I am indebted to Anais Nin and to Susan Franzheim who inspired this
I was sitting down to have lunch with my best friend. We hadn't seen
each other in a while, way too long to deprive myself of the presence
of and of the gift of this relationship, I was thinking as
I arranged my napkin on my lap.
We talked amiably and animatedly, joyed to be together again. He
paused, a forkful of salad almost to his mouth, and said "So, Laurence,
how's your love life going these days? Are you getting laid?".
I blinked in surprise. I can't believe he asked me that I
thought. But it wasn't the question itself which surprised me. It was
the way he asked it. It was completely devoid of intonation.
This wasn't boy talk. It was as
as "So, Laurence, did you have oats for
A slight feeling of awkwardness, a second or two of flushed cheeks
embarrassment passed. Then, quickly warming to the opportunity of
actually having this conversation with him, I said smiling
"Actually no - it's been a dry spell.".
He smiled back, finished his salad, chewing each mouthful slowly and
carefully. Then he said "The dry spell's got nothing to do
with it. You're not getting laid because you haven't scheduled
Like so many of his ideas, this idea of scheduling getting
laid intrigued me immediately. Even though the idea of
putting such delights into my calendar had never occurred
to me before, that's not what intrigued me. Even though the notion of
planning ahead for such a joy had not crossed my mind
before, that's not what got me. Even though the thought of rearranging
all my notions of an activity I'd considered to be designated only as
an on-the-spur-of-the-moment activity into an agenda
like a business meeting, that's not what interested me either.
What intrigued me,
what got me,
what interested me about this idea of his, his erotica on
schedule, was in order to take it on, I'd have to give
up having it be something that only happens spontaneously ie
by itself. Instead, I would have to intentionally bring forth who I
really am into my love life.
To the degree I've taken control of my time, I've taken control
of my life. When I get that, very quickly the myth of there's
not enough time is vanquished. What the President of the
United States, Paul McCartney, the United Auto Workers
union member on the assembly line, a homeless man on the street corner,
the Archbishop of Canterbury, a worker in a Bangladesh rice paddy, and
Laurence have in common is we all have twenty four hours in a day. It's
not true there's not enough time. Twenty four hours a day is one
hundred percent all the time there is, and we each have all of it.
What's true is there's not enough time allocation. And time
allocation, it seems to me, is little more than asserting how I'll
spend my time.
Lunch continued as we spoke. Dessert came. I saw bringing who I
really am to bear on my time is the same as bringing who I
really am to bear on my love life. I saw I'm willing to
schedule a business meeting even when I'd prefer not engaging in this
activity. Yet I'd never considered scheduling getting laid even though
I'd prefer engaging in this activity.
And then I saw something else, something which gave his new way of
looking at erotica on schedule an entirely new spotlight.
I saw who we really are, what our true nature is
comprised of is everything that's sweet, all that's delectable, all the
best of what's attractive, tender, soft and delicious. Indeed who we
really are, in a most profound way when held in the appropriate
context, is exactly what makes erotica erotic! Scheduling
it suddenly made sense. Scheduling it suddenly became the access to
bringing it forth.
"Smart" I mused, smiling at him. "Very smart.". He smiled
back saying nothing, his crystal steel blue eyes locked on mine, the
ice cubes in his glass clinking as he took a sip of water.