Eleven Minutes
From Maria's diary, on a slack night at the Copacabana:
After all the time I've spent with the people who come here, I have reached the conclusion that sex has come to be used as some kind of drug: in order to escape reality, to forget about problems, to relax. And like all drugs, this is a harmful and destructive practice.
If a person wants to take drugs, in the form of sex or whatever, that's their problem; the consequences of their actions will be better or worse depending on the choices that make. But if we are talking in terms of making progress in life, we must understand that "good enough" is very different from "best."
Contrary to what my clients think, sex cannon be practiced at any time. We all have a clock inside us, and in order to make love, the hands on both clocks have to be pointing to the same hour at the same time. That doesnbh other need to adjust the hands of their clocks, with patience and perseverance, games and "theatrical representations," until they realize that making love is more than just an encounter, it is a genital "embrace."
Everything is important. If you live your life intensely, you experience pleasure all the time and donbundance, because the glass of wine is so full that it overflows naturally, because it is inevitable, because you are responding to the call of life, because you are responding to the call of life, because at that moment, and only at that moment, you have allowed yourself to lose control.
P.S. I have just re-read what I wrote. Good grief! I'm getting way too intellectual!
Paulo Coelho is one of my favorite writers. I've enjoyed several of his books and find them to be pithy and thought provoking. Insightful. And Eleven Minutes is no exception. While the subject-matter is more graphic than usual, his depth is still there and the book is magnificent. |
