The people of Ramesses’ Egypt were very much in touch with the “nature” in “human nature”. They had no quarrel with nature, and they even held such acts as the yearly flood of the Nile as sacramental mileposts that measured out their lives and renewed the land. They liked their wine and music, they sang the praises of love and laughter, and they looked for any excuse to celebrate.
These Egyptians idolized their cats, seeing in their quiet dignity mixed inextricably with a lust for life a model of a life well lived. The death of the family cat was nothing less than the loss of a child. The lifeless body was taken to the embalmers for mummification as the spirit was bid a swift and pleasant journey to Mother Bast where all wounds are healed and all tears wiped away.
Come forward a few centuries and a few thousand miles to the people of Victoria’s England. These people were at war with nature. Their proper deportment was as people who never urinated, never defecated, never farted, and never ever had sex. Except, of course, that they did it strictly off the record.
There were mostly black cats in Victorian England, but nearly all had at least a small white patch of fur somewhere on their body. It was just out of living memory that the gene pool of all-black cats had been wiped out in an epidemic of witch hysteria. No longer reviled as familiars, cats were still regarded as the epitome of insatiable lust. The joie de vivre that touched Egyptian fancy horrified the Victorian mindset. The unquestioning loyalty and dependence of the dog had a place in the rigid class-conscious society while the cat’s contribution to popular culture was naming the “cathouse”, a place where men paid to do things men never did…except when they did it off the record.
During our Sandstone days we made our peace with the cat. Like the Egyptians of the Two Kingdoms, we embraced the nature in human nature, removed the masks that hid our instinctual heritage, and encouraged one another to claim their rights and uphold their responsibilities in unleashing the inner tiger. Sex is a socially integrating force of great scope and magnitude, completely overlooked by our popular culture. Repressing our sexuality only stalls the process of enlightenment and makes the problem worse. Your heritage is powerful; run if you like, but it will follow you wherever you go. You cannot defeat it as the Victorians sought, but you can embrace it and sail on its wings as the Egyptians did.
Some members of our society have turned into themselves and asked the hard questions relative to “how can I contribute” to a better and more productive lifestyle? Thus, realize that our sexuality has far greater benefits than only procreation. It is imperative that we stop repressing our sexuality and open ourselves to kinesthetic communication. This mode involves touch, body contact, and most importantly, sex, which fills our need for intimacy.
It has been over 40 years since the Sexual Revolution happened and we are falling far short of owning our sexuality and progressing towards a new psychology of being, blessed to be a free thinking and independent soul.
But far too many members of society carry on with business as usual on automatic pilot with their focus on Procreation, which continues us down that destructive path of population explosion and ultimately ends in human extinction. We can do better.