Realizations The Autobiography
of Julian Lee / COPYRIGHT
2009 JULIAN LEE
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Women & Sex
After long years here I can say there are two important things in this world for a man: Woman and God. We could also say Sex and God. And those are actually opposed to each other, though many can't hear this today. And it's a part of the cosmic symmetry of these two -- sex and God -- that they are quite like each other. Yet they are not the same thing. By having the proper understanding of sex, you can get God. With no religious understanding about sex, all you get is sex and a disturbed life and world. I had to come into this knowledge on my own. My religion was little help at first. I am going to talk frankly about sex here, because in this burgeoning porn age that is what is required to throw back evil and ignorance and take this subject out of the hands of vile pornographers: Frank talk for the right purpose. And because along with God, sex is the other most important subject in the world. It should not be left to pornographers, but to honest and religious men.
Entering my classroom on the first day of 2nd Grade I glanced down the hall in time to catch a glimpse of a delightful creature. She was entering her own classroom at the other end of the hall, under another nun. I was stunned. She had on a skirt and uniform as all our Catholic girls wore, and beautiful long chestnut hair. Having grown up with brothers, I was unprepared to see that vision. I was astounded by her beauty and charm. Her name was Mary, as many Catholic girls were named, but I didn't even know her name for months later. I was so moved by her that I had her on my mind all day. Though not sexual at that age, I was agitated by the sight of her and the thought "She must be mine." I had heard from a brother that "If you make a promise to God you cannot break it." I decided to view that idea in reverse. That night a seven-year-old spoke out loud a solemn oath to God. I said: "God, I promise I will marry that girl I saw today." Just a glimpse of a face, her tresses, and her winsome feminine ways and I felt: If I couldn't have her in my life, life suddenly didn't seem worth living. I think I said it three times just to be sure He got it.
When I finally began to have closer encounters with girls -- little conversation possibilities -- I found I was completely flustered and tongue-tied around them. Later as we grew and personalities began to develop, and social status showed, and cliques of friends formed -- the idea of marrying the beautiful Mary seemed a far cry. Soon after seeing my first unaccountable crush, I took to what all young boys love best, and that is other male friends. As I grew and developed the boyish interests -- launching bottle rockets, constructing car models, playing "war" games -- it seemed girls were just boring creatures who were not interested in "cool things." The emotional complexity of facing them and learning how to talk to them was a disturbing mystery, and boys were cooler anyway for friends, so girls receded from my mind as it should be with boys. It's natural and right for boys to prefer other boys for friends, not girls, until the sexual feelings develop. Even then if he does not become raging sex addict, he'll still prefer the friendship of other males in certain important ways. It's not good for boys to be too involved with girls at an early age, and vice-versa. This was all understood by the culture and the church, and there were many natural separations between the two groups. Growing up is complicated enough without the confusion of male-female dynamics except in small controlled doses.
I basically didn't worry myself over mysterious girls up to about the age of 12 or so, except as aesthetic eye candy from a distance. Then around the 7th grade some of the girls in our class began to get busts, wear hose, and some makeup, and things started to change. Because sex was not discussed by my parents, or any other wholesome place in society, I was not even sure what the change meant. All I knew is that our formerly boring female classmates were taking on a compelling power, almost like talismans. We would be drawn to tease them just to have some kind of interaction with them. May God forgive me for lobbing a too-well-aimed pear at the buxom Katie H. (God cherish and guide her delightful soul) and especially for putting burrs in her hair. (A thing I deeply regret doing, and which brought my first visit to the office of the principal, who was a severe and rather intimidating nun with Nordic blond hair just like Katie's.) I did not understand at the time how that instinct to direct missiles at her was a cosmic masculine imperative roiling in my loins.
Then one day my brothers went and visited the basement bedroom of our next door neighbor. This family was Jewish, though I did not know that for many years later. One of my brothers had crawled into an upper crawl space and was looking at something in there with a flashlight. Then another brother went in and traded places with him. I became curious and asked the Jewish fellow what they were looking at in there. He said: "Do you want to go and look." I agreed and climbed up there. They were looking at a magazine. It showed naked women, with big breasts. The boy apparently pilfered his father's Playboy Magazines, a magazine I'd never heard of. Immediately my penis began to grow and get long, and I felt a rush of feelings. Excitement, prickly feelings, a sense this was something bad, and dismay at what had happened to my penis. I looked for a few moments, but my conscience told me there was something wrong with this. Uncomfortable, I crawled out of the insulation-smelling crawlspace.
So this was my first introduction to sex, and it was an improper introduction, with nothing explained about the significance of sex, or the higher understandings we had in our culture or religion, which would let me make some sense of the experience or any firm resolutions about it. Mother had warned me about drugs and alcohol, but neither parent had ever said a word about sex. Thus I was like a lamb to the slaughter.
Later it happened that me, or my friends and I, would occasionally stumble on pages torn from Playboy magazine in gulches, or in forests in Greenwood park. Somebody would find a torn page, or maybe two or three, and they would share their find with others. The same experience happened again. The rush feeling. The pricklies. The heart speeding up. The generative organ growing.
As these little finds would turn up around our town and this experience would repeat now and then, I began to get addicted to the thrill of it, the the rush of the feeling. I began to really enjoy and desire to see the naked female body.
This is natural for a male. But I was not learning about sex in the right way, with the right moral or religious content included. It was pornographers who were teaching the young men about sex in those times, as also today, and those are the last ones who should be doing that. It should be fathers, moralists, and religious men who teach men about sex. This was one of the first major failings of the Catholic Church for me, though I don't blame the Catholic religion per se. It's just the state it was in at that time. However, an addiction to seeing these pictures occasionally grew in me, as with others I am sure, though there was still a great deal to know and learn about what sex was.
But this immediately changed, for me and other boys, the way we viewed our female classmates and their developing female bodies. They became highly distracting objects of interest for us, though I for one still did not understand sex or why that attraction was there. I just knew they started to be on my mind a lot, and physically. Boys would talk, too. Pretty soon some of the more "worldly" boys would tell me things about what sex is, only half-knowing themselves. At one point one told me that "in sex, the male inserts his penis in the lower thing of the woman." That seemed like an odd and unseemly thing to do. However, in times of picture-fed lust it suddenly didn't seem utterly and completely disgusting, yet what was the point?
Then some time in the 7th grade, at age 12, I was walking home from school, briefly due to a shared route, with a boy in our class named M. Caufield. He was a strange kid who didn't seem to feel a part with the rest of us boys. He always had this vaguely embarassed, apologetic quality and never seemed to pair up with any friend. Walking along he started telling me that he had a magazine that showed the full female body. I said something like "Where'd you get that?" He said he said he found it somewhere. He said "Do you want to see?"The prospect was interesting. I walked on a little extra and got to his house in a nearby neighborhood, and he handed it out the door to me in a brown paper bag. It was a trait of Cauflied that he did not tend to invite his friends into his house. He seemed to want to get rid of it. Sure enough, there it all was. I was overwhelmed. Now I too felt like I had in my possession some very wicked thing, something radioactive.
(Through the eyes of age I recalled the one time I was in M. Caufield's home and what his mother looked like and how she acted -- distant, not warm to me or his friends. I realized who often changes "feld" to "field" in their names. I realized why he acted as if he had a secret and never got close to any of the other kids. His mother, who was divorced, likely put him in a Catholic school because it was a better education and environment. I remembered his lugubrious face, and I realized that the 2nd major distributor of porn in my life was a Jew.)
This is the way with all men. We are visually affected by the female. A sane and wise society puts filters and baffles over the female body so that young men are not so affected. These still existed from the cultural heritage, but the pornographers were now punching through them. And a wise society would give wisdom guidance to young men about sex feeling, and both rationale and means for restraining it and not willfully inflaming it. But there was none of this. All I knew was that periodically I just wanted to see the female body again, and feel those feelings. I had a vague sense that there was a "sin" to this. But my teachers had not made this consciously clear. In the second grade the nun had gone through The Ten Commandments with us. There was one saying "Thou shalt not commit adultery." It was a strange word. The nun demurred to explain to us what adultery meant. It would have been better had the commandment said "Thou shalt not cultivate lust." "Adultery" was overly-euphemistic. Then the nun might have explained this much:
"Lust is something you won't know about until you get to your teens. It has to do with God's creative impulse in men and women, and the thing that makes babies get created, what brought you yourself into life. It is like a desire, a desire for pleasure, because human pleasure is associated with the creative power. The commandment is saying that when you get to be older, you should not grow that desire in you and misuse it for the sake of pleasure."
That would have been an adequate commandment, and explanation by the nun, and might have helped my mind make the proper connections by my teens, and I might have raised a better fight. As it was, it was not quite clear to me that the lust that I felt when seeing the female body was something to be resisted and controlled. I only had a subconscious sense that this was a sin. Not conscious. Thus I and the other boys were very let down by the Catholic Church at that time. It was only many years later by studying the Hindu Upanishads and sutras intensively that I received the truth.
As the hormones became alive our relationships with the girls in class, which should have had more development at the social, mind, and heart levels -- became thoroughly sexualized for me and the other boys. We would begin to obsess on them sexually. How big were the boobs on one vs. another, etc. Then I would hear more about sex acts. One boy explained to me there's "first base" (kissing), "second base" (touching a breast), "third base" (which I'd rather not write), and then "fourth base" -- which was again explained to me. This seemed to me a crass and opportunistic way to think about girls, at least the beautiful White girls of our classes. But I was always able to accept differences in personality of the many fellows I knew and take their various murmerings with a grain of salt. But still, I didn't see why such a thing should be done (the "fourth base") and it seemed incredibly, well, intimate to imagine it with any of our noble and cultivated girls. I suppose I was around 11 at the time of that conversation.
One day now around 13 years old I read some "edgy" magazine -- something sold in all the grocery stores -- that was an "explanation of sex." It was couched as a science article. At this time, many of these "edgy" publications were starting to come out, such as "The Happy Hooker," which I did not read because it seemed vile on its face. Later I was tempted to peek at a few paragraphs in the grocery store. It seemed the whole culture was suddenly becoming sexualized. The book sections of grocery stores and pharmacies were bristling with edgy New York-derived publications pushing the sexual envelope in the culture. In this article, it talked about the orgasm, which is something I'd never heard of. It also said there is a "post-ejaculatory depression" for the male, which didn't sound too good. But it was all strange -- and interesting. From this edge I fell into a spontaneous masturbation event. I felt horrible after it. Changed in some terrible way. Broken up inside. However, I was amazed by the blissful feeling it gave to me for fleeting moments.
Again, nothing intelligent, moral, or religious was ever spoken to me to help me get my head around this experience and where I should go with it, or not go. Instead, I found myself later wanting to revisit that experience. Because ignorance and darkness immediately enshrouded me within after losing the pure creative essence -- once spread throughout my body but now condensing in lower regions -- I did not understand for many years that this was the male period, and that the depression, regret, and weakness immediately after was the corollary to the female's depressed state at her period.
Thus my health, personality, inner confidence, and life conditions -- and my whole life -- began to be damaged. From then on, too, I saw all mature women sexually and reacted to them sexually. There was no guidance around me whatsoever -- even where it should have surely been -- for life's most difficult and important challenge for a male. In ancient Vedic society they call the teens the period of "brahmacharya." The word means celibacy, and the idea was that the urgent need of that life period was for the young man to develop sexual continence; self control. But there was no such cultural wisdom around me. No talk from my father. Not even a teaching from the priests or Church, even as we teen boys began to become rife with sexual feeling. What sorrow! The news-of-the-world began to change and grow negative. I didn't realize it, but I was a young Adam, and I was now bringing about my further expulsion from The Garden. The world, projection of my own body-mind, collapsed further and further with each passing month. By the 8th grade it was Silent Spring, The Population Bomb, and big-bellied African children starving in Biafra. The prospect of expulsion from the Garden of Eden had been presented to me before by a nun in the Second Grade, but without adequate explanation. I realized years later after long pursuit of yoga (meditation) and the study of the best scriptures (the Upanishads) that it was my own higher self that was placing before me some ancient lost lesson about sex; placed before me that story of Adam, Eve, the apple, and the expulsion from a "garden." This was my own higher self calling out to me, my own religious karma or dharma-karma, trying to give me a clue, trying to guide myself. It's just that my religious karma in this life, or at that time in childhood, was not high-grade enough to give me more explicit guidance. Since then my religious karma has improved and I've manifested much wonderful and instructive external religion. I feel sorry for those who only manifest crap for their experienced religion. With effort and purification, one's karma improves.