I have spoken of grace as a condition of effortless accomplishment. If there is anything inescapable about Jewel, it is the extent to which our contributions to each other's growth have been imbued with grace.

Sex in the abstract, as I euphemistically put it, can be ecstatic. It depends upon whether you succeed in matching impedance. We had our difficulties.

The next morning, Jewel came to me in the full flower of her womanhood. (Excuse my delicacy.) My reaction spoke volumes: "So there is some pleasure in adult life." And pleasure it was. She opened herself wholly to me. Every time my hands touched her in imagination, I felt her response. Morphological constraints did not apply: I could touch her anywhere. When one motion engendered a sympathetic response elsewhere, my energy followed.

A woman's body is an incredible instrument to play upon, delicate but powerful. I do not understand why she trusted me to enter her the way she did.

As I built energy in her, she channeled it to the base of my spinal cord, and ran it up my back, where it exploded into my cerebellum. My neck spasmed backwards, jamming the base of my skull against my spine. I didn't know what to say, but kept on playing in her energy, and she played it back on me in the same way. Eventually, I complained that it hurt. Her response: "You have to be stronger."

I understand this statement now. I was resisting the flow of energy, rather than letting it find its way through me. But at the time, I didn't know how to interpret it. I broke. Something tore in the tissues around the base of my skull. Realization came to me: "You're not on my body. You're in my mind." She stopped, shocked, and touched me as I was touching her. Wow! But I couldn't continue.