If I Had a Hammer...

Warning – the following blog post is a completely revealing insight into my human frailty and base sense of humour.

Lately, every conversation I have is about sex. I’m not really that surprised; I talk about it a lot anyway so go ahead and add months and months of suppressed sexual identity and no prospect of an “encounter” or relationship and you have a recipe for … well to be frank and fairly uncouth – whatever the female equivalent of “blue balls” might be.

Just today, I was skyping with a good friend and we were joking about the fact that I mentioned I was on a boat trip and while out on the ocean was contemplating life and what prospects I had in my near future for “getting a bit”. She said “I get it.. big blue ocean.. who can I fuck?” and I said yeah big blue ocean, who can I fuck?... tall tree who can I fuck?... red car, who can I fuck?... empty beer can, who can I fuck?.. Oh yes, the situation is terminal.

Terminal because I can’t escape it; what’s that old saying?.. For someone with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. Well I’ve got a big old hammer and everything- all my memories, past relationships, current interactions, chance encounters – everything – looks like a nail that either fuels the fire or explains why I have no fire to fuel!

I’m thinking meditation is the only answer. But, you know, it’s not the ONLY answer. It’s just the answer to avoid what some other answers might be – because clearly I have poor judgement in this area; clearly my big old hammer has gotten me in some trouble in the past; clearly I cannot be trusted with the hammer and need to miraculously turn it into something far less forceful and energetic and much more zen, like a feather. OK, very bad analogy.

If only I would use my energy for good and not evil.

Perhaps I will go and do some yoga – yes that way whilst I am calming my mind and walking the middle path I am also training my body to be a pretzel. One never knows when that might come in handy…