Is Free Flying Better than Sex?  

warmandsexy52 64M
7186 posts
8/29/2005 1:35 am

Last Read:
7/21/2006 12:49 pm

Is Free Flying Better than Sex?


There’s a slim chance that someone reading this will have experienced free-flying, sometimes called foot-launched flight ‒ hang gliding and paragliding. I’m what you’d call a pretty average paraglider pilot, a weekend flier, and certainly no sky god. In Britain something like one in ten thousand people are regular free fliers. Now I know that loads of people ‒ maybe most these days in the western world - get into metal tubes and are carried all over the place thousands of feet up, but it’s not really flying ‒ not the same as flying like a bird. At best, you’ll be driving the tube, and I don’t deny that’s great fun, but it’s still not Peter Pan.

I’m relieved there aren’t any more free-fliers, because all our flying sites would get horribly overcrowded, and being constantly aware of avoiding mid-air collisions would spoil freedom and fun, but I’m really puzzled. It’s not unusual to have dreams about flying as a child and experience the thrill and freedom ‒ and real free-flying is better than that because those people far below, those birds that occasionally come alongside and those clouds are real. Think of all the songs ‒ ‘come fly with me, you are the world beneath my wings, I believe I can fly, learning to fly’ and so on. Why use these evocative metaphors, fantasise about flying and then stop short? To me it’s as logical as watching a porno movie and deciding to be celibate.

Now I really enjoy sex, am easily aroused and have never needed viagra to kickstart the engine. Well not yet. But the sheer feeling of well-being after a good day’s soaring and thermalling is really hard to beat. A couple of weeks without leaving the ground leaves you with a feeling of being deprived. Familiar parallels? It got me wondering and from that wondering came what might be a heretical thought that there are some things in human experience that might just challenge the delights of sexual excitement as the ultimate human experience. Sex might simply be too mainstream, to ordinary to make that claim any more, even with fetish accoutrements. I wondered in my virginal inexperience of free-falling, base jumping, kite surfing and other ‘extreme sports’ (doers prefer the term ‘adventure sports’ that nagging at the back of those people’s minds lurks a similar heresy.

It’s an unspoken. You can’t say after lovemaking, ‘darling, the earth moved for me, but the sky moved even more earlier today!’ Slap! There goes your love-life, unless you’ve struck lucky on your hotlist. It’s a dark secret that free-fliers sometimes refer to, but only to other free-fliers.

However, free-flying is no substitute for sex. Maybe as a weekend flier I lack the real experience of those hardcore fliers who have dedicated their lives to the sport, but I know of no such thing as an orgasm in flight ‒ the distraction could be fatal. But the experience is deeply intense, from the moment your paraglider fills with air and strains in the wind with superhuman strength, to be guided above your head, not by strength but by synergy, wit and experience. Things have already become elemental in a way that defies description and will stay elemental until your flight is over. And you step into the void, not knowing exactly what the flight will be like, and enjoying the unknowing for what it is. It is a total experience. Your awareness is nothing but what you’re doing in the sky. And despite the fact that some situations might have scared you, you’ve known people who got hurt, even killed riding the sky you will step into the void one more time, every time.

The other day I watched a woman in her twenties flying tandem with an instructor. It was her first ever flight and she squealed with childlike delight right the way through. I smiled. That’s why I fly. That thrill, awe and wonder never leaves you flight after flight.

But what Peter Pan lacked was a close and intimate relationship with Wendy. Flying is a very singular experience. You’re intimately bound to the elements, but even the influence of Tao on my belief system doesn’t convince me that the universe is somehow having a wild and sensuous time as a result of those intimate actions that are needed for me to soar the sky and climb the thermals. Sex, on the other hand, making allowances for masturbation, which has its own story and I’m not going to digress, does offer something different and special ‒ another human soul, who will interact with you, who might well have a wild and sensuous time as a result of those intimate actions … and reactions. And even on those occasions when the fantasy ideals aren’t quite realised, when the chemistry lacks a catalyst, the intimacy is still deeply human, shared with another human. As an aside I can guess one or two readers might think, ‘Less than perfect? I’m really great at sex. What’s your problem?’ If so you’ve missed the point.

Ask me which would I most willingly give up and I would accuse you of punching below the belt. It’s an unfair and unanswerable question.

Some months ago I was talking to one of the most experienced fliers in Britain. He’s been flying hang-gliders then paragliders for three decades. We got talking about this.

“Which is better, sex or flying? God that’s a tough one. Sex, I think.”

He paused for at least ten seconds, then added, “It would have to be bloody good sex.”

warmandsexy52 64M
13164 posts
9/3/2005 4:09 pm

and perish slowly from worry, inertia and diabetes!!


warmandsexy52 64M
13164 posts
9/3/2005 4:42 am

When I fly there is trust. I trust in my equipment. The slightest fault and I don't leave the ground. I trust in my knowledge, experience and judgement. My scariest moment - hitting a tree overhanging a 900 foot cliff in the welsh borders - was pure error of judgement. My inner voice told me not to do it, conditions were less than ideal, but I had climbed this hill and was going to fly off it, and you can add in brackets even if it killed me. I joke about it now - hanging like a puppet and feeling like a muppet (South London for fool). I was very shaken, but unhurt. Thanks to two remarkable fellow fliers who I'd just met that day I didn't need emergency services and, amazingly, didn't damage my glider.

I had taken for granted and taken lightly. There was insufficient wind and no thermals to have anything more than a top to bottom 'quickie'. What could be the problem?

In fantastic sex that trust is not in equipment or an understanding of the sky. It is in another person, so the veils, those layers of meaning around, can be cast aside freely, without fear of vulnerability.

In both there is stepping off the edge and reaching for the beyondness of self. There is always an element of risk as we seek such things.

I agree, mizzkitka, not to be taken for granted or lightly.


warmandsexy52 64M
13164 posts
8/31/2005 11:37 am

So perceptive and provoking, mizzkita!

Is it that in passion layer upon layer, veil after veil around who we are is cast away, until we have lost constructs, evaporated words and become pure and shared experience? Physical, emotional, spiritual bliss, and the trust to be taken there .... Hmmm, fantastic sex does have that edge!


warmandsexy52 64M
13164 posts
8/30/2005 11:16 pm

Thanks jacexprime. You can fly in spirit. In your dreams you've identified the quest for control and maneuverability that best compliments the total freedom, like ying and yang. What a depth of insight.


rm_jacexprime2 39M
67 posts
8/30/2005 5:04 pm

You know, thinking about having dreams of free flying, I used to get those every so often. Flying as you would expect a superhero to do. In all of my dreams except one, I didn't have much control, and didn't know how to do what I wanted to do. Like, altitude...in my dreams, I figured stiffening up my leg muscles would make me go higher, but it didn't work the way I wanted it to. All of my flying dreams were like that, except for one which was years ago, and I still remember it today. It was probably the best dream I ever had. I had perfect control and maneuverability, no form of flight control was missing. I was flying down some roads in Florida, swooping over traffic, and flew in and out and through a building construction zone. Weaving between the iron girders. There was a bit more to the dream, but that was the best part of it, especially since IN the dream, I still had concious control. *shrug* Eh, just thought I would share that.


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