The Art of Orgasmic Meditation: pt. ii

(Note: This is a follow-up to this post.)

The first time I OMed, I was hyper aware of the sunlight filtering in through the windows of the bedroom. It seemed to be beaming directly onto the space between my butterflied-open legs: my vulva.

I remember thinking it ironic that Portland is relatively dreary around this time of the year, & on the one day that I needed some forgiving, dismal cloud cover the sky was perpetually bright.

I looked up at the ceiling, feeling as though I was moments away from being given a gynecological exam. I was so exposed, so vulnerable.

“Are you ready to begin?” he asked. His voice was gentle, right above the softest whisper, yet it cut into my thoughts like piece of jagged glass.

I swallowed & took in a deep breath. “I think so,” I replied nervously, & then in the back of my mind I thought, How can one prepare for something they’re not sure they fully understand?

“Okay,” he said, his voice still gentle. “I’m going to stroke you now.”

What orgasmic meditation looks like

Before I found my legs butterflied-open, before I had even begun to venture down the path of even wanting to try orgasmic meditation, I had to know everything about it. Namely, its rituals, mechanics, & semantics.

In Slow Sex, the word “orgasm” takes on a totally different definition. The idea of OM being the practice of a fifteen orgasm is a bit misconstrued. It’s really fifteen moments of honing in on your pleasure senses.

Nicole Daedone explains:

“Whereas once we thought of orgasm as an ‘intensely pleasurable moment in time, which, if done right, provides satisfaction & release,’ suddenly it can also be an ‘intensely pleasurable period of time, which, regardless of outcome, offers the opportunity for revolutionary connection & transformational enjoyment.’ The former definition is the more straightforward male model of orgasm. … When we OM, we also get to know the more female model.”

After reading that one small paragraph, I could feel an entire weight of expectation & obligation within my sexuality lift from my shoulders. This version of  orgasm is undeniably more sustainable, & with it I became more prepared to experience OM without baggage or presumption.

In practice, this is what orgasmic meditation looks like:

“The woman removes her clothes from the waist down. She lies down on a bed or the floor & butterflies her legs open. Her partner sits to her left, with his left leg over her belly & his right leg under her knees, where he can both see & access her genitals. Once in position, he looks at her genitals & describes in a few words what he sees. He then applies lube to his left forefinger & starts to stroke the left [upper quadrant] of her clitoris using a very light touch. He continues to stroke for fifteen minutes, during which time both partners place their attention on the point of connection between them. When the fifteen minutes is up, he grounds the sexual energy that has built up in her body by pressing the palm of one hand firmly against her clit for a few seconds. Then each partner shares a “frame,” or a description of one particularly memorable moment of sensation they felt while OMing.”

I don’t quite recall what the frame was for my first session, but I do remember feeling terrified when it came time for Jonathan to describe what he saw when he looked at my vulva before we began.

I almost wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to know what he saw; that he could duly note his impressions in his own mind & keep them to himself.

It’s silly to think about this now, especially knowing how many times (hundreds, likely) he’d seen my lady bits prior to even hearing Nicole Daedone’s name. This wasn’t new territory for either of us, yet the sheer idea of him paying that much careful attention to my vulva made me want to close my legs & flee the room.

What if, when asked to truly see me, he doesn’t like what he sees? What if what he describes about my vulva is so grotesque that it scares us both away from ever wanting to become intimate again?

In the midst of my panicky thoughts, he began to speak with truth & love precisely what his eyes were looking upon. With a tiny smile on his face, he chose honest words to illustrate my sex; words that were so exacting, so beautifully honest that I listened with great awe, as if meeting myself for the first time.

And when he finished, his eyes met mine. I then let go of the breath I was holding & wiped cold tears from my cheeks.

(A few days later, I would be moved enough to put a mirror between my legs & see my vulva for the first time in over ten years.)

It’s apparent to me that OM isn’t simply about the act of stroking. It’s not even solely about pleasure. It’s about connection, mindfulness, & being reminded of your sacred root.

Still, the stroke itself is pretty potent.

Through stroking, we are coaxing out the source of our sexual energy. We become reestablished as turned on, carnal creatures. Our erotic lives transform into spiritual bliss. We become whole, & the entire world feels electrified with pleasure.

There is so much healing power in our ability to touch.

But touch doesn’t have to rest exclusively within the act of orgasmic meditation. We have the ability to touch with intention outside of the pages of a bestselling book. We can stoke our own flames with mindfulness. You just have to make the time (be it fifteen minutes or one hour) & forge a loyal relationship with your sex.

I say all of this as an offering — a challenge, perhaps — for you to create your own orgasmic meditation practice. Especially to those who find themselves in unique circumstances* that don’t quite fit the mould of Nicole Daedone’s OM.

This practice, as she has laid it out, isn’t for everyone (I alluded to this in the beginning of my first post), though Daedone tries to accomodate all people, genders, & orientations.

Even still, if orgasmic meditation appeals to you, I encourage you to read her book — doing your best to overlook the hetero-focused language — & customize your own practice, one that better suits you.

The primary version of OM suits Jonathan & I for now.

In the month that we’ve been practicing orgasmic meditation, I’ve seen a major shift in the way my sexual energy is manifested. Whereas before it was shut away with dam-like resilience, it is now flowing freely with a bit of wild abandon.

I am turned on. There is nothing on this earth that has given me this gift quite like orgasmic meditation.

Regardless of my opinions about Nicole Daedone’s methods of delivering this practice, or how seemingly exclusive OM is to the sexually/genderly “complicated,” I’ll say this:

She’s certainly on to something.


If you have any questions about my experience with orgasmic meditation, feel free to ask them below in the comments section.

Nothing is too personal.



*cismale, intersex, transgender, single or non-committed, non-monogamous, gay, queer, genderqueer, asexual, & so on.

© 2018 Ev'Yan Whitney. All rights reserved.