Conversations with my Hippie Guru

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Jackie is an old hippie. She lived in a commune for years, now she has a small farm near the commune where she grows vegetables and raises chickens. She has two lovers, one of whom she lives with. The other one lives on the commune.

After being a born-again hippie as a teenager myself, I ultimately rejected many of the trappings of hippiedom. I don’t think good vibes will save the world, nor do I think we’ll destroy the war machine by living in the woods, growing organic food and having lots of sex. But I like a lot the way so many hippies, especially of the 60’s generation, really worked hard at re-imagining how life should ideally be lived.

Even if their broader ideas about how to solve global problems may need a lot of work, their ideas about raising children, open relationships, living on the land, in community, etc. — all of these things are very attractive to me, even though I have never developed a fondness for playing in the dirt. Or for smelling like I spent the day doing that.

I visited Jackie recently on the farm, and we were having a good time getting caught up about each other’s lives. As is generally the case with authentic hippies, Jackie is very thoughtful, and a very active listener.

“How’s your love life?” she asked.

Of course I knew she’d ask that question, and she didn’t wait long before she did. We’ve known each other for quite a while. She’s really one of a very select group of people I feel comfortable with answering that question honestly.

“Still got a woman in every port?” she prodded. I think I was taking too long to answer. “Meet anyone new on this last tour?”

I travel around the world, playing music for a living. That alone is cause for a certain amount of envy on the parts of a fair number of guys, and others. It can be hard enough to admit that to many people. But to mention that I also have lovers around the world, I just tend to keep that to myself.

Many people would think I’m a terrible womanizer. Sometimes I think I am, too. Others would just be extremely jealous. Or both. I’d be really jealous, too, if I weren’t me. I’d probably accuse myself of being a womanizer just as a form of emotional self-defense. There must be something wrong with having that much fun.

“I was thinking about some things you said some time ago before this last trip to Australia,” I said. “About visualizing what you want. Sometimes I think that stuff is just New Age nonsense, but then other times I think it really works.”

“Something worked?” Jackie smiled wryly.

“Well, I was getting really tired of leaving a trail of broken hearts all over the world. Women I liked would say they were into polyamory, or at least that they were cool with the idea. But then in reality it would always be like, if we couldn’t at least be in a primary relationship, they’d end up feeling used and the relationship would end fairly quickly.”

“That’s sad,” Jackie interjected. “And you were trying to be clear with them, and not lead them to believe maybe if they were really exceptionally good at sucking your cock, they might win you over to the monogamous life?” She laughed at her own question, fairly raucously.

I smiled. “I don’t think so. But who knows. I think oftentimes people just want to think they’re OK with something. Or they want to say what they think you want to hear.”

“So you tried a different tack?”

“Yes. It occurred to me that if I only went out with women who were already happily in a clearly open relationship, and I would be like lover

or
, then maybe things avcılar üniversiteli escort would go better. So then I visualized meeting such a woman. And then on my last visit to Australia, I met two of them!”

“And that went better?”

“Yes. Except that they live in Australia.”

“Maybe you should try visualizing one closer to home,” Jackie suggested.

“Sounds dangerous,” I replied.

Jackie knew that I live with my lover. My wife, in fact. She also knew that although it’s an open marriage, it’s very much DADT (Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell). So hooking up with people closer to home could get unnecessarily complicated.

“Sometimes,” Jackie said, now truly taking on the role of elder adviser and confidant, “it’s good to just imagine who you’re looking for, regardless of how complicated or impossible it might seem.”

“Like how impossible it might seem to find a single person that embodies all the sorts of things I want?” I asked, for the purposes of clarification.

“Yes. I know you’ve told me before that you long ago gave up on trying to find everything you’re looking for in a single person. That’s good. That’s part of what’s so healthy about polyamory, at least potentially. Variety is a very good thing, though it might take some getting used to.” At this, she chuckled, perhaps having a memory which she doesn’t bother sharing. “But what if you were to just imagine who this woman would be?”

I didn’t know the line of questioning would go in this direction, but I liked it. “She’d be full of contradictions, that’s for sure,” I said.

“Like she’d be in a relationship but also available for you?”

“That’s the least of it. She also wouldn’t live in Australia. She’d live somewhere closer. Maybe even in Portland. She’d be deeply in love with me, but she’d be happy if she only saw me for a few hours, a couple times a week.”

“That’s a contradiction, for sure, but far from an impossible one. Maybe you’d meet someone else who’s happily ensconced in a DADT relationship, but wants something else nearby that’s discreet.”

“I hadn’t really thought of that possibility,” I said, in all honesty.

“Ha!” Jackie laughed heartily again. “Sometimes even the most apparently liberated guys just can’t imagine that a woman might be equally liberated. Why wouldn’t there be a woman who wants exactly that?”

I was embarrassed, but happy. She always says useful stuff like that.

“What else?” Jackie asked.

“So many other contradictory things.” I thought for a few seconds. “She’d live closer than Australia. Closer than Scandinavia, too. But probably she’d have to be Scandinavian.”

Jackie frowned slightly and backed up a few inches, looking at me with a mock sternness. “Do you have a blonde fetish that I didn’t know about?”

“Along with all of my other fetishes?” I laughed. “That would be ridiculously limiting, eh?”

She looked relieved. “Why Scandinavian?”

“Well, she wouldn’t necessarily have to be Scandinavian.” Trying to clarify. “But she should be athletic, and gorgeous. But she shouldn’t be arrogant or full of herself. Good-looking American women are impossible narcissists, by and large. Not like Scandinavians. In Scandinavia — Denmark especially — there are so many athletic, stunningly beautiful women that it’s just totally normal, so nobody is full of themselves just because they look good.”

“Ah yeah, I got it. Good-looking but not arrogant. What else?”

“Youthful but wise. Playful but confident. Innocent avrupa yakası escort but somewhat cynical.”

“Sounds like you’re describing a well-rounded personality to me, dear. What else?”

I was sure that what I was looking for was pretty much impossible, and I just hadn’t fleshed out the impossible-ness of it enough yet.

“She should exude self-confidence and be very worldly and knowledgeable, but in bed she should desperately want to serve me, do my bidding, with no regard to her own pleasure. How’s that for contradictory?” I was again feeling a bit embarrassed by my desire for the impossible.

Jackie wasn’t fazed. “Sounds like you’re describing a sub to me. There are lots of them out there. Not all of them are self-confident or worldly types, necessarily. But there are probably about as much of a percentage of subs who are like that, as compared with non-subs. These things may be contradictory in some senses, but they’re far from mutually exclusive.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” I said, in a reflective state of mind. “It’s not that someone can’t have some contradictions. But all the ones I want them to have…?”

“Forget about that. Just keep describing the fantasy,” Jackie instructed.

“OK, well, another thing is I really like petite women. I don’t care what color their hair or skin is. But small and fit, yum, big turn-on. I also like to fuck a lot.”

This made Jackie laugh again, and shoot me a knowing look.

“The problem is,” I continued, “that I pretty much end up destroying all the petite women I ever get into serious relationships with.”

“Destroying them?” she asked, perhaps thinking I was exaggerating in some way.

“Well,” I said, preparing to clarify that last statement, “either they know their limits and they make sure I know them, in which case it’s all pretty frustrating for me, having to be very gentle and careful all the time. Or, they want me to fuck them the way I want to fuck them. In which case they end up crying, hurting a lot, getting bladder infections, and in one case, she actually ended up in the fucking hospital!”

“Oh yes, Anna.” Jackie remembered me telling her about Anna, and the kidney infection she got. She knew that I had figured it was no coincidence that she got the infection immediately after we had just spent several weeks fucking to my heart’s content. She was such a petite little submissive, she so desperately wanted me to do anything I wanted to her. That all just made me want to fuck her constantly, which ended up being a very bad idea.

“You fucked her in the hospital bathroom, too, didn’t you?” Jackie remembered.

I looked sheepish.

“OK, anyway, you like little, and compliant. But maybe not so little and compliant that she’ll break easily?”

“That seems about right,” I replied. “But I do love to see the pain on their faces when I’m fucking them too hard for too long. That’s a huge turn-on.”

“Oh, it is, isn’t it? Now I’m getting very excited.” Jackie crossed her legs and looked eager for me to keep talking.

I realized I felt suddenly a bit relieved. I still feel guilty that I like to hurt my lovers like that. Why would I like that? But I do. And I forget oftentimes that there are lots of women who like being on the other end of that strange equation, too.

“You travel for a living,” Jackie said. Trying to be helpful, she suggested that I probably want to meet a woman who likes to travel, too.

“Yes,” I replied. “It would be very nice if they liked to travel. And bağdat caddesi escort if they have time to travel. But at the same time, if they have purpose in life, and aren’t just directionless youth of some kind, I like purpose. And if you have purpose you often don’t have so much free time.”

“You’re getting all practical again,” she scolded. “Stop that. Besides, you like Scandinavians, and I hear they all get two-month paid vacations every year,” she added, helpfully. “You also play music for a living. Should your lover be a musician?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” I said, reflexively. Thinking a bit more, I added, “but she should be a good musician. One who can perform with me, and make things sound better, not worse. But if she’s not a musician, that’s OK. She should have something she likes to do on the road, though. Otherwise she’ll get bored. That’s what tends to happen.”

“Someone who doesn’t get bored much, and can find a way to really enjoy life on the road would be important,” Jackie agreed. “What else?”

“Well, she needs to be sane. That’s very important. Not crazy, and not volatile. Emotionally stable.”

“All month long?” Jackie asked.

“Well, a little PMS is one thing. I’m not looking for an android or something. But definitely not bipolar or chronically depressed or wildly moody so that you don’t know when she’s going to flip out next.”

“I know you’ve had some experience with women like that, eh?” Jackie had met one of my past lovers, the German, Anke.

“Yeah, you warned me about Anke before I had really realized she was like that, eh? I seem to have a serious blind spot for charismatic lunatics.”

“We all have our blind spots,” Jackie said, reassuringly. “Anything else?”

I thought a minute. “I guess that’s about it.”

“Well,” Jackie said, “let’s try to sum this up. First of all, I’d say that none of this is unrealistic. If you want to be a proper hippie,” she smiled, pausing, letting the notion sink in before continuing. “If you want to be a proper hippie, you need to just visualize what you want, and stop thinking that you’ll never find it, or that it’s totally unrealistic. Also,” again she paused for emphasis, “you need to get over this dom guilt thing you’ve got going. Subs want doms. That may be only 10% of the population or whatever, but when you find a good sub, she’ll be very happy that you want to hurt her, so stop worrying about that! So let’s try to sum this up.”

Jackie walked across the room and grabbed a notepad and pen from a desk, then returned to her chair in front of me.

“You’re looking for someone who is mentally healthy, physically healthy, small but not too breakable, really down with open relationships and fine with DADT. She’s an enthusiastic sub, gets off on pain and denial and pleasing her dom. She’s self-confident in the world, likes to travel and has lots of interests that go well with traveling.” As Jackie recited this list of characteristics, she jotted them all down on her notepad.

“Fuck,” I said, “when you put it all that way, it doesn’t sound all that crazy…”

“I’m glad you could get over your guilt complex long enough to notice that!” Jackie laughed uproariously again, and then added, “she should also be OK with herpes, too, no?”

“Fuck, I almost forgot about that. Yes. And I’m tired of giving women herpes, so she should ideally already have it.”

“I guess that eliminates about 75% of the potential fish in your ocean, but it’s better not to think about the numbers.” She added, and she’s OK with herpes on the notepad.

She tore off the page and handed it to me. “Here’s your mantra. Take a minute at some point each day to review it. And then report back to your woo-woo guru at this time next year and tell me how it’s going.”

“Thank you,” I said as I put the paper in the front pocket of my jeans for safekeeping. “Your turn, Jackie. How’s your love life?”

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