#NoSextember Year 2

Tags

detox, diet, food, giving up sex, Greggs vegan sausage rolls, losing weight, purification, Vegan

A woman at work was talking about going out to eat with her friend, to be sociable, rather than about the food, and about how it was hard to get a table, and then super cheap because of the Government’s Eat out to help out scheme (where they pay half the bill Mon-Wed, I believe, to help the hospitality industry recover from lockdown.) The woman, a beautiful slim woman in her early thirties said: “My friend, she is this big (miming very overweight person), “She LOVES food; it’s like she lives only for food. Me I can take it or leave it, one toast two days, no problem.”

I felt a little envious. I am not like that, unfortunately…. I am a Taurean, a lover of food, with a lack of discipline, and sometimes hedonistic. My husband talks about how important it is to have control and not be addicted to anything, to be able to pick things up and put them down again. This only works if you can put them down again, which is why we are doing this programme. It’s as much to prove to ourselves that we can do it as well as to get a bit healthier physically.

It’s about attachment, practising what we preach and ultimately, it’s all part of the lifelong preparation for death, can you pick it up and put it down? Worldly pleasures, and ultimately, when the time comes, life itself? I’m misquoting George Harrison, but he said something like, You don’t want to have to come back because you left the cat out, or whatever. Or haven’t finished your book. The moment it comes, all that ceases to matter, and the focus is on letting go. When he was attacked by an intruder in his home he realised ‘This is it’ and had started letting go when Olivia hit the guy over the head with a lamp stand and saved him.

The programme:

No cigarettes, no alcohol.

No pointless food- crisps, biscuits, cake, teacakes, etc

We did this last year, a made up month of purification/self improvement, prompted in large part to my terrible addiction to Greggs Vegan Sausage Rolls. Regular readers may be surprised to know that I have completely conquered said addiction. Just before everywhere locked down, I was in my home town of Diss, Norfolk, UK, buying GVSRs with my husband, having first been to Grapetree to stock up on nuts, seeds, dried fruit, maca powder, cacao powder, hemp protein powder (like all people I am a mix of apparent contradictions.) The young lad at the counter and us were bemusedly talking about Corona virus, and the lad mentioned Greggs might close down. I was disbelieving, “Close down Greggs?” I said, “Never!”

Of course I was wrong, and spent much of the first part of lockdown grieving for my occasional trips to Daventry (my current home town) and Greggs for an Americano and a VSR (or two), or same on the way to Norfolk for our regular three- four hour drives to see friends and family. But when we did try them again, they tasted horribly salty and we ended up throwing them away! We overheard meat eaters saying the same about the meat ones. Was it a change of recipe? Or had our palettes just changed over lockdown? Anyway, for my body it’s a blessing.

However, we’ve managed to put on weight via plenty of other means: crisps, teacakes, and for me, alcohol, starting with my lockdown birthday and sliding into regular G&T or beer on the deck after work.  And cigarettes. I love being outside, but what to do with myself? The last couple of days after work I sat on the deck and had a glass of lemon water and a bowl of trail mix or a banana, and it really was okay.

Walk/yoga daily

I really slacked re exercise during this big period of writing/editing.

Increase cooking from scratch and Avoid eating so much processed food

With the boom in ready made vegan food it’s tempting to go to Aldi or Tesco and pick up something ready made, new potatoes and a pack of salad for ease, rather than, what can I make out of what we have, and the more fiddly things/things that require going out of the way to shop for get sidelined or forgotten.

No caffeine- no coffee, no fizzy drinks, decaf tea, herbal/fruit tea, lemon water, water only. (from around 10 Aug I went to just caffeine tea first thing then no more tea or coffee or fizzy drinks, to help with the headache of abrupt coffee/caffeine stopping.

“Can I do it if I drink decaff coffee?” Someone at work asked me. “Yes of course, it’s just a made up thing,” I said. No real rules, other than what you make up yourself.  We’ve focused on our biggest weaknesses- last year, GVSRs, this year, crisps, smoking, and lack of exercise. Some things are fixed for us- no cigarettes, no alcohol- some are more general not 100% e.g. I’m sure we’ll have the odd processed meal, and processed is a definition that can be strict or loose- we’re reasonably loose- but we know where we need to make improvements.

So if you want to join me, I’m giving you some notice- particularly useful for caffeine as if you go from four cups of coffee to none in my experience you get a banging headache for a half a day- just make up your own programme but we could do it together, and share a blog about it? Do I need to tell you I am not a doctor? And that stopping excessive alcohol consumption abruptly can be dangerous and you need to seek proper advice re coming off that.

Talking about sharing the blog- if anyone would like to write a guest post for this blog do get in touch via the contact box. Promote your blog/ book/ music; tell us your story, about the detail of your daily life, comment on something on the blog that interests you…

No sex- this is the one I don’t tell people at work when I’m telling them about my September purification month, and the one people find most weird. But I refer you back to the intro re attachment.

Thank you very much for reading!

Rachel

My husband is a pirate?

Tags

Creative writing, Daphne Du Maurier, Frenchman's Creek, How to write sex, Jordan Peterson, marriage, Music and Silence, Pirates, Pornography, Rose Tremain, Senses, Teaching creative writing, The Road Home, Types of men, Vampires, What women want, women's erotica, Women's sexual fantasies

‘So apparently these are the top five types of men women fantasise about,’ my husband said. We were in a Travelodge in London, where we stayed the night after I flew in from India.

‘That list doesn’t make sense,’ I said, ‘It’s a mixture of fictional and real.’ It was like when it was reported on mainstream news about the discovery of a new animal that was like half cat, half teddy bear. I remember my cousin commenting on social media, ‘Half cat, half teddy bear, you can’t mix fictional and real animals together, WTF!’

My husband is used to me being particular about how words are used and so he looked up the source and played me the original clip. It was Jordan Peterson, explaining how it was fairly straightforward to know what men liked when it came to pornography as they tend to be more visual, whereas women tend to like stories.

Apparently there had been some kind of an audit of search terms used by women accessing porn and this had led to the The List.
‘Women, cover your faces, this is so embarrassing,’ JP said, ‘The top five types of male entities women fantasise about are:

1 Vampire
2 Werewolf
3 Billionaire
4 Surgeon
5 Pirate

An analysis of Internet searches, now it made sense why it was such a strange list… Maybe it was the jet lag but I thought it would be funny to analyse my husband against the five types and see how ‘typical’ I was.

1. Definitely he has some qualities of the vampire about him, his kind of timeless nature; when I first met him I had the strong feeling that he had a very intact personality and would be exactly the same were he a homeless person or a millionaire. Also he is an observer of the world, he doesn’t really get caught up in all the things people get caught up in.
2. No
3. No
4. No
5. When we met he was living on a boat complete with pirate flag, and had no intention of settling down with a woman again. And yes, I did act like a cliché from a Harlequin romance and pursue him. But aside from all that, from childhood he has always been fascinated by outlaws such as the Hells Angels, not the violence, but the idea of living outside of normal society. So because of all that I have to say that yes, dear reader, I married a pirate!

Postscript: I used to write women’s erotica, and my old creative writing teacher brought me in to teach his class for one session, ‘How to write sex.’ Most of them were too shy to attend, but those that did were given a glass of red wine and a cream cake and asked to describe the experience using all the senses. We read a beautiful sex scene from The Road Home, by Rose Tremain (possibly she is the best writer I know of, I also recommend Music and Silence. Her descriptions are unforgettable.)

Lastly, I gave them a passage from Frenchman’s Creek (about a pirate) by Daphne Du Maurier, where the Lady goes off with the pirate and into his cabin… The scene, full of sexual tension, ends when he leans over and removes her ruby earring. I asked the class to continue writing where Daphne Du Maurier had stopped. So I guess it’s always been pirates!

Photo: the actual pirate flag from my husband’s boat

Thank you very much for reading

About the author
I am forty nine years old, married to John Hill, we live on a narrowboat in rural Northamptonshire, UK.
In March 2018 after selling our house and giving away 95% of our possessions we embarked on a year of slow travel in India and South East Asia.
I’m writing a personal/spiritual/travel memoir of that year. This is my personal blog.
Thank you for visiting
Follow me on Instagram thisisrachelhill

Matrix Revelations

Tags

ageing, Art, creativity, escape the matrix, middle age, sex

 

On Saturday morning I was the body for my husband giving a massage lesson (I know, it’s a hard life…)  As I listened to him patiently and professionally deliver a one hour comprehensive introduction lesson to a complete beginner, that was pitched just right, that created just the right atmosphere, and that in the time available, did everything it could; I reflected that wow, we know stuff.  We know stuff because we have been around for a while, learning stuff.  Because we are older.

I have spent such a lot of time thinking about what I don’t know and what I can’t do, that this weekend it was really nice to spend a bit of time thinking about what I do know and what I can do.   I used to think I wasn’t very well read because I compared myself with Oxbridge educated Guardian journalists.  But the other day I casually mentioned Rebecca (by Daphne Du Maurier, a book and films) in a big work meeting and no one had heard of it.  No one.  I was surprised; I didn’t think any less of the people, I just thought, okay, my reality is different to what I thought.

At work on Friday, someone was talking about starting yoga, and about how the teacher had talked to them about the chakras.  I found myself talking a bit about them, and sending a link to a page so she could learn more.  I don’t really do spiritual/chakra stuff anymore, but for a while I was pretty into it.  Focusing on the different chakra points, their colours, their corresponding mental, psychological and physical aspects, is a very powerful tool for self healing and development.  I used to think:  Root Chakra (red) safety, security; Sacral Chakra (orange) drives, creativity; Solar Plexus Chakra (yellow) emotions; Heart Chakra (green) love; Throat Chakra (blue) self expression, communication with myself and others; Third Eye Chakra (indigo) direction and seeing my path; Crown Chakra (violet white) connection with above.

So I thought, be proud of what you know, not sad re getting old.

Of course, there are loads of things I don’t know, loads of things I haven’t learned, loads of things I have refused to learn, e.g. DIY and reverse parking.   I feel totally okay about that.  The longer you live the more things you find out about or hear about, so the list of things you don’t know how to do keeps on growing, even as you keep learning, because you can’t learn how to do everything you come across.  You have to specialise.  (Rather than feel bad about the things you don’t know about.)  Knowing things, being good at things, takes time, energy and devotion.  (I want to learn a bit of Hindi.  So far I know about 5 words, and that’s only if I keep looking at them every day.)

I thought about what’s good about getting older, which is actually what’s good about me as I get older.  And as I am older, I could just simplify that to say:  What’s good about me.  (Making this list was nice.  I recommend it as an exercise in compassion and a little pick me up!):

What’s good about me

I have no inhibitions about my body

Yesterday I stripped off in front of someone I have only just met and lay on the massage table feeling fine with nothing on except my knickers.

I am sexually liberated 

I had kind of a thing recently with a woman, and we can see each other and it is all fine, no issues.

I can say what I want in bed.

(in both senses of the meaning)

Sex just keeps on getting better and better.

That’s what no one tells twenty somethings.  If you are in a loving communicating relationship, sex just keeps on getting better and better, in new and surprising ways!

I know:  your art is the most important thing

More important than alcohol, socialising, FOMO, peer pressure, or any other ephemeral distractions.  Your art is what makes you you.  By honouring your art, you honour yourself.  By spending time with your art, you spend time with yourself.  By getting to know your art you get to know yourself.

I understand:  ‘The matrix’ is really just your own thoughts limiting you  

Re bands and art, you have to want it, and you have to stick with it, for ever if need be, enjoying the process not just aiming for the rewards of fame etc.  If you are in a band you either all have to want it, or you have to be single minded enough to drive it yourself with interchangeable musicians.

It is a myth that it is too hard to make it.  Like Charlie Higson said about writing, there’s no magic trick or secret doorway, if you are good you will be picked up.  There’s so few people who can stick at anything, look at new year’s resolutions, diets, exercise regimes.  All you have to do is stick at it, and want it, want it enough to stick at it (1% inspiration, 99% perspiration), despite all the matrix pressure to ‘be realistic’, etc etc.

In fact the only thing people can stick at is what the matrix wants them to stick at, the everyday drudgery, the oh hi, another day another dollar, oh well, maybe I will win the lottery, soon be the weekend, I have a holiday to to look forward to, or oh look a charity jeans day or a Christmas jumper day, just enough to make it seem not too bad and everyone’s doing it so it must be okay right?

And every now and again they’ll scare you, a round of redundancies, or a crisis that causes stress so you take the whole thing even more seriously, you stay late, you give up the hobby class and exercise routine, or worse you never eat or sleep properly, you’re always at work, always unhealthy…  and for what, not for personal freedom that’s for sure.

So the lesson is:  Look at what the herd is doing and do the opposite.  Look at what the herd believes and believe the opposite.  As Jon Rappoport says, in this consensus reality we live in, the limits we see there aren’t real.  I can be a writer.  I am a writer.  Or rather, I am a ………  as yet to be labelled……..  and I document it on my blog.  But let’s get away from labels altogether.  If we aren’t labelling, if we aren’t preoccupied with what people do for a living (the herd again), then we don’t need to say anything.  I can just say, in answer to  what do you do, I am a human, I live.  (And I document it on my blog)

I have set up an Instagram account for when I am away followingthebrownrabbit

 

Thank you very much for reading.

See yourself as beautiful (Warning: sexually explicit)

Tags

healing, love, marriage, sex

I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget

I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat

(Regina Spektor)

We went a week without having sex after getting back from Marrakech.  The sex we had in Marrakech seemed to be some kind of unlock, releasing things/me.  It felt like healing had occurred.  When we had sex again my husband took me to another dimension.  It was as if I had been waiting, searching, all through the intervening years since the first sexual encounter, until now.  I feel like I finally worked out how my body works.  Or rather, like I finally remembered how it works.

Because I used to know, and then I forgot.  It became layered under peer pressure (actually from my female peers this was often anti not pro sex), my mother saying about me:  where is she, whoring around again.  Relationships, unrequited love.  There was no place, no mirror I could find that supported or reflected my own particular brand of feminism.

Anyway, this is a personal not a political blog so back to the other night, in bed with my husband:  He took me to another dimension.  I feel like I’m in a special place, I whispered.  And there we were, both tripped into somewhere else.  I often go somewhere else during sex but I often go there by myself:  drifting in and out of tried and tested fantasies that help me relax enough to come.  Like I’m avoiding just being  present.  But that night, I thought to myself:  here you are, having sex WITH MY HUSBAND.

WITH MY HUSBAND.  I realised, of course, we are designed so perfectly.  He puts his penis into my vagina, it touches me just there and I…  Yes, I come, I come.  Oh my God, I came and came, without stopping, one orgasm rolled into another, began as the previous one was ending, as if the sensation of one ending was enough to trigger the next one.  And even just laying there afterwards, the slightest brush, the slightest movement, the slightest thought started it all off again.

FYI we weren’t doing anything unusual, we were in the missionary position which is good for sensation and touching the right spots inside.  But like everything, sex is really a mind game.

Looking in the bathroom mirror I saw myself as beautiful.  For a few precious moments I understood why he doesn’t like me wearing any make up on my face.   He wants to see me.

 

 

 

How to not have sex with your husband

Tags

awareness, erotica, love, marriage, relationships

 

Those of you that have read previous blogs will be aware that my husband and I have been experimenting with tearing ourselves away from wild and crazy sex and practising abstinence, karezza, or at least some measure of control.

Up until now this has largely taken the form of imposing rules on ourselves, not only about when and how much to have sex and orgasms, but also rules around behaviour, in order to ‘make it easier’.

Us being us, these rules fluctuate week to week and are frequently broken, but nonetheless, we have given it a go.  Things like no groping each other, no kissing, no spoon cuddling in bed, no getting naked, no looking at each other ‘like that’.

And then at the prescribed time, usually the weekend, we ‘switch it on’ or set ourselves free and turn, briefly, into sex maniacs again for 48 hours.  Well sometimes we do, sometimes we might be more restrained than that, but it is basically on or off.

And even though one of ‘our songs ‘ is called All Or Nothing, this approach didn’t actually work all that well for us.

Although we talked about it a lot, it wasn’t until we did things differently that we realised why, and more importantly, what might help it work in the future.

So the other night, we got into bed, it was the weekend but one of us had floated the idea of that not necessarily meaning we had to have sex, so neither of us were sure, although both were prepared to do it if the other one wanted to.  We ended up having a kiss and a cuddle and falling into a deep and refreshing sleep.

The next morning we woke up, kissed, cuddled and then talked:  my husband said, I feel like I am on the edge of a precipice.  I said, perhaps we should follow the American virgins* and only do it if we are really sure.  We also reflected on how nice it was, and how satisfying, to be intimate and affectionate, without having sex.  I realised then what I hadn’t liked about the ‘All Or Nothing’ approach:  the having to switch off and on my sexuality and my affection.  I want to be able to be warm and affectionate and to feel sexy and attractive, according to the mood and colour of the present moment, not the day on the calendar.  I think we can do this, and that a more natural approach will work better for us.

*This is in no way meant to offend any Americans, it was just me referring to True Love Waits and those kinds of movements, which we don’t really have, or don’t have to such an extent, in the UK.