Creation is the process of erection of the eternal mind. Eternal mind being God or the Quantum Soup out of which all phenomena are raised or erected. Through intense focus upon a point in the Eternal Mind a new structure and an order is erected and formed from the infinite sea of potentials. That which has been laying dormant and hidden is given a visible form and also a potency to create more. Creation works ever further through the created in an ever widening webbing of erected forms.

In some sense a human being is the ultimate erection of the eternal mind as the human brain has the potential to engage and reflect the whole range of the eternal mind. The sum of all human greatness far exceeds the potential of a human mind – as we now know it. But does it truly exceed the potential of a mind that has fully engaged all the potential laying dormant in our brain? Who knows? And who is interested in such a question when our gracious human body provides another more easily erected organ to fill our need for creative expansion?

In human being the erection of the eternal mind is most obviously seen and felt in the erection of the male organ or in – the more hidden form – the female organ in preparation of sexual act, and further creation. This particular act has occupied our eternal minds for ages as it has been presented to as the only known means of  personal creation possible for us as individuals.

For ages we have been focused upon the joys of this erected member, upon making love and fucking our brains out  to the present point of boredom. The natural role of sex in furthering life has been replaced by our utter focus on the act itself and the strong sensations and emotions coupled with it. We are stuck with the repetitious act of copulation, stuck with the hormonal rushes of emotion through endless ejaculations and orgasms. We are lost in our own body, imprisoned by a natural process of procreation.

And still we all know somewhere at the back of our mind that something sacred and utmost important lies buried under the thick and glossy, sweaty and greasy images and sensations of sex and copulation. There needs to be something more, something pure and innocent behind the hard and swift acts of banging or the hanging loneliness of hardly ever acted out or suppressed sexuality. There needs to be more than the emptiness of either shared or lonely masturbation. There needs to be more than the violence of subjugation or the violence of accepted victimhood. There needs to more than the mere acceptance of my partner’s need for sex and orgasm. There needs to be more …

Have you ever thought of your whole body – or all human bodies – as an erection of the eternal mind?  Can you think of yourself as the eternal mind that has through the act of copulation found a suitable set of genes from an ovum and a sperm, which you as the creator have then erected – or raised – to the adult form that you now occupy? What if your body – and your life – is the visible and realized form of your eternal mind – or soul? What if you are not the body you inhabit, but the inhabitant of the body, who has chosen to inhabit it in order to make known the unknown, to reveal all the aspects of him/herself to him/herself? What if you are the invisible wholeness of the eternal mind erected into a material form?

The most beautiful thing of having sex, of creating these magnificent bodies for the eternal mind to inhabit, is the immense intensity and focus in which our sexual engagement takes place. We all feel alive having sex, or even thinking about it. A grand point of focus has been erected from pale commonness of our daily life. In that heightened state we know what we want, we are visibly aroused, we are alive. For a moment, at least, for most often our lusty encounters with each other – or ourselves – only last for some petty minutes. How many petty sets of sex can you put in a day? Or a year? For how long do you have the stamina of repeating something that does not really satisfy you, something that leaves you with a hollow feeling of having missed something? Of having spent your energy in vain?

My experiences with my awakening sexuality give you a good mirror to reflect upon your own feelings about it all.

“As a teenager I often lay on the living-room sofa and stared out at the branches of trees. They swayed in the wind and formed faces, things and animals. They amused me and took the empty time forward.

I also searched for interesting books in our bookshelves. I got interested in fucking and naked women. In search for excitement and content to my life I went through the shelves almost book by book. In quite a few I found something but only in the shelves of the local library did I find books that really interested me. They were thrillingly exciting, full of love and fucking. They were even exciting to borrow as the ladies in the library looked rather askew at a boy in his early teens borrowing an adult book. With them I jerked off late at night when my little brother had already fallen asleep in the same room.

For the first time  I realized the bliss of jerking off when once after having been to see a naughty movie I took a bath and happened to touch my cock. The stroking made me stroke more and finally to my great surprise it exploded. Next day after a gym-lesson at school I took my shower in an ashamed way as I felt that everybody could see what I had done. My cock was a little sore.

Jerking off was the lonely pleasure of a lonely boy. I was ashamed and tempted, sometimes many times a day.

I went to the movies at least once a week. When I was not much more than ten years old I saw the “Clockwork Orange”, “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” and just about all the good and bad movies of the day. The owner of the local cinema was well disposed towards paying customers of any age and she let me see anything I ever wanted. She also gave me film-posters with which I covered the walls of my room. Once while watching Emmanuelle I jerked off in the movies. It felt stupid and shameful. But anyhow it was a new experience.

Life was dull and there was nothing much to do. School was easy and not really exciting, home was static, nothing much happened there either. Television, books, movies and food were the major sources of experiences. They filled my days, they filled my mind and body; they both expanded and formed a cozy shell behind which I could retire from the unexplainable present. My parents lived within their personal bubbles of worry and seldom really met me. They were proud of my success at school and of my outwardly civilized tranquility, but that was just about all they cared for. I was alone searching for my way towards adulthood.

I often imagined what it would be like to be a woman. How the breasts would swing when I walked. How it would feel to be penetrated by a man. A vague picture of something hard and soft swinging back and forth often filled my mind. I was not really entering nor was I the entered. There was just this movement of hardness within a soft and receptive wetness.”

The dream of copulation this young man carried was so strong, his focus so intense that it did not take long before he got all he wanted, or did he? But anyhow he got his first sexual encounter with his teacher for religion.

“During the last spring of the secondary school we had a substitute teacher for religion. A young, somehow appealing woman taught us about the Salvation Army. She told us about its founders, principles and work in the normal way, and gave us a test on it during the following lesson. I got 8,5 out of ten possible points.

That spring I was arranging a trip for our class. We had plans to sail to Stockholm, the capital of our neighbor in west. We would take a train to a harbor and then across the sea by a ferry. We would be traveling for two nights and a day. In those days these ferry-trips had a doubtful reputation. Even classes on excursion were thought to drink and misbehave throughout the crossing. Our plans were not first accepted, but when our form-master Rausku promised to accompany us and even to take another teacher with him to care for us we were finally given leave to go. I heard that the other supervisor would be the teacher who had lectured us about the Salvation Army.

Our trip started, we stepped on the train and eventually boarded the ferry. I was the courier and thus had a free cabin, meals etc. I got a cabin where the other bed was empty, no mattress nor any bedclothes. We decided that Rausku and Maija, the substitute teacher, would sleep with me in the same cabin. They would take the upper empty bed above and I would have the real bed underneath.

We bustled about the ferry to pass away the evening. We wandered around, here and there, and finally it was time to go to bed. Rausku, Maija and I settled into our decided places. I felt a little strange and excited, but anyhow it was nice to sleep in the same cabin with a young woman. The lights were turned down and we started to sleep.

I had not yet fallen asleep when Maija climbed down from the upper bunk and said that she would rather sleep beside me. I, as a well-mannered young man, made room for her and this almost naked woman settled herself beside me. Maija had pants and bra and that was it. A warm woman beside me in the narrow bunk was more than I had bargained for; I had never been in bed with women nor with girls either. Only mother whose hugs always felt embarrassing, affected, demanding and even disgusting had hugged me. Having read widely I surely knew what men and women did in bed besides sleeping, but such things I did not dare to think now. I turned my side to Maija and searched for sleep.

We woke up in the morning, dressed and left the ferry for the city. I was confused; I was confused by Maija, the warm woman who had slept beside me. The strange night in the cabin was all that I could think of. I peeped and peered at her on the ferry and in the terminal but did not dare to seek her company. I was left alone to wander about the town.

I walked around the city and thought about Maija. I was unhappy for not having sought her company. My heart trembled when I saw her on a passing bus, the bus did not stop nor did Maija see me. I finally decided to go for a swim. I found an old elegant swimming pool, which had separate opening times for men and women. I could swim naked there. In the pool there was a place where the water coming into the pool pushed the swimmer gently when you swam over it. It was calm and old-fashionably stylish in the pool. The sauna was a strange staircase covered with tiles. And Maija was all that I thought about.

In the evening I returned to the ferry and saw Maija again. The boys crowded her but I kept my eye on her. I attached myself to her company for the dinner; Rausku and some of the boys were also present. We ate and also drank something. I was filled with restless excitement. I trembled in my chair and kept gazing at Maija every now and then. She gazed at me and we were filled with expectation. I did not drink anything much, but surely I was high on something. We did not talk, I was under her spell.

It was time to go to bed. We drew each other, or she drew me, to our cabin. Rausku had come earlier and was already sulking on the upper bunk. Maija and I undressed and settled down in the lower bunk. Lights were turned off and our hands started their movement. First with slight hesitation I touched the exciting warm body beside me, it was strange to be so near and so free. Gradually my hands became more confident and soon I was stroking her all over. I kissed and squeezed her big bouncy tits. My hands found their way into Maija’s pants and there it was, the tempting hot spot. There I remained, examining the exciting wetness around my fingers. Maija stroked me, found the hard one and sucked me off, and then went to spit it away. I lay there on my back filled with new strong sensations. She soon came back and we went on, stroked and rolled, slept and started again. The bed creaked and we sighed all through the night. Rausku slept tightly on the upper-bank with the sole comfort of two life-vests.

In the morning on the train back home I sat beside Maija and held my hand on her tight. She was mine. I wondered why she would have anything to do with the other boys and not concentrate herself solely on me. On the railway-station we agreed to meet again after a few days. In a wondrous confusion I went back home. I had landed in Maija’s bed so suddenly that I was still bewildered. All that had happened gave me a lot to think about.

Next time we met in a cellar-restaurant. We met outside; I was puzzled by the situation, as I had never really been to restaurants. I was only fifteen. The porter graciously let me in in Maija’s company; we left our coats for him to take care, and stepped down to the restaurant itself. We sat at a table and Maija said that I should put my class-ring onto my ring finger so that the waiter would not be curious about my age. I changed the big and clumsy silver ring from my right forefinger to the left ring finger. My new engagement ring was slightly wide but it must have made me look older.

A waiter came to our table and we ordered bottles of beer for both of us. She brought the drinks and I was left sitting with Maija in the dark caves of the restaurant. I looked at the woman in front of me, oh yes; she was a real woman, 23 years of age. She had straight blond hair, exciting eyes with a strangely covered look, a slightly husky voice and delicate cool hands, which I soon took into mine. Or was it Maija who took my hands, I cannot remember. That woman I had held on the ferry, I had almost made love to her. She had not opened her legs to me, as she had been afraid of getting pregnant. Now she told me that her monthly trouble had started the day after our common night, so she had unnecessarily kept me at bay.

We drank our beers and then some more. Maija told me that she was married. She had married because as a student it was easier for a couple to get and pay for a flat than for a single person. She was only married for convenience and did not actually care a whit for her husband. They both went their own independent ways. Maija told me all this while holding my hand. Our fingers played with each other and the evening got older. Finally we had had enough and went out into a summer night. We walked into a nearby park and climbed up a hill. We found a bench overlooking the harbor.

There we sat tight together first conscious about the boats and ferries coming and going. Soon our common interests scooped us away from the view and into the sensational world of our bodies. My hands wound themselves around her, found their way onto her soft and heavy bosom and then did their best. Maija put her hand on me and there we were, stroking, squeezing and heaving high above the harbor. Finally it got dark and cold. We went away. Maija stepped on a tram and I walked to the railway-station and took a train home.

I had told Maija that the best school in town had accepted me for my final years of school. She was pleased for my sake and maybe also for her own sake as it would have been difficult for us to go to the same school as a teacher and a pupil. I also told her that I had got my first summer-job in a big sports-shop in the city center. That is where I next met her.

I was a young and inexperienced shop assistant in the bike and sports department. It was the summer when the multi-geared sports-bikes got to be the fashion. They were in very short supply, which got me mixed up in a rather difficult situation. A beautiful ladies model had been reserved for somebody until a certain date. Just before closing time of that very day a nice young woman came into the shop and said that she would like to have a bike just like that. We only had this particular bike. The reservation was still valid, but as the evening was already late and the girl so nice and needy I decided after a moment’s doubt to sell it to her. She got what she wanted and I got the blame. Next morning the boss of the store came down on me and clearly let me know of my stupidity. The bike had been reserved for somebody important. I was scared and humbly took what was given, I could not defend myself.

This is where Maija once appeared. When I saw her I was shocked as if by electricity. Her presence drew my trembling person to her. She wanted to buy a pair of white jogging shoes. I chose and fitted her with a pair and acted as if I were under a spell. We agreed to meet that evening after work in the park by the sports-field.

I left from work, walked excitedly through the streets and tunnels. The field was visible, by it a big tree, and under the tree there was Maija waiting for me. We embraced and kissed, squeezed and embraced, I felt like being far away from it all. It felt good to touch, my body liked it, but my heart was not all there.

We left the tree and crossed the wide field and sat down on the grass beside an old gravestone. And there it all went on. I squeezed her blue-veined breasts with pleasure and dislike, I stroked her crotch, we helped each other to get excited. We did all this as it was all there was to do. We were tools of love for each other. Finally we got enough and went back to our homes.

I got home. I climbed up the staircase, opened the door and stepped into the living room, where the rest of the family were watching television. I took a white chair and sat on it backwards so that my hands rested on the back of the chair. Father asked me where I had been. I said that I had been to town. My hands smelled of Maija, of her perfume.

Some time went by. On an evening after work I was sitting alone at home. The phone rang. It was Maija. She said that she was phoning me with her pants wet, she wanted me to screw her. She asked whether I wanted, too. I felt odd, doubted and could not say a thing. The whole set up felt awkward. After a long while I forced myself to say that I wanted to screw her. She gave a sigh of satisfaction; the declaration of love was mutual. She told me that her friend had a flat where we could meet in peace. She had already asked her and the following Saturday at two o’clock would suit her friend. “Is it all right for you?” she asked. ” Oh yes, sure, sure.” Maija gave me the address and said that the best way to get there was to take the tram and go all the way to the end-station and then walk a short distance to the flat. “By the way, you will buy rubbers, won’t you?” asked Maija. ” Yes, oh yes.” Then I heard the rattling of keys from the front door. Somebody was coming home. “Now I have to stop.” I put the phone down. Father came home.

I bought a packet of rubbers from a shop I had never visited before. They did not recognize me. I tried them on at home, filled one with water until it splashed in the bathtub, filled another with my flesh and work it did. It was easy to put on and held the juices well inside. During the week I used a whole packet for practicing, so that on Saturday on the way to meet Maija I had to buy another.

It was an overcast summer’s day. I took a train down town, walked across the main street into a co-op. I bought two little packets, one of rubbers and another of chewing gum. I pushed the gum in my mouth and the rubbers in my pocket, and went to a nearby stop to wait for the right tram.

The tram came. I stepped in. I paid the conductor and sat down. It was an old tram. It rattled and swayed heavily within my excited head. I was going to screw.

After a long while the tram curved to the end-station by the sea. I stepped out and thought about Maija’s advice. I walked up the street. It should be the third building on the right. I walked to the main door and saw the right name beside it. I climbed the stairs to the first floor, rang the doorbell and waited. An unknown woman opened the door. She turned and shouted that here he is now. Then Maija appeared. I was in the right place.

It was a small flat. The only room opened off the tiny entrance hall. On the right were a bed and also some living room furniture; a window was straight ahead and a little cooking alcove on the left. The sun was now shining in. Maija’s friend bustled around for a little while, then dressed and said that she would be gone for a couple of hours. “You’ll surely get on without me,” she shouted when leaving. We were left alone, Maija and I.

I sat on the bed. Maija started undressing. I stood up and undressed myself. We lay down on the bed to feel each other. Our mouths touched, our bodies quivered under the touch of eager hands, our lust was rising. Soon Maija got her first mouthful, spat it away and we went on. I got hard again, and soon Maija led me onto my back and stuck my cock into her. It was covered with rubber and thus safe. The cock was milked, back and forth, up and down. Maija sighed and gasped and I worked like a man, I did what I was meant to do. I sucked her tits and rocked my cock. It got harder, it got bigger and stronger until it could not take any more, it splashed into her rocking sheath. The cries and sighs died away, my cock shrank away into the rubber.
After having recovered we got up, washed ourselves and dressed. We sat down on the bed and even talked a bit. Soon her friend came back and we went out, leaving the owner of the flat behind. The friends changed knowing looks when they parted.

We walked down the street towards the tram-stop and the sea. There was a stone jetty by the sea. We sat down on it and watched ducks rolling on the waves. Maija held my hand as she had also done while we walked down. I felt strange. Something was wrong. I was empty, not joyous nor happy. We had ridden on our lust and excitement and arrived in a strange haven. I tried to explain my feelings to Maija who did not really understand. She was satisfied; she had got what she had wanted. There was nothing else for her to ask.

In my lonely anxiety I had for years dreamed about the marvels of screwing, of the hard and the wet swinging together. Now I had screwed as one should and that was not enough. The swinging did not take us near enough each other, something was plainly missing. I said to Maija with tears in my eyes, “I do not feel that I love you”. The marvels of fucking were not enough for me. It was a hard thing to say, I knew and saw how it hurt her. I had to listen to my feelings. They were all I had.  We got up after a sad while. I stepped onto a tram and Maija went to see her friend again.

Next week I got a letter. There was a dark blue card folded by Maija. She had glued on to it three yellow stripes that slanted to the right. And she had written inside: How do you feel now? The message made me tremble, it confused me. The wet and impatient dreams of nights and days fought with my own understanding. I wanted to screw, but I could not as it did not feel right. I wanted to meet Maija, but I didn’t want to meet her only for screwing. I was left trembling in my conflict.

We met once more. In a little cafe near the school. It was autumn, she was working already. I waited outside and our lips touched when we met. Maija grasped my hand. She was uncertain, unhappy and dressed in black. I was uncertain, but I got more strength while we drank our teas. She was somewhere far away. She wanted and needed me; she wanted me to screw with her. She had already been disappointed in love. “Why couldn’t we meet and fuck every now and then? It did feel good to you, didn’t it?” “It did, it did, but something was missing. I do not love you, I don’t want to go on with this, I can’t.” We drank our teas, ate our buns, spilled the tears of departure and stepped on the street. We walked down to the main street, on to a tram-stop. Our lips touched for the last time. Maija stayed waiting for her tram. I walked onwards.”

After this encounter with his first woman this young man, or rather a boy, felt that he had gained all that could be gained from sexuality. He turned around 180 degrees and concentrated upon the spiritual aspects of life which eventually led him to another kind of teacher of religion.