Energetic Enlightenment

Finding Your Truth Through Your Body

Searching For Power Is A Turn-On

Posted By on February 27, 2015 in Articles | 0 comments

… The film started. The moment came; I reached over and took her hand in mine. She recoiled with dissatisfaction and dismay. I was crushed… 

According to Jack Morin, author of the book The Erotic Mind, one of the “Four Cornerstones of Eroticism” is “searching for power”. He says… “Power dynamics–that is, being submissive or dominant–becomes co-assembled with sexual desire in many folks.”

Sometimes, when we lose our power, or give it away, it really turns us on. Even when it feels like the bottom is dropping out, and we judge our sensations and emotions as “bad” or “awful”, we are still turned on. Erotic satisfaction is from the actual process of searching for power, not necessarily finding it or taking it. Some of us give our power away and refuse to take it back; we get turned-on by losing it, or giving it away, and experiencing the search.

Sometimes we manifest challenges that suck away our power or motivate us to just give it away. Unless we are steadfast in our mission, and know who we are, these challenges can potentially deal a death blow to the things we’ve created.

In business, the way we deal with power dynamics has everything to do with our ego. The world also measures our financial success or failure. If we want to be successful in business, we must always control the power. Sometimes we control it by strategically allowing it to be taken away (or at least people think they’ve taken it). We cleverly choreograph this apparent abdication of power so we can achieve a higher goal and end game.

Sometimes, especially when our organization is achieving new pinnacles of success, people try to shoot us down. Jealousy and self-loathing propels many people to tear down what others have built up. Many successful entrepreneurs, and all the good they have done, have fallen because they were unable to withstand attacks and hold on to their power.


During my high school years, I attended a religious-based coeducational boarding academy. As a hormone-driven student, I was ruled by the strong hand of God [reads religious manipulation and suppression]. I was taught that I did not have the power; only God had the power. I considered myself to be a “good Christian boy”; for some time I was submissive. When I questioned the whole religion supposition, and searched for my power, I got turned-on.

Those who controlled us did not want us to be turned-on. Sexual repression played a big part in controlling us and keeping us from finding our power. Touching was strictly prohibited; if caught, you would be publicly shamed and your social privileges would be revoked for a defined period of time. We were furthered threatened with the promise that our transgressions would “go on our permanent record.”

As part of our closed-community social activities, every Saturday night was a heavily supervised date night. Upperclassman were allowed to walk to the girls dormitory and escort their dates to the school’s gymnasium. Underclassman were only allowed to meet their dates on the steps of the gymnasium. Except for the occasional roller-skating program that featured the highly-coveted “couples skate” segments, we were never allowed to hold our date’s hand. Not ever. If we got caught holding hands, we would be disciplined as if we were caught making out.


As I reconciled my natural urges against my prohibitions [reads searched for my power], and even as a freshman, I knew who I was. I loved girls. I loved all the girls. My turn-on motivated me to hone the fine art of sneaking and getting away with things.


On some Saturday nights, “Travel Films” were our entertainment; this was pretty boring stuff yet everyone was usually excited when films were announced. Although the lights always remained on in the rear of the gymnasium, and despite the ever-vigilant faculty, film nights were great; they gave us a chance to hold hands and sometimes sneak a kiss. The gymnasiums middle-seat section, not illuminated by the rear lights or the lights of the screen, was the best place to avoid the searching eyes of the faculty.


One day, it was announced that there was going to be a film for Saturday’s date night. I was stoked! I made sure that I had a date. Not having a regular girlfriend, I asked a timid-yet-attractive girl to be my date (we’ll call her Mary). She said “yes”. I was excited. As I met her on the gymnasium steps, I treated her with respect while plotting my scheme to hold her hand. The film started. The moment came; I reached over and took her hand in mine. She recoiled with dissatisfaction and dismay. I was crushed. At the end of the evening we said our goodbyes and I watched her disappear into the darkness; she headed towards the girl’s dormitory.


The next morning, one of my friends approached me between classes. She said, “all the girls were talking about you in the dorm last night. Mary said you were ‘oversexed’ and that you tried to hold her hand during the film”. For me, the bottom dropped out; I felt as if my life was over. I created the worst story I could imagine; I visualized all 175 girls crowding into one room and judging me and my sinful-sexual-affliction. I walked away from that conversation depressed, defeated, and worst of all, I knew I was a lustful sinner.

Hours turned into days and days turned into weeks; I could barley show up for meals and classes. I thought, “How can I do this for three more years? They all think I’m bad and I’ll never get another date.”


I don’t really remember how it happened. Somehow I started to logically process what had happened. I came to the realization that I could never control what all-those-girls thought of me. I concluded that the likelihood of all-those-girls talking about me was pretty slim; I wasn’t even one of the popular guys. I knew that I was responsible for all of my feelings and that nobody was going to rescue me from my tailspin. Related to all that hand-holding stuff, I came to grips with who I was. I admitted that I liked myself. I owned my desire to hold hands with girls; I was committed to finding girls who liked that too. Regardless of what others thought.


Depression rolled away and I walked to my next class with my head held high. Knowing who I was, I looked all the girls straight in the eye. I was unafraid of being seen; I was the guy who liked girls and liked holding their hands.

Karen, an attractive upperclassman, stopped on the sidewalk to talk to me. Because I had let go of my destructive story, I saw her receptiveness. “I hear that there is going to be another film this Saturday night”, I said. “Would you like to be my date?”

“Yes”, she replied. She leaned in and whispered, “Do you think we can sit in the middle seats?”

That was the moment I took my power back. Weeks before I had given most of it away by giving credence to the judgments of just a few girls. I gave away the rest of my power by creating an untrue story that promoted my worst fears. I spent way too much time worrying about what they thought of me instead of focusing on what I knew about myself.

During my twenty-four years of corporate life, and in the years since I dropped out of that world, whenever people start gunning for me and trying to tear me down, I remember how I gave up my power to all-those-girls. The funny part is, they never asked for my power… I just handed it to them without them ever knowing it. By owning who I was, I took my power back… and they knew it.

~I send Unconditional Love To All Who Will Receive It Unconditionally~

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Delicious
  • LinkedIn
  • StumbleUpon
  • Add to favorites
  • Email
  • RSS

Share and Enjoy

Leave a Reply