Sex Gets Me Up: Energy For A Busy Life, Part 4/7

Sex as a form of caffeine. A ridiculous concept that I hope all of you are willing to try.

I drink about 2.5 cups of coffee a day. The half cup is just re-using the grinds from the first cup to make a cup of decaf. (Other wise, I’d be drinking 3-4 cups of the high octane giddyup and that would be no fun for anyone involved, trust!) While I try to time my caffeine intake so that I get the most bang for my cup, there’s a better form of caffeine available in limited quantities. It’s called sex, people. You can have it hot, iced, wet, or with (wait for it)… room for cream HA!

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But, seriously folks, this week’s post is part 4 in a 7 part series about how I keep up my high energy levels. The coffee was no secret and it certainly wasn’t worth an entire post on how coffee works. This post will be written for those of you that have experienced orgasmic narcolepsy. Others that may benefit from this post may be those that have been told to “think about Baseball” to avoid cumming too soon. (That was the advice floating around 20 years ago. I pray to the great Boogie Monster in the sky that no one is still doling out that nonsense these days.)

There’s a book that I’ve tried to read more than twice. It’s called “The Multi-Orgasmic Man.” It’s a well-written book with some interesting techniques for, what the authors refer to as, Sexual Kung Fu. However, there was a little thing I had trouble getting my head around. It was le petit mort (the little death). For those of you that are orgasmically narcoleptic, there’s a chance you’ve read about it. The distilled version of the concept is that the human body works so hard to produce that ejaculate (from the penis or the vagina) that we experience a sort of death, in the most pleasurable sense of the word. The book suggests that the process of ejaculating makes us weak, zaps our energy, and makes it difficult for us to focus. Because of that, the book teaches men the difference between having an orgasm and ejaculating. I’ve had trouble getting behind the theory because my body doesn’t always work that way. There have been times when ejaculating has helped me to focus in finish writing that paper. However, the lessons taught in the book about having an orgasm and distributing the sexual energy of that orgasm throughout the body have helped me to have sex with greater frequency and a “2nd wind” of energy afterwards.

“Jet, you’re crazy! If I make the sweet loves, I’m done. I’m giving all of my energy to my partner and I won’t have anything left to give after the fact. I certainly won’t have more energy!” Stay with me on this one, what if you changed the way you thought about sex? Let’s go back to that “think about Baseball” silliness. What do you think about during sex? I find that gratitude can be invigorating. The words “thank you” are on a constant loop in my head during sex. I try to express appreciation for every way in which my partner has given herself to me. I express that appreciation with my thoughts, actions, and kind (albeit few) words. In the moments that my fingers touch her skin or when my fingers interlace with hers, I tap into her energy while sending her mine. That exchange is invigorating. Instead of thinking about something removed from the presence of our interaction (read: Baseball) I think about her. I think about how grateful I am that we’re sharing this experience. I think about all of the interesting smells and poetic sounds. I take it all in as energy and it excites me. The sensory stimulation makes my heart race and stays with me for hours (sometimes days) after an encounter.

Killing myself (as in the little death) is of no interest to me. So, ejaculating isn’t a goal of mine during sex. I’d rather have an orgasm from the energy exchange and carry that energetic high with me throughout the rest of my day. If you’re reading this and you are sexually active, consider sex an opportunity to connect with your partner on an energetic level. WTF does that mean? Have you ever had a hug in which you or the other person, audibly exhaled and proclaimed “I needed that”? That’s what it feels like to connect with someone energetically. I’ve seen posture change, smiles brighten, and attitudes adjust with a hug. Imagine the power of sex as an energetic exchange. In such an exchange, try to be energetically philanthropic in your encounters. Give your energy to your partner as you connect with them on a deeper level. If they’re following the Four Rs of good sex then the Reciprocity they give will provide the energy you need for your daily life. I once asked a woman out for a coffee. When she said that she was tired, I took it as a polite, “no thank you, I’m not interested.” Coffee (often) resolves tired. Hopefully, the sex (and energetic exchange) you have resolves tired. We can be too tired for many things, but hopefully not things that resolve tired. I challenge you all to change the way you think about sex.

Sex gives me energy.
*say it with me*
Sex gives me energy.
*say it with me*
Sex gives me energy.

The Easiest Difficult Thing You Can Do (Is Change The World)

As part of a school assignment, I recently began some volunteer work and something I heard resonated with me. The gentleman leading our tour said, “I must do something” is more powerful than saying, “something must be done.” That resonated with me because I’ve always said, “If you’re doing nothing to change a situation, you lose all rights to complain about it.” (There is always the caveat that some situations are not ours for the changing. But, you knew that already.)

Let’s take a moment and look at that “something must be done” statement. There is a phrase that falls under the something must be done umbrella. I’ve heard this phrase more than once (which is too often). This phrase is so shitty that I’ve begun using it as a determinant for a person’s assholedness (that’s totally a word, BTW).  Ready? “They should just get rid of all of the homeless people.” I’ve heard that phrase spoken aloud, written about in blogs (which I will NOT hyperlink), and even alluded to by the local media* here in the Bay Area a combined total of four times in the past six years. Again, that’s too often. [*Local media was running a teaser about cleaning up San Francisco. While all of the clips they showed were not of trash, but of homeless people.] The homeless population are people, not problems. Recently, a DudeBro said this phrase to me and I wanted to hear his magical problem solving skills. Perhaps I was just bored, but I had to probe deeper. “What do you propose they do with them?” (Can we all agree to stop referring to a mythical they, when what we really mean is anyone but me?) DudeBro had no clear answer as to how to remove the homeless population from his field of vision. He seemed to ramble something about “shipping them off” as my disdain for his lack of compassion grew legs. My savior complex kicked in as I tried to guide his mind down a path of social justice. “Isn’t it more important that we consider how they got there in the first place?” While I was leaning towards inequality in the socioeconomic status of various demographics here in the sickeningly affluent Bay Area, he seemed to (shockingly) miss my drift. He muttered some unsubstantiated stereotype about drugs as if to suggest that all homeless persons were addicts of some sort. At that point, my disdain grew wings and I just flew away from the conversation. I want nothing to do with that person. The truth is, I want nothing to do with any human that shrugs as if we’re not all susceptible to the human condition. The way the story goes, two men, in pursuit of justice, take different measures to accomplish their goal. One of them (for all fellow comic book nerds, the Punisher) doesn’t hesitate to kill the villains. The other (Daredevil) will best them in a fight while sparing their lives. In a potent scene, Punisher says to Daredevil, “You’re just one bad day away from being me.” In the song “Thought Process” by Goodie M.O.B., Cee-Lo raps, “Sometimes I don’t even know how I’m gon’ eat // ‘Bout twenty dollars away from being on the street” Have you ever considered the possibility? I’m not suggesting that you look at the destitute and think “what if.” No, I’m asking if you’ve realized how the structure of our economy and healthcare system could find you on the street with one bad day? The way the story goes, a teacher of 20 years did all the right things, she saved her money, she owned her home, she was fiscally responsible, and then she had her bad day. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. After winning a long battle with cancer, the medical bills wiped her out. She now lives in a homeless shelter. That’s a truncated version of the story. I’ll spare the details about how the chemo and surgeries changed her body and made it difficult for her to work. The point that I’m trying to drive home for you all is that the person in need of compassion is not just who you could be after one bad day. That person in need is your sister or your brother. Race and gender are social constructs. We are all relatives under the Species: Homo Sapiens

I must do something. It’s interesting to watch people give money to the homeless population. I recently saw a man hold out some cash from his car window at the freeway off ramp. As the human jogged towards the car, the man threw the cash on the ground from his luxury sedan’s window. He smiled with pride (or Sadism) as the human bent down to retrieve the treasure. Is this his example of doing something, making a difference? Any project that has no simple solution, begs for the most efficient use of time and effort. When I decide to do something, giving blindly to a charity doesn’t feel right without researching the percentage they spend on “administrative” costs. I’ve met a lot of non-profit executives with expensive cars and homes. Those numbers don’t make sense to me. I must do something. Giving a dollar to the man on the corner that’s texting on his smartphone or talking on his bluetooth headset doesn’t make sense to me. Candy bars cost more than a dollar and that phone bill isn’t paying itself. I must do something. I have something to give that holds greater value than money, I have my time to give. (We can all make more money, no one can make more time. Remember to honor the time of others as well as your own.) I have my (physical) strength to give. Armed with those tools, I must do something has manifested in my volunteering a few hours a week at the local food bank. I don’t meet any of the hungry families. I just sort the food, lift the heavy things, and help keep the warehouse organized. I began doing this a project for an Anthropology Term Paper. I intend to continue volunteering my time because I needed to do something. I couldn’t get mad at the DudeBros for trying to “get rid of” a population without actually doing something.

Many of you know that I’m going to school to be a healer in order to do something, with my hands, with my mind, with my heart, globally. I don’t want to be limited by a patient/client list at a job with a glass ceiling. I want to help everyone within my reach and I want to reach far. In July, with the help of other compassionate humans, I’m traveling to the Dominican Republic to help rebuild communities. Please, read all about that here and make a small donation if you are able. If you’re unable to donate money, please share this with your sphere of influence.

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After reading all of this, you don’t have to go out and do any of the things that I’m doing. But, I’d like to encourage you to do something. Don’t wait for the election, don’t wait for anyone to give you permission. Do something to make a difference. “Something must be done” has been said for too long.

Shifting gears a bit, join me for a special workshop that I’ll be leading on everyone’s favorite exercise. Click here to sign up!


Energy For A Busy Life, Part 3: Sleepy Time (A Seven Part Series)

Greetings! This is part three in a seven part series about how I keep high energy levels for a full life. [IWM…When it occurs to me, I try to avoid using the word “busy” as that sounds like an annoyance. My life is far from an annoyance. I love my life and I am responsible for creating the life that I have. I chose this job, this apartment, these friends, these lovers, this car, these pets, and all of the other magic that makes up my life. In some cases (friends, lovers, pets, jobs, et al.) they chose me as well, but I can assure you that there is mutual love and my life is not busy, it’s full.]

When some people get a glimpse of my calendar they ask, “how do you do it” and my reflex response is “I take naps” and (100% of the time) their response has been, “Oh, I can’t do that!” It makes me laugh when people claim they can’t do something they’ve only tried once. I hear that some cultures have embraced the mid-day rest and it’s totally a thing. Perhaps you’ve heard of a *obnoxious air quotes with silly raised eyebrows* SIESTA!? Well, let me tell you that taking a siesta is the shit! But, first let’s address this issue of people that can’t take naps.

It may take a bit of work (read: practice) but, keep trying and you can take naps. When I was a little kid, I have a distinct memory of running into the living room to report to my mother… “Mama, Mama! I can’t sleep!” In her typical, no-nonsense, matter-of-fact way, she responded with a rhetorical question. “Do you know why you can’t sleep?” She paused briefly to let the question sink in  before continuing on to say, “…because you’re in here talking to me! Now take yo’ ass in there and go to sleep!” My young (yet pragmatic) mind found that to be the most logical reason I’d ever heard for not being able to sleep. So, I took my ass in there and went to sleep. That’s been my attitude towards sleep ever since. I know, I know, I know… Not everything falls under the Just Do It problem solving methodology. But, here are some steps you can take to take yo ass to sleep (read: nap).

When people tell me that they can’t nap, they often divulge that they’re unable to quiet their mind long enough to nap. When I ask about what’s going on in their sleeping environment, they describe all sorts of chaos like phone notifications, easily accessible TV remotes, sex toys, and internet porn just waiting to be used. I’ve already written about how to remove the noise from the bedroom in order to maintain the sanctuary that is sleep. (Click < that link to read the post from 2013.) But, sometimes a little chaos (read: discomfort) is what’s needed in order to not sleep too long. A twenty minute disco nap does me right. I set the timer on my phone for 21 minutes and put the phone far enough away from the bed/couch/yoga mat so that I have to walk to it to shut it off. (I make sure it’s close enough to be within earshot.) Once I hit start on the timer, that extra minute affords me the time it will take to get into position for what my brother (the former Marine) refers to as combat sleep. I’ve been known to sleep with my eyes open. It’s not intentional and I don’t know how to replicate it. But, that’s the idea behind combat sleep. Get just comfortable enough to sleep without getting so comfortable that your sleep gets deep. To learn more about what it means to be in a deep sleep, click this hyperlink. But, the distilled version of the sleep cycle is [copied/pasted from the Google machine] “Usually sleepers pass through five stages: 1, 2, 3, 4 and REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. These stages progress cyclically from 1 through REM then begin again with stage 1. A complete sleep cycle takes an average of 90 to 110 minutes.” There’s all sorts of wearable tech these days to afford a better understanding of your personal sleep cycle and how long it takes. But, it’s safe to say that napping less than 45 minutes will keep you from reaching REM sleep. (IWM… The human body is amazing and you may be the outlier that can reach REM sleep in 40 minutes. The confidence in my words is based on personal anecdotal evidence as well as statistical averages.) At any rate, back to combat sleep… Once you’ve chosen your comfortable/uncomfortable position, set your timer, place it far/close enough from your spot. Lay there and just “switch off” your brain. I once read that the average American of 2016 has the level of anxiety equivalent to that of an average patient in a 1950s psych ward. Since they considered homosexuality a mental illness at that time, we can all roll our eyes at the aforementioned comparison. However, if you think about it for a moment, all of the beeps and blips we get as notifications for the multiple means of contact that the world has to reach us are sure to cause some level of anxiety. So, when people tell me that they can’t nap, the message I perceive is that they have trouble shutting their brain off. You can start by repeating your intention for the nap. I intend to refresh my mind with stillness. *repeat* I intend to refresh my mind with stillness. Continue repeating that phrase until you drift off or until the timer goes off. I know, I know. You’re going to want more sleep. Just get on up, drink some water and start doing something that requires minimal brain power (like washing dishes or brushing your teeth). You’ll shake it off sooner than later and be able to go on with your day, energized!

In part four of this series (in two weeks) I’ll write about what I do for energy that could replace coffee! *gasp*


About 15 years ago, I finished my second book (a collection of poems) entitled, “Heavy Mettle.” Lately, I’ve been revisiting the catharsis of creative writing. Friend J and I were having a conversation about the frustration with that head-up-ass sort of lovey dovey loverly love that humans experience from time to time. We talked about how it’s often lopsided in real life. In the movies, they’re always on the same page. This one loves that one and all ends happily, despite the 40 minutes of drama in the second act. In my thoughts about my lopsided experiences, I dug up this poem that was written at the turn of the century (I love that I can say that now). Here it is, imagine a 20-something Jet (the poet formerly known as Nocturnus) performing this in the Red Light Cafe or the Patti Hut Cafe (now closed) in Atlanta in 2001.


Despite its glory,
unrequited is this story
spoken in the tune of the unfortunate.
I dare not speak of time
for that lends itself to other things.
I spend this ink on a story of vision.

The blanket,
which is her existence,
covers me,
as does the morning sun
in the naked air of October.
Consume does she,
my efforts at composure
for they to are lost to her.
This woman hath not eyes
for me, nor my kind,
and I find
is this situation
this infection
placed upon my person.
Scents of heaven roll down for her
as the wind caresses her breath
and push her gaze out forward
towards the unprepared benefactor.
She is guided by that which is celestial
and cradled by a spirit
that must owe some penance to me.
A greater gift I dare not observe
for her smile
outshines all things
of material worth.

The elixir,
which is her beauty,
strikes me,
as does the chill of winter
in Michigan.
I speak the tune
of the unfortunate
for she hath not eyes
for me nor my kind.
I find that her embrace
speaks volumes of her affection
and loving manner.
I may never know
of her true power
nor will I ever find myself
outside the realms
of her spell.
Her overcast eyes
tell the story of romantic
and endearing skies
that reach out from westward bearings.
I pray that I may
understand the designs of her beauty
and the rapture that fuels them so.

The serenity,
which is her voice,
caresses me;
the same as the fine Jazz of the ages penetrates my soul.
envelops my entirety
during our departures.
I know not of how or if
my lips against her flesh
will cripple my already tender heart.
(Made so by her gentle nature
and the openness of her mind.)
Yet, I speak the tune of the unfortunate
for she hath not eyes
for me, nor my kind.
Time shall soon beset me
and find me under a blanket of tears
if I do not find a way
to prove the “potential”
that I feel for her.
The potential to love her,
the yearnings to be near her.

I pray thee,
follow my desires
onto this broken path
with twisted glass
as I journey with bare foot
and barren lungs.
I have given my breath to her
upon her asking!
Note my journey
with bare-naked flesh.
I have given my very last
for her warmth and comfort.
Note my journey of infinite years
that shall begin with a single step
as she commands it!
If she will have it so,
she will walk by my side
with aims on taking a journey
equal in every way
with the soul
that has searched for hers
since days long since past.

^from the mind of Nocturnus Exerçant Calme

There is a haunting truth and timelessness to that piece that causes the words to resonate 15 years after the pen bled out on the page and ended the curse of its blank existence. Every woman that I’ve walked towards has walked away and every woman that has walked towards me has seen me walk away. There is balance in the world, at least that’s what they say. When the pendulum swings in favor of one, it eventually swings in favor of its opposite. Ahhh, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could ride the pendulum and enjoy the swinging together! That would be nice. Until then, I’ve grown tired of walking and I hope to sit with someone for a while and enjoy each other’s warmth.