I’m taking a breather from the Sex 2.0 Con to chill in the hotel room I’m sharing with my buddy Sarah Dopp, who fucking rules.
I just conducted a session called “Flying your Freak Flag” and it was about being out and kinky and all and I will now confess something that has gotten me lots of strange looks over the years:Â until I get up in front of the room, I don’t know what I am going to say.
Now,Â I write descriptions for these things, and so I know what people are expecting to hear. In my head I think “OK. Give them what they expect, give them what they do NOT expect…and then surprise yourself.”
I feel like, for me, to much planningÂ razes the seedlings that sprout in the room as people bring their own seeds and their own organic selves to the discussion. So, I leaveÂ it open. Thankfully, my God is a writerÂ so I let him call the shots. I feel out what people are doing internally in the moment, and run with that. it is terrifying andÂ liberating and I love it.
I overcame my usual post-class snail-reflex and stayed to talk to people. one participant told me that reading my class description was what motivated them to come toÂ Sex 2.0 in the first place, andÂ THAT was humbling. Also AWESOME was theÂ energy I got from other WOC in the room when I talked about being out and being Black. Fucking A.
I don’t wanna overthink it. I do want to say thank you for the energy and the feedback and the livetweeting.
The whole think was a bowlful of spiritual manna from which I’ll be feeding myself through long wintry nightimes of the spirit when I wonder why the fuck I put myself through this shit.
You give me so very, very much.Â That is why, and that is all, and that is enough.