A Personal Concept of Sanctity.

The big post keeps calling to be made, but I’m not ready yet. A certain wound has to heal first and it’s some way off that at the moment. Nevertheless, the pressure to say something is growing, so I just want to touch on one element of a highly complex and emotive issue. And could I ask that anybody who chooses to read this post read the whole of it.

Prostitution disturbs me greatly, and the reason it does so has nothing to do with moralistic judgement. I have no time for morality, and what other people choose to do with their bodies is their affair as long as it doesn’t involve me. Neither has it anything to do with Jesus, God’s will, or anything else connected with religion. None of those things mean anything at all to me. I’m even of the view that society should be enlightened and sensible enough to make it fully legal. The reason it disturbs me is this.

Intimacy means to me what you would expect it to mean to any Romantic idealist (and please, do note the capital R.) There is something essentially sacred about it, and I don’t mean ‘sacred’ as it is usually understood in a religious sense. That’s too narrow and man-made. It’s bigger than that; it has something to do with the value inherent in the life experience, something to do with the mystical significance contained within the union of masculine and feminine, something that resides on a much higher level than the merely physical. So when a prostitute places a monetary value on intimacy, she turns it into a bland commodity; she debases it to a level which I find intolerable and abdicates her essential role. To me, that is. Only to me.

Already I can feel my mind wandering into all the areas that are relevant to this issue. Why, for example, do I refer only to female prostitution? As I said, I don’t want to go there yet. So I’m going to shut up now and have some lunch.

I do have to finish, though, by emphasising that this is not a statement of objective opinion. This is just about explaining who I am and how I feel about things. Nothing more.