On Rats and Lovers and Celibacy

 

Twenty four hours ago I saw a rat stealing from a busy sidewalk in Kuta, scampering away after taking bites of a cracker left in the middle of a small square basket where Balinese Hindus place incense, flowers, fruit and other food (and sometimes money, in market stalls and in taxis) as blessings, several times a day, on footpaths and road corners. (One of the Gods they worship is Ganesh, who used a rat as his steed). Then I arrived back in Auckland, drove back to my house, quickly offloaded the teenagers to their father who wanted to see them on Christmas Day too, lay down on the couch to recover from two overnight flights, and the first thing I see is a rat, slowly sniffing around my lounge room. I'm not sure if its lucky in some cultures to see two rats in different countries during the day, when they are usually nocturnal animals, but I'm taking it as a sign.

I'm not sure why I'm seeing rats at exactly the time I am making choices about sexuality, especially as they are such voracious breeders. Or perhaps this is why the rats are important, since I am focused on having a year off sex, to focus on myself and be celibate, when the rest of the world around me will be breeding like rats (or at least having more sex than I am). Initially I was thinking I'd do a year of it in 2014 and see how I went but then I decided if I wasn't having sex with M next year I may as well call it quits earlier. We went to Bali together as friends and it was a lovely holiday with the kids etc and I think he was hoping to sway me from my decision. But the holiday just confirmed that I need time away from being a partner, that eighteen years of marriage has changed me, and that sex was part of the problem - and just might be part of the solution, if I can just sort myself out.

So, from 1 December 2013 to 1 December 2014 I am not going to have sex with another human being. This feels like a great decision. Not because I don't love sex (I do, I always have) but because I want to give myself the gift of space and time and recovery. And I want to see if there's anything in it that's worth writing home about. You're welcome to travel with me on this journey through a new landscape called celibacy - as long as you're happy that we just remain friends.