But they are Good to Look at

     I spent some time today at Jamestown Beach.  Different beach, different part of the country- same result.  I cold not focus on really much else but the enchanting bodies and smiles of college girls- same story, different bathing suit, for me that is.

I tries, I really did.  I tried reading, naps, meditation, and photography and still ended up in the same place.  It is embarrassing to be a middle-aged man and still be so consumed with the fire of lust and passion for young women and their bikinis.  It is not that I do to appreciate the beauty of adult women, I definitely do.  But they do not put the same effort and focus on their appearance as those in there twenties often do.  The effort pays off in gawking and attention.  The adult women have decided advantage in poise, maturity and wisdom, they know they know their are more important things in their life their hair, suntan and fiercely clutching a cell phone. 

But what is behind this desire or obsession I have?  It is easy to just dump it on cultural programming and pop culture.  I appreciate a nice scapegoat from time to time.  They are always good for a get-out-of-jail-free-card on accountability ad responsibility.  Like the girl in the low-cut, turquoise bikini, scapegoats are very tempting.  Unfortunately, it is really about me, not pop culture.

Or, I could grasp onto the effect of male role models in family.  They were all male chauvinistic pigs, which “understood” that all women were sluts, liars, cheaters and idiots.  Yes, that would be another avenue I could use as an escape form owning my feelings and thoughts.  I could probably get great support from my colleagues in the counseling field.  They love placing most obstacles on the patterning of our childhood experiences.  I will not discount the perspective generically or specifically, but it is still on me to mature and grow.  I a not a child anymore and have plenty of adult patterns and experiences to draw from.

Then there are the exes.  They certainly have shaped and formed my schema on what makes a woman attractive and why.  If looked at closer, they were al women I picked and picked me.  Typically, “we” supported our own patterning and, therefore, not really accurate data or influences.

Lets dig deeper.  Can I really just put aside al these questions aside and stare directly at the fact that I am single and have not dated much in recent years and have had even less ex than that?  De we need to look any further?  Would the solution be a good blowjob and mind-blowing sexual experiences?  Is that the Magic Wand I am searching for that makes this all disappear into thin air like the lady in Houdini’s box? I want to say yes but I am not completely sold.  My gut tells me if that were all in need, I would have done so by now, put aside my values and do it already.

Deep inside the phrase “fear of rejection” stirs in my belly in the way that lets us know that we have just outed ourselves to at least our self, if not others.  Fear of rejection.  Fantasies and daydreams do not say no.  Fantasies and daydreams do not judge my looks.  ALWAYS romantic in stimulation without risk or consequences, unless we begin to believe that fantasies and daydreams are real.  I do not for the most part.  I am really aware the girl in the low-cut, turquoise bikini with a tanning salon tan did not have rapturous sex on the beach earlier this afternoon.  The only evidence is the minor erection I woke with from my nap on the beach. And she was texting someone with her cell phone about forty feet away while posing for anyone watching.  Yep, I know the difference.  And besides, there are no condoms in daydreams and fantasies. 

Risk. Risk is the answer.  Risking rejection, risking pain and risking disappointment.  Pop culture, social programs, my dad, brother and ex-girlfriends may do whatever they please, but all I have to do is leap.  Just leap and embrace risk.