tempted. Imagining. We sat on a bench looking out at the serene landscape. We spoke of our lives. Where we had been, much less so than where we are. The past has very little relevance unless one keeps referring to it. We had both arrived at a point in our lives where we no longer needed to use the stories of the past to remind us of our journey.


We spoke of life, of love, of lack of lack. We spoke of the desires that fuel us now. The choice to be curious, playful, adventurous, spontaneous, responsible, present. To be engaged in the act of being alive. We spoke of the enormous possibilities that emerge when one lets go of should’s and must’s. When one lets go of blame and demands. When one has learned to nurture oneself and ceased expecting the outside to nourish the inside. He used his words, I used my words. We spoke until desire spoke for us.


Should we have sex?

Sure.

When?

Now.

Will it be a distraction?

From what?

True love?

Do you know what true love looks like?

I know what I imagine it looks like.

I know what others say it looks like.

I know I’ll know when it arrives.

Then stop worrying about distraction.

What are you looking for in this?

Exploring, observing, expanding my awareness. Playful passion and sharing the joys of pleasure.

Do you think it’ll get messy?

If we use whipped cream, it will.

Our friendship.

Only if we stop communicating openly.

Uninhibited.

Let’s see.


We left the Japanese garden. The well ordered beauty and majesty. We walked from the garden to the bedroom. The distance was filled with expectancy and uncertainty. Even after so many years, the imagination lights up.


Are you nervous?

Bit of performance anxiety.

Me, too.

Let’s just laugh through it then.

Deal.

I’ve wanted to have sex with you for years. Did you know?

I knew I wanted you. I’m glad it’s mutual.


Desire is not so well ordered as a garden.


As a young woman I never questioned my desire. I let it lead me, sometimes astray. As a married woman I often wanted more than he was prepared to give. I certainly wanted what he no longer bothered to give. As a newly single woman I sway between these two; following my increasing passion and overreaching his willingness. It’s a delicate balance.


Slowly, quickly, eagerly, tentatively our lips and hands removed the barriers between us. The thin veils we wear to keep ourselves apart from another. Each movement towards discovery increased the heartbeat and the remembrance of pleasure. Each deeper breath quietened the part of my mind that seeks to know the outcome. Each glimpse of eyes and neck and naked flesh sang threw my body, awakening the purest wish to be. Be here. Be now. Be alive. Imperfections forgotten. Gardener at rest.


The greatest part of the joy is in the discovery. The look on his face, the twinkle in his eye, the thrill of his touch. And the explosion of light and laughter when my heart bursts wide to embrace everything. Everything and nothing.


Perfect only exists in one’s ability to appreciate the moment. Every moment is perfect. We feel it or we resist the feeling. We see it or we close our eyes to it. We know it or we are searching for something that we think we know. Even if only for one delicious afternoon, we shared a perfect moment. I was reminded of how life leaps out from within and dances joyfully if we allow it to. When the gardener sleeps, nature moves in wild abandon. The gardener knows this, listens to natures voice, answers the call. And returns in the right time to lovingly tailor and trim, creating again a sculpture of harmony.


To what do I commit my body and soul? I commit to the dance between the wild and the elegant. I am the gardener of my own nature. When I create harmony by nurturing and loving myself, I am free to let life energy flow and wild abandon to have it’s place.


In the garden of my soul I dance in joyous harmony and the beauty curls out and embraces you. And you. And you.