Contentment

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

  236 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL was to develop our capacity for love and our sense of solidarity and responsibility. Is this training to go for nothing in heaven, or is this present life the real prepa- ration forthe kind oflife we are to live there, and the basis for promotion and growth? If the future life is to be the consummation of all that is good anddivine here, it mustoffer fellowship with God and man. This is the point to be insisted on in our popular teaching, and not the painlessness and the eternal rest. 9. And how about labour and service? Is not our heaven too much a heaven of idleness? It looks as if it had beenconceived by oppressed and exploited people who regarded labour as a curse and wanted a rest more than anything else. The social gospel wants to see all men onearth at productive work, but none doing too much of it It carries that expectation into the idea of heaven. Dr. William N. Clarke, who was amost loving heart andhad no child of his own, makes the point in his "Outline of Christian Theology" (pp. 4i9~ 2 ) that athird part of humanity dies in childhood, with undeveloped personality. "This significant fact has never yet been admitted to the popular thought ofthe future life, or exerted its due influence in theology." If these youthful spirits are to grow and develop, they must live a life of free and responsible action. If the children in heaven need education and care, " oppor- tunities of usefulness and help must open in inexhaustible abundance to those who are farther advanced in holy experience, and the heavenly life must be intensely active and interesting." Dr. Clarke thought thiswas " a vast enrichment of our ideas of the other world."

• From The Fermata (1994)

  The waiter appeared shortly after with our entrees. “The plates are very hot,” he said importantly, holding them with a cloth. We had been gone for no more than five minutes; nobody had missed us. Joyce and I talked for another hour, and we drank some more and then had some coffee, and then I walked her home and kissed her good-night at her door. The Fermata 18 M Y FINGER-SNAPPING PHASE IS NOW OVER, MY FOLD- POWERS are currently gone. I assume I’ll get them back sooner or later, but I’m never sure. What happened, as far as I can piece it together, is that one night, when Joyce and I were having sex, I unknowingly transferred all my fermational proficiencies to her . I had jokingly trotted out the penis pump and the Goddess Athena vibrator with the clit-stimulating fork-flamed torch of wisdom and told her that I’d bought them with her in mind, before we’d started going out. “I’m not a big vibrator person,” Joyce warned. But she did pump enthusiastically away at my penis with the penis pump, sucking it up into the clear plastic vacuum chamber and watching its veins pop out. When my penis had had more than enough of that treatment, I pulled it out and substituted the Athena vibrator in its place. Joyce and I then pumped the vibrator with the penis pump for a while, sucking it in as far as it would go. And finally, after some cajoling, Joyce turned on the Athena vibrator and slipped it inside herself. The fork-flamed torch of wisdom took her polytheistic clit to new heights. But what we didn’t realize at the time was that the penis pump had somehow sucked all of my temporal powers out of me. Then, when the Athena vibrator went into the penis pump, the same powers were apparently transferred to it, and when the Athena vibrator muttered its way deep into Joyce, the powers entered her. As a result, the next time I snapped my fingers, nothing at all happened—or rather, everything kept on happening. But the next time Joyce clicked on the switch of her Athena vibrator, time dutifully halted for her. I find I don’t miss the Fold too terribly much at present. My self-discipline has improved. I’m still temping, but I’ve begun going over some of the notes for my master’s thesis. (It’s a history of Dover Books.) Joyce, meanwhile, is having a good time.

• From Wild (2012)

  It was all unknown to me then, as I sat on that white bench on the day I finished my hike. Everything except the fact that I didn’t have to know. That it was enough to trust that what I’d done was true. To understand its meaning without yet being able to say precisely what it was, like all those lines from The Dream of a Common Language that had run through my nights and days. To believe that I didn’t need to reach with my bare hands anymore. To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. That it was everything. It was my life—like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be. ACKNOWLEDGMENTSMiigwech is an Ojibwe word I often heard growing up in northern Minnesota, and I feel compelled to use it here. It means thank you, but more—its meaning imbued with humility as well as gratitude. That’s how I feel when I think about trying to thank all of the people who helped me make this book: humbled as well as grateful. It is to my husband, Brian Lindstrom, that I owe my deepest miigwech, for he has loved me beyond measure, in both my writing and my life. Thank you, Brian. I’m indebted to the Oregon Arts Commission, the Regional Arts and Culture Council, and Literary Arts for providing me with funding and support while I wrote this book and also throughout my career; to Greg Netzer and Larry Colton of the Wordstock Festival for always inviting me to the show; and to the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and the Sewanee Writers’ Conference for giving me meaningful support along the way. I wrote most of this book while sitting at my dining room table, but crucial chapters were written away from home. I’m grateful to Soapstone for the residencies they provided me, and especially to Ruth Gundle, the former director of Soapstone, who was particularly generous to me in the early stages of this book. A profound thank you to Sally and Con Fitzgerald, who hosted me so graciously while I wrote the final chapters of Wild in their beautiful, silent “wee house” in Oregon’s Warner Valley. Thanks also to the incomparable Jane O’Keefe, who made my time in the Warner Valley possible, and both loaned me her car and did my grocery shopping. Thank you to my agent, Janet Silver, and also to her colleagues at the Zachary Shuster Harmsworth Agency. Janet, you are my friend, champion, and literary kindred spirit. I will always be grateful to you for your support, smarts, and love.

• From The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness (2004)

  I walked into the kitchen one afternoon to find Herbert and two philosophers sitting solemnly in front of Mariella’s dishwasher, which one of them had tried to repair, contemplating it with the same kind of rapt attention as I had bestowed upon the moon the night before. “It has just completed its second cycle,” Herbert informed me with wonder in his voice. That was also the year when Charlie arrived one afternoon with a grand piano, which he had picked up cheap. The entire household had turned out to propel the piano up the steep winding path on a rolling sequence of broom handles, until we managed to manhandle it into the hall. For the rest of his visit, Charlie and Jenifer played pieces for two pianos together—he flamboyant on the grand, she lean, intense, and dry on the old upright—calling encouragement to each other above the Mozart and Beethoven. Exotic as my life with the Harts often was and different from anything I had ever known before, there was much that was reassuringly familiar. Jenifer’s frugality made her as stringent about economy as any of my former superiors. We were not allowed to vacuum the carpets or wash our sheets too frequently, lest we wear them out. She was adamantly opposed to the newly repaired dishwasher—“a ludicrous waste of water!”—and there were constant arguments about the electric fire in the drawing room, a miserable little contraption, which should probably have been banned for safety reasons rather than for the pathetic amount of power that it splutteringly consumed on its three ancient bars. “You had the fire on this morning, Herbert, just because it was a little chilly! There is absolutely no need for such waste! If you want a fire, there’s plenty of wood and—” “The same discussion”—Herbert had beamed around the table, quite unabashed—“is probably going on at this moment in boardinghouses in Worthing.” And so, in a way, I felt quite at home. Asceticism was certainly central to the whole Lamledra experience. Every morning after breakfast, the guests were frog-marched by Jenifer with spades and matchets to do battle with the ubiquitous nettles and thistles in the grounds. Nobody was excused from this forced labor, unless they had a physical disability or an article to write. “There goes the chain gang!” Herbert would murmur gleefully as he left the breakfast table for his room, resolutely refusing to take part. I too was exempt from the corvée, since I had housework to do.

• From Worried about Everything Because I Pray about Nothing (2022)

  If He nudges you to make a change in some area, ask for His help and then do it. If He challenges you to take a risk, obey in faith. You can’t expect God to continue speaking to you if you’re ignoring the things He’s already said. Healthy relationships don’t work that way. You won’t always get it right—the listening or the obeying. None of us does. But if your heart is to hear and obey God, He will honor that. That’s the essence of prayer, after all: our hearts drawing closer to God’s heart. Hearing from God is a learning process. It’s a life-long journey. And it’s a wonderful one, full of surprises and treasures and hidden delight. Get to know God. Listen. He is speaking. Start and end with prayerIn this hectic, random, noisy life, peace is not an impossible dream. It’s a promise. It’s a gift from God, one we both long for and desperately need. I’m not talking about the peace that comes from having everything figured out and under control, but the peace that descends from heaven itself. The peace of God that passes understanding. The peace we experience when we cast our cares upon the one who cares for us. It’s a peace that starts and ends with prayer. Are you worried about everything because you pray about nothing? It’s time to flip the script. Be worried for nothing because you pray about everything . That’s the lifestyle of peace and joy that God is calling you into through prayer. It’s your future as a child of God. Jesus says, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me” (Revelation 3:20). Sometimes people use that verse to describe salvation, but the words were actually written to believers. Jesus wants to be with us. Not as a judge putting us on trial, or a boss doing an employee review, or an emperor berating a servant. As a friend . Jesus wants to stroll through the door of our hearts, sit down next to us with the drink of His choice, and just hang out. He wants to hear what’s on our hearts and minds. He wants us to express what is worrying us or inspiring us or challenging us. And He wants to share with us the peace, perspective, and power of God. I know we’ve just spent a couple hundred pages doing a deep dive into the intricacies of prayer, but the bottom line is that prayer is not hard. It’s natural. It flows unforced from authentic relationship. You can’t really “do it wrong,” and you can’t be “bad at it.”

• From The Confessions of Saint Augustine (354)

  We have also examined what Thou willedst to be shadowed forth, whether by the creation, or the relation of things in such an order. And we have seen, that things singly are good, and together very good, in Thy Word, in Thy Only-Begotten, both heaven and earth, the Head and the body of the Church, in Thy predestination before all times, without morning and evening. But when Thou begannest to execute in time the things predestinated, to the end Thou mightest reveal hidden things, and rectify our disorders; for our sins hung over us, and we had sunk into the dark deep; and Thy good Spirit was borne over us, to help us in due season; and Thou didst justify the ungodly, and dividest them from the wicked; and Thou madest the firmament of authority of Thy Book between those placed above, who were to he docile unto Thee, and those under, who were to be subject to them: and Thou gatheredst together the society of unbelievers into one conspiracy, that the zeal of the faithful might appear, and they might bring forth works of mercy, even distributing to the poor their earthly riches, to obtain heavenly. And after this didst Thou kindle certain lights in the firmament, Thy Holy ones, having the word of life; and shining with an eminent authority set on high through spiritual gifts; after that again, for the initiation of the unbelieving Gentiles, didst Thou out of corporeal matter produce the Sacraments, and visible miracles, and forms of words according to the firmament of Thy Book, by which the faithful should be blessed and multiplied. Next didst Thou form the living soul of the faithful, through affections well ordered by the vigour of continency: and after that, the mind subjected to Thee alone and needing to imitate no human authority, hast Thou renewed after Thy image and likeness; and didst subject its rational actions to the excellency of the understanding, as the woman to the man; and to all Offices of Thy Ministry, necessary for the perfecting of the faithful in this life, Thou willedst, that for their temporal uses, good things, fruitful to themselves in time to come, be given by the same faithful. All these we see, and they are very good, because Thou seest them in us, Who hast given unto us Thy Spirit, by which we might see them, and in them love Thee. O Lord God, give peace unto us: (for Thou hast given us all things;) the peace of rest, the peace of the Sabbath, which hath no evening. For all this most goodly array of things very good, having finished their courses, is to pass away, for in them there was morning and evening.

• From The Fermata (1994)

  I still have it; I mean to read it someday. Many, most of my fold-adventures are like that—inconclusive; wastes of time by some standards. But I like when my little schemes don’t really work out—I still feel that I have created some bond between myself and the woman with whom I have decided to meanwhile away the time. The woman in black will eventually forget about the writing I did for her at the top of the page of Paradise Postponed , since it is difficult to retain the active memory of minor incidents which are in a small way inexplicable and random-seeming, and yet for a short time that evening, for a few hours, she might possibly have entertained herself by speculating about what sort of person would browse Waterstone’s writing apostrophes of smut in modern English novels. She might have brought it up that weekend at a dinner party—maybe someone was talking about the history of the Waterstone’s building and she would be reminded of the oddity I had given her and start to tell the story and realize that she would be slightly embarrassed to repeat in company what I had written, and then someone else at the table, a catty gay man, would say, “Oh, come on, Pauline, you can’t bring us this far and not finish us off, we’re grown-ups after all,” and she would repeat to the dinner party, in her own thoughtful, even voice, surprising herself that she did in fact remember the text, “Well, I believe that it said, ‘I need to pop my nuts on a pair of sexy little tits right now.’ Exclamation point.” And there would be whooplets of mock-shocked mirth. All because of me, all because of me. The Fermata 7 L ET US, THOUGH, BRIEFLY RETURN TO THE TIME I WAS OUTSIDE on the beach towel in the yard, since I did go on to imagine writing more than mere expostulations in paperbacks that morning, and the manner in which events developed as a result of my imaginings is quite typical of my Fold-life. (Maybe interlife would be a good word for the portion of my life I spend between-times, in the Fold.) I turned over a number of distinct thoughts that morning, but mainly I thought of writing a brief amateur sex story of my own and planting it where a woman might find it. I envisioned becoming a writer of private erotica—a rotter, a secret member of the literoti. Specifically I envisioned dashing off something about a woman on a ridem lawn-mower that I would print out, staple at the corner, and put in a plastic food-storage bag with a twist-tie closure and bury in the colder, unsiftable sand just below where some warm-skinned sunbathing woman was idly digging as she lay face-down on her towel on a beach somewhere.

• From The Fermata (1994)

  It was one of the first times I had gone out to lie in the sun that year; it was a clean, bud-popping blueout of a temperate-zone Boston weekday. A hundred very small hippopotamus-shaped clouds were on the march overhead, and though I like and respect a rigorously cloud-free morning as much as anyone—when the only possible seconds of shade you can expect out on your towel are those strangely paranormal ex-machinas when a high cruising bird (a gull on its way to inland Dumpsters) or an almost inaudible airplane comes momentarily between your eyelids and the sun, raising your consciousness of the conical geometry of umbral coincidence—given that there were all these evenly spooned-out clouds, regularly dispensing an ideal interval of coolness every five minutes or so, during which the trees regained their green depth and I had the opportunity to appreciate the heretofore-unnoticed sweat on my stomach, and given that I was nothing but a temp and lacked for the time being the one thing that kept my pride intact, which was my fermational gift, I was nonetheless quite happy with what the day had to offer. I invariably feel lucid and pleased with life after a shower anyway (there is an illusion of mental acuity that accompanies a thoroughly moistened and rejuvenated sinus-system and the sensation of wet hair-ends on the base of the neck), but seldom more pleased with life than when I can go directly from the tiley shower out to a clean warm sunlit beach towel on the lawn. I took off my watch and my glasses and set them on the edge of the towel, next to the Fieldcrest label; I took off my T-shirt and laid it gently over the portable phone, lying nestled in the grass, to keep it from overheating.

• From Real Sex for Real Women (2008)

  In the tubMaking love in the bathroom gives you plenty of privacy, unlike some other locations around your home, and slipping into a hot bath may be just the relaxing setting you are searching for. Your skin will feel sexily clean. Tubs come in different shapes and sizes, so beware of causing a flood if yours is filled to the brim and you both get in at the same time. Then you can have the discussion about who gets the “faucet end.” Of course, if you are lucky enough to own a circular or larger-than-average bath, you may not experience this problem. Run the water nice and warm, and add a little of your favorite pampering bubble bath or foam. Arrange some seductive lighting around the room—tea candles, perhaps—then light some aromatherapy burners for a complete sensory experience. [image file=image_rsrc3CX.jpg] Standing room onlyThis is a great position if you and your man like spicing up doing the dishes but aren’t in the mood for a workout. Lean against the countertop as your partner stands behind to enter you. This creates the sensation of him holding you. Push your bottom out, then slowly swivel and gyrate your hips against his pelvis as he penetrates. If you are feeling more energetic, you can turn around and plant your bottom on the edge of the kitchen counter. You don’t need to remove all your clothes, so it’s great for a quickie before your dinner guests arrive. If your sink is in front of a window, don’t forget to smile sweetly at your neighbors or passers-by as you reach orgasm. [image file=image_rsrc3CY.jpg] Very Erotic, Non-insertive Sex (VENIS)There is nothing more intimate than a night of very erotic, noninsertive sex, casually referred to as VENIS. VENIS requires that you get creative with your lovemaking and substitute other erotic activities for penetration. Try naked back rubs, wrestling, bathing or eating food off each other, or sharing fantasies. Include oral and manual sex for added sensual contact. Be a glutton and try everything in one night, or have a weekend of VENIS love. VENIS was created to remind couples that sex should be fun, playful, and intimacy-enhancing. You don’t need to have an orgasm, and a session of VENIS will help you and your man luxuriate in each other’s touch without feeling too rushed or goal-oriented. Bare massageTurn up the heat, strip off, and straddle him. Use a little warmed oil to massage his back and buttocks—he will love being rubbed by you, and the feeling of your naked genitals on the backs of his thighs.

• From Real Sex for Real Women (2008)

  You might be in the mood for sex but find your changing shape means your favorite position is uncomfortable. Most couples find that side-by-side positions are perfect since they keep the weight off the woman’s belly and allow her to control the thrusting. Woman-on-top positions are also comfortable and sexy—particularly if your partner is turned on by your peach-or pear-shaped belly. The only positions to avoid are ones that put you flat on your back, as this decreases your blood circulation and poses a risk to your baby. Your baby may sometimes respond to your orgasm by waking up and kicking, or be lulled to sleep by the motions of your lovemaking. Both reactions are normal but—as always—report any significant or prolonged changes in your baby’s activity to your doctor or midwife promptly. As D-day approaches, take advantage of your time alone before the little bundle arrives. You might not have the opportunity—or energy—for spontaneous sex for quite some time. [image file=image_rsrc3DW.jpg] Sex During MenopauseMen and women sometimes struggle to maintain a happy, healthy sex life during the so-called “change of life.” Menopause and andropause (male menopause) can disrupt your hormones, mood, libido, and relationship—changes for which many couples are not prepared. Physical changes often coincide with emotional upheavals, such as your children leaving home, retirement, and concerns about aging, adding to your burden. However, surviving this difficult time with your sex life strong and intact is possible. Menopausal symptomsThe menopause is the natural stopping of a woman’s monthly periods. The drop in hormones that comes with it brings many unpleasant symptoms—hot flashes, insomnia, weight gain, mood swings, and vaginal dryness, to name just a few—which can create low libido and negatively affect a women’s sexual enjoyment. Fortunately, all of these symptoms can be treated. Simple home remediesThe depletion of estrogen can throw your sleeping habits out of whack, and you will feel the effects of it in all areas of your life, including your sex life. To overcome this, practice good nocturnal habits. Go to bed at the same time every night and wake at the same time every morning, including on the weekends. This keeps your body’s natural rhythm intact. Try herbal remedies such as chamomile tea before bed, or spraying lavender water on your pillow at night. More than 75 percent of women suffer from hot flashes during menopause. Hot flashes occur when a dip in estrogen levels causes stellate ganglion nerves—the part of the brain responsible for body temperature regulation—to work overtime. Although there is no cure, they can be treated with a few behavioral remedies, which will help you get back in the mood for sex.

• From Real Sex for Real Women (2008)

  AndropauseMen often suffer a depletion of testosterone as they age, which causes symptoms such as low energy, insomnia, erectile dysfunction, weight gain, and low libido. Treatments for andropause usually include Testosterone Replacement Therapy (TRT) in the form of injections, pills, or creams to stabilize testosterone levels. TRT is a viable treatment for most men, but is unsuitable for those with prostrate cancer, because the testosterone may cause the cancer to spread or grow. If your partner is suffering mainly from erectile dysfunction, prescription drugs can help improve blood flow to the genitals and give him stronger erections. However, men with heart conditions or those taking nitrates should not take certain medications. Encourage your partner to talk through his options with a doctor to find the best treatment for his symptoms. Sex During Later LifeJust because you and your partner are older doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a rich and rewarding sex life. Older lovers don’t have the same sex worries as younger couples, such as pregnancy, work pressure, and childcare. Use this time to rediscover the adventure in your sex life. Spend your days having sex where and how you want it. Hold hands in the kitchen, run naked through the house, and enjoy the cool breeze while making love in the garden. Think of it as a new beginning for your relationship. New freedomsDespite what you might think to the contrary, you are never too old for sex. Being older has its advantages. You have more time and more patience. In fact, more than 50 percent of people aged 65–74 are still sexually active, while 25 percent of people aged 75–85 still enjoy sexual activity. There is really is no such thing as being too old—as long as your body is on board. Sex after your 60th birthday can be liberating. For one thing, unwanted pregnancy is no longer an issue. For another, most men and women at that age have reached an acceptance of their bodies that younger men and women cannot relate to. Life lessons bring the overall realization that wrinkles, curves, and cellulite are part of the beauty of sex, helping to create a love life that is refreshingly free of body-image woes. Stay sexyJust because you are older doesn’t mean you cannot look and feel sexy. Invest in sensual lingerie in flattering colors and in materials such as silk or satin that feel good against your skin. Treat yourself and your partner to regular massage and spa appointments—both of these activities improve your overall feeling of health and well-being, and improve blood flow and sexual desire. Weekends away and vacations alone with your partner also keep your relationship feeling special. Warm climates, comfortable hotel rooms, and a change of scene can do wonders for helping you to reconnect with each other and get back in the mood for sex.

• From Real Sex for Real Women (2008)

  [image file=image_rsrc39W.jpg] Dedicated “us” time If you lead a hectic life, make the effort to spend a little time each day connecting with your partner. Even if you’re not in the mood for sex, lie down and cuddle or have a light-hearted, teasing conversation. Don’t fall into the trap of talking about work or domestic issues. Section 2: The Sex ConnectionKnow your Body Know your Mind Know your Relationship [image file=image_rsrc39X.jpg] Chapter 2: Know your BodyAnatomy and Sexual Response Female Anatomy Male Anatomy Connecting with your Body Masturbation for Women Masturbation for Men To get in tune with your sexuality, you first need to connect with your body and appreciate the beauty of your womanhood, inside and out. Embracing your unique physical attributes, your shape and size, is vital for truly uninhibited and abandoned sex. Fears and anxieties about your body will only hold you back. A clear understanding of how your sexual responses work will help, and a positive genital self-image will enhance your love life. Self-knowledge and effective techniques for self-pleasure will also teach you what stimulation you need from your sex life, and how to get it. [image file=image_rsrc39Y.jpg] Anatomy and Sexual ResponseWhen tuning in to your sexuality, it is helpful to familiarize yourself with your genitals and their appearance. Begin by looking at them straight on. This might sound a bit intimidating, but is actually a very sexy thing to do—your genitals are a beautiful and natural part of your sexuality. The first step to a healthy sex life is a good anatomy lesson: get to know the dimensions of your genitals, and explore how different areas respond to stimulation. Knowledge is power, so let us apply that power to sex. Feel good about yourselfThe idea of loving your genitals might sound silly, but if you are insecure about them, you will have a hard time embracing your sexuality and being uninhibited in the bedroom. Men and women alike may suffer from genital self-esteem issues, but the good news is that dealing with these issues will vastly improve your sex life. A woman who feels good about her genitals is six times more likely to be sexually satisfied than a woman who does not—if you don’t like your own genitals, chances are you won’t be able to let go and enjoy yourself when your partner is up close and personal with them. Men also experience anxieties about their penises, worrying that they might be too small, too big, or too curved. A man has a strong emotional connection to his penis, so when he is comfortable with the way it looks and feels, he is more likely to be relaxed during sex.

• From Real Sex for Real Women (2008)

  [image file=image_rsrc3C2.jpg] SidewaysThe Kama Sutra recommends this position for newlyweds who are just learning about lovemaking, probably because it is an easy, comfortable position, which enhances intimacy and romance. Not only is the side-by-side position very bonding, it is perfect for those sleepy-time or just-woken-up, must-have-sex-now moments. If you are lying in the classic spoon position—with your body facing away from your partner—it is an excellent position for clitoral stimulation. Turn and lie face to face, and you can maintain eye contact with your lover and still receive clitoral pleasure from the friction between your bodies. Sideways positions also keep your vaginal entrance tight. Sweet snuggleA perfect position for sleepy-time bonding or those early-morning encounters, all that spoon-shaped sex requires is an arched back from you and some gentle thrusts from him. [image file=image_rsrc3C3.jpg] Top dogIn this sexy position, your man will enjoy the excitement of a doggy-style position while you recline on your side. Spread your legs slightly to allow your partner to enter you. This will make your vagina feel tight. Your lover kneels or reclines behind you, allowing the friction from his penis to stimulate your clitoris. Enjoy watching your partner’s body and face as you head toward climax. He can help you along by caressing your breasts and body. Enjoy the sense of intimacy and closeness that this position creates. [image file=image_rsrc3C4.jpg] Deep-sea diverThis is a restful position that also gives you deep vaginal penetration. To get into this sexy move, lie on your side with your head resting on your bent arm. Your man lies perpendicular to you, while turning sideways to enter you. In essence, he will be lying between your legs while using his pelvis to thrust deeply and stimulate your cervix. Shallower thrusts will build up pressure on your G-spot. He can place his arms on the bed or your back to help him balance. In this position, you can reach down to stimulate your clitoris. You can also reach between your legs to caress your man’s inner thigh and gently massage his testicles and perineum—truly orgasmic. [image file=image_rsrc3C5.jpg] Gimme a “V”Lie sideways, with both of your legs stretched out. Your man enters you from behind. This position makes your vagina tight (but keep your legs close together for a tighter fit). Penetration will feel intense for both of you. He will also be able to kiss your neck and shoulders, and caress your breasts and torso. [image file=image_rsrc3C6.jpg] The wrapThis is a position for when you want to snuggle up, kiss deeply, and enjoy being close. Lie on your sides, facing each other. His pelvis should be slightly angled in the direction he is facing. Wrap your arms and legs around his body, and slowly angle yourself onto his penis. Move your pelvis in tighter to enjoy deep penetration. The proximity of bodies will create friction on your clitoris, while you and your man can caress each other to climax.

• From The Chronology of Water (2011)

  Sitting in my sister’s living room on her brown leather couch that smelled vaguely of cat piss, we stared at the motherbox between us. She said, “You wanna open it?” “Sure,” I said. Then I examined the edges more closely, and I jammed my fingernails into the joints, and saw that there wasn’t a clear way to do it. So I said, “Do you have a knife?” My sister left the room, went into the kitchen, and came back with a butter knife. I stared at it in her hand. Then I took it and tried to pry my box of mother open. No luck. “You have a flathead screwdriver?” I said. “I think so,” she said, and went off in the direction of her garage. “And a hammer,” I yelled after her. I put the box on the living room floor. My sister knelt next to me. “Hold the bottom of it,” I said. “Don’t hit me with the hammer,” she said. “Move your head,” I said. I placed the flathead screwdriver at the line where the box edges joined, and then I whacked it with the hammer. The box shot across their hardwood floor. “Look at it go!” Came out of my mouth before I could stop it. Then we both nearly died laughing, rolling on the floor like kids. I swear to god we tried everything to get that goddamn motherbox open. At one point I even dropped it from the roof of her deck hoping it would sort of break open, but no. I briefly considered running over it with the car. There was no way into the motherbox of ash. After I left, my sister told me she buried it in her backyard, but I visited her a month later and saw it in the back of her mini-coop with all her life shit and dog hair and car crap. I never confronted her about the lie. But I never saw the box again after that, either. It could be in the ground in her backyard. Or it could be someplace else. I can still see my mother sitting in her car as I’d come out of swim practice as a kid. The heater running. Whatever else she was, she was there. Morning. I’m sitting in my car waiting for them to unlock the doors of the swimming pool. They open, and I enter. I shed my clothes. The water is the color of my eyes. The chlorine smell is more familiar than anything I have ever known. When I dive in, all sound, all weight, all thought leaves. I am a body in water. Again. Mother, rest. I am home. Wisdom is a Motherfucker YOU DIDN1T ACTUALLY THINK I WAS GOING TO LEAVE you inside marriage and family in the regular way, did you? Listen, I love my family. Like gonzo. And it’s true enough Andy and Miles have pretty much rebirthed me. And yeah. I’m married. With family.

• From Real Sex for Real Women (2008)

  Nonerotic touchIf touch has become overlaid with confusing or negative messages, couples should establish a time for nonerotic cuddling, and then set the boundaries clearly. Regular touch will naturally increase intimacy, which may balance out your sexual needs; he will be more satisfied and you may want sex more often. Making nonerotic touch an everyday part of your relationship—playing with your partner’s hair, for example, or tickling their back—can get your relationship back on track, and help create an environment in which erotic touch can be reborn. This is especially true if you touch without sexual pressure or expectation—as with kissing, touching outside of the bounds of foreplay can be a powerful libido enhancer. Even if you’re not experiencing mismatched libidos, don’t lose the sense of touch in your relationship. Find simple, sexy, and satisfying ways to connect physically throughout the day and night, then start using touch to enhance your erotic relationship, too. Hellos and goodbyesStart with a good-morning cuddle. If your schedules are different or neither of you are morning people, implement touch in a slightly different way. Greet your man from the shower with a fluffy towel straight from the dryer. He’ll associate the warmth and softness of the towel with your soft embrace. Before you leave for work in the morning, don’t just throw a peck on your partner’s cheek as you run to the car. Take one minute out of your busy schedule to set an affectionate, loving tone for the rest of the day. Wrap your arms around him and plant a kiss on his lips. It will have you thinking of each other all day long. Wrestle for itRemember back in school, when flirting meant playfully punching the boy you liked? Or when the kid who had a crush on you would pull your hair and run away? These silly, flirtatious moves often end as you move into adulthood, but a few competitive caresses can bring a little fun and sassiness back into your relationship. The next time your man crawls into bed and tries to steal all the covers, don’t just whine about it—roll over and attack him with a little erotic wrestling. Rolling and play-fighting under the covers can be highly sexual, especially if you are nude. Even if you are fully clothed, wrestling can be a powerful libido enhancer. The next time you’re arguing over who controls the television remote, challenge him to an arm-wrestling match to settle the issue. Any activity that increases your heart rate and gets you into physical contact will be good for your sex life.

• From Worried about Everything Because I Pray about Nothing (2022)

  “No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.” (1 Corinthians 10:13) 15. I am part of the body of Christ. “Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.” (1 Corinthians 12:27) 16. I live by faith, and Jesus lives in me. “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20) 17. I am blessed. “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.” (Ephesians 1:3) 18. I am redeemed and forgiven. “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace.” (Ephesians 1:7) 19. I am God’s handiwork, created to do good. “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10) 20. I know God will finish the work He started in me. “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6) 21. I am provided for by God. “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19) 22. I am powerful, loving, and self-disciplined. “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.” (2 Timothy 1:7) 23. I have full access to the throne of grace. “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16) 24. I am a child of God. “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (1 John 3:1)

• From Worried about Everything Because I Pray about Nothing (2022)

  seconds and often are not spoken out loud. 3. I pray nightly with my boys when they go to bed. I pray specifically for them: what I feel for them, what they are going through, what they are concerned about. 4. We have a weekly prayer meeting at our church on Saturdays at 6:00 p.m. that I usually lead or attend. 5. Every Sunday I pray throughout the morning, and we also spend a few minutes praying with the volunteer team for the services. 6. During our Sunday services, right after worship, we pray together as a church for needs people have. As you can see from the above list, for me, prayer is not about quantity. These are not long prayer times, for the most part. I don’t time my prayers. I pray frequently, though. I pray about everything, so I’m anxious about nothing. That’s not just a book title. It’s the way I live. Remember, I have a full-time job, four children, and a couple of hobbies, so it’s not like I sit around all day with nothing to do. On the other hand, my full-time job includes prayer, so I get paid to pray, in a sense. Those things are unique to me. So please don’t compare yourself to me. You don’t have my life, and I don’t have yours. I’m not your example of prayer. Jesus is. You can always find someone “worse” at prayer (whatever that means) if you want to feel superior, but you can also find someone “better” if you want to feel discouraged. But that all seems a little pointless, doesn’t it? How about if we stop looking at everyone else, and instead we pray however and whenever we can? How about if we develop a personal relationship with God and let that relationship grow and shift organically, rather than trying to impress anyone else? I need prayer, and you do too! We need more prayer, not less prayer. Just get started. Pray a little, then pray a little more. Don’t let ignorance, inexperience, boredom, discouragement, shame, flesh, disorganization, or even a line of adorable ducks block your prayers. Go around the obstacles. Dodge the ducks. Once you experience the peace and the power of prayer, you’ll never stop.

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  I could carry you down to the parlour carpet, and kiss you there!’ But I never did. For though we were at liberty at last to be as saucy and as clamorous as we chose, we found we couldn’t break ourselves of our old habits: we still whispered our love, and kissed beneath the counterpane, noiselessly, like mice.That, of course, was when we had time for kisses. We were working six nights a week now, and there was no Sims and Percy and Tootsie to keep us lively after shows; often we would arrive back at Stamford Hill so weary we would simply fall into the bed and snore. By November we were both so tired Walter said we must take a holiday. There was talk of a trip to the Continent - even, to America, where there were also halls at which we might build up a quiet reputation, and where Walter had friends who would lodge us. But then, before the trip could be fixed, there came an invitation to play in pantomime, at the Britannia Theatre, Hoxton. The pantomime was Cinderella, and Kitty and I were wanted for the First and Second Boy roles; and the offer was too flattering to resist.My music-hall career, though brief enough, had been a happy one; but I do not think that I was ever so content as I was that winter, playing Dandini to Kitty’s Prince, at the Britannia. Any artiste will tell you that it is their ambition to work in pantomime; it is not until you play in one yourself, however, at a theatre as grand and as famous as the Brit, that you understand why. For the three coldest months of the year you are settled. There is no dashing about from hall to hall, no worrying about contracts. You mix with actors and ballet-girls, and make friends with them. Your dressing-room is large and private and warm - for you are really expected to change and make-up in it, not arrive, breathless, at the stage door, having buttoned on your costume in your brougham. You are handed lines to speak, and you speak them, steps to take, and you take them, costumes to wear - the most wonderful costumes you ever saw in your life, costumes of fur and satin and velvet - and you wear them, then pass them back to the wardrobe-mistress and let her worry about mending them and keeping them neat. The crowds you have to play before are the kindest, gayest crowds there ever were: you will hurl all manner of nonsense at them and they will shriek with laughter, merely because it is Christmas and they are determined to be jolly. It is like a holiday from real life - except that you are paid twenty pounds a week, if you are as lucky as we were then, to enjoy it.The Cinderella in which we played that year was a particularly splendid one.

• From The Chronology of Water (2011)

  Outside the house there was nothing but forest. The Bull Run Wilderness hid elk and deer and bobcat. Wild pheasants and coyote and eagles and great blue herons. A freshwater creek trickled at the base of our property - water that ran for miles. To the side of the house, a giant warehouse loomed that the owner had been using as a woodworking studio. The owner made wooden marimbas as beautiful as music sounds. He showed them to us. They smelled like life. The owner had built the house. Crafted the woodwork with the passion of an artist. Inside the warehouse was an enormous woodstove. Inside the warehouse I felt something stirring in me. Something about a self. Something about the freedom to make. The feeling felt older than me. Inside the house, I felt safety. All those trees protecting us. A river curling around us. Something up until that point in my life I’d only felt in water. When Andy and I and Virginia and Miles sat down in front of the house, butterflies and dragonflies and a hummingbird accompanied our distance. As if to say, you are home. We were 25 minutes from the city I would work in. From people. We were 45 minutes from Portland. Culture and the socius. Virginia walked off a ways to have a cigarette. Then it was just me, Andy, and Miles. I said, “Andy, I can’t believe how beautiful it is here. It takes my breath away.” I turned away from him. I felt small. Maybe like a kid. “I don’t know how to thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, coming up behind me with Miles on his shoulder like a little second man. “It’s what’s next.” Andy has a weird way of making the impossible sound ordinary. Our first days that ran into nights than ran back into days in that house in the forest were like what I understand Shakespeare to mean by the green world. Seriously. You know, where the action of a play starts out in normal world and then goes into green world where a magical metamorphosis takes place. Think A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I always wanted to wear that donkey head thing or run around naked in the woods. Actually, Northrup Frye came up with the phrase. Sorry. It’s the goddamn academic in me. But my life with Andy and Miles in the green world really did magically change everything for me. For example. Christmas? At Christmastime we didn’t trudge up any godforsaken mountain hill in the shoulder high snow to get a goddamn tree. No one yelled their head off. No one cried their eyes out. We simply went to a tree lot and bought the biggest fucking Christmas tree they had, like a 12-footer, strapped it to the car, drove it to our sanctuary, and peed our pants with joy - the open space of the octagons filling with the smell of Douglas fir and glee.

• From The Fermata (1994)

  I didn’t get off at that stop because I didn’t want to unnerve her or seem threatening; I reached home an hour later feeling that, in making gifts of two of my sex toys, I had turned the day around. The Fermata 6 I HAVE WRITTEN ALMOST ALL BUT THE BEGINNING CHUNK OF this autobiographical work not sunk in the Fold but moving forward in “real time” (a term that Rhody, my ex-girlfriend, hated, though, let me tell you, substitutes are hard to come by), over two weeks of evenings, sitting at my desk in my room, smelling the smell of burning dust given off by my high-intensity lamp. I thought when I began this recital that I would write every word of it in the Fold, but, like most of the extreme ideas that I find so exciting when I first have them, I have had to abandon it in the execution. Writing is solitary enough (especially the way I’m writing now, which is with a set of earbuds in, listening to music, and thus existing unaccompanied in the very middle of a vast artificial stereophonic space, like one of those tiny figures, each accompanied by its perfunctory shadow, in a Le Corbusier drawing of an urban landscape) without intensifying the sense of solitude by stopping time. Also, the radio stations don’t broadcast when the universe is stopped. And furthermore, writing takes a great deal of time. A paragraph can take an hour! I’ve already noted that I have spent close to two years in the Fold: which makes me really thirty-seven, not thirty-five, if you measure my age by my internal cellular time. Were I to add to that secret aging all the time I will ultimately spend writing this book, I might begin, would probably begin, to look noticeably older than my birth certificate says I am, and I have no interest in inverted remakes of Dorian Gray . Reading over what I’ve put down so far makes me conscious of many imbalances and omissions, but there isn’t too much I can do about them. I do, though, want to point out sooner rather than later that my sexual life has not been entirely made up of the sorts of Fermating activities I just described at the library. Rhody and I had good, friendly sex (though I tended to talk too much throughout, perhaps), real-time sex, and we were together for long enough, a little over sixteen months, that we were able to marvel at how many incremental variations a couple could come up with—variations so minor that they couldn’t really be codified.