There's a recklessness to lust. A heat. A fog that clouds the brain, numbs the voice of reason, seductively cooing, "It's on!" In that moment, nothing matters—at least, nothing beyond the immediate, primal craving for connection, pleasure, validation. But here's the problem: that moment is fleeting, while its consequences can last a lifetime and feel like unending purgatory.
What starts as a spark of lust can quickly spiral into a must. Suddenly, you must deal with the fallout—a surprise pregnancy, a health scare, or the emotional wreckage of a forced attachment formed, but that lingers on way past its expiration date. The cavalier approach to relationships, especially when fueled by the haze of casual sex, leads to irreversible outcomes. Outcomes that don't just affect you but ripple outward, impacting others in ways you might never have considered.
It's not just lust's fault, though; after all, the urge to merge is powerful, thanks to natural selection and its biological imperative that we reproduce our species. Immaturity plays its part, too. The willful ignorance, the shrug of "it'll be fine," the deep-seated longing to be desired, the secret thrill of tempting fate—these are the attitudes that pave the way for disaster. We tell ourselves it's just fun, just casual, just one night. But deep down, there's often a sliver of knowing, a quiet acknowledgment that we're flirting with consequences we don't really want to face.
Buddhists have a term for this: karma. Not the pop-culture version where you get instant payback, but the deeper truth of cause and effect. It's not about punishment but the natural unfolding of actions. What we do--especially when we act impulsively or carelessly--has consequences, sometimes immediate, sometimes long-lasting. The care we take (or don't take) in our relationships and decisions sets up the stage for what follows.
And here's the kicker: the universe doesn't always teach the lesson. There's no guarantee that irresponsible behavior will lead to personal growth. Sometimes, it just leads to pain—yours, theirs, or both. The carelessness that feels so exhilarating in the moment can leave you with nothing but rust and dust: the rust of your psyche's inability to keep up with unwanted long-term responsibilities, and as a result, the dust you will become, extinguishing your vitality much sooner than later.
This isn't about fearmongering; it's about recognizing the responsibility that comes with intimacy. Lust isn't the villain here. Lust is natural. Lust is human, it's the joining at the hips, the burning of the loins, etc. But unmoored desire can be the worst kind of selfishness, the kind that pretends not to see the damage it's about to cause. Instead of romanticizing recklessness, there should be a recognition of what it is: a refusal to be accountable, an entitlement to fleeting pleasures, an excuse to act like a victim at the hands of a jezebel, all of which lead to Regret; that stained boulevard cobbled with the broken glass of foolhardiness that will repel any promising companion.
So what's the takeaway? Lust isn't something to shun, but it is something to respect. It's a powerful force, and with that power comes the need for intentionality. Acting with care doesn't mean suppressing desire; it means elevating it--ensuring that it aligns with who we are and what we want for our lives; honesty, a lot of care and affection, a path for joy, connection, and meaning. Now that's some ass worth chasing.