Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Some schools of thought say all dreams are a form of astral projection. If so, then I’m astral traveling 3 to 5 times every night. But what I consider astral projection — traveling across time/space to the Other Side — has only occurred once — that I remember.
I astral projected in a dream years ago, in 2002, or 2003, maybe 2004 — before Hurricane Katrina. This was either the only time I’ve ever experienced this or the only time I remember it this fully.
I was flying in my dream, which was great because I had not had a flying dream since I was a young teenager. As a kid, I’d have dreams in which I would float up out of my body (in the dream) and hang out at the ceiling, sometimes getting bored with whatever was going on in the room, like a classroom or sometimes a hospital/surgical type area, and I’d float out of the room, ducking to not hit my head on the door jamb, then fly/float down the hallway to something more interesting.
In most flying dreams, though, I would be outside where I could get a running start, spread my arms, take off, and fly — but never higher than just above the trees. These were always amazing. I progressed to the point where I didn’t have to take a running start — if I had the thought I wanted to fly, I spread my arms, bent my knees in a small plie’, and I was up in the air, soaring. The most interesting of these was one dream in which I was flying with Elton John. I have no idea why I dreamt that. I love Elton John, but to this day, that is a mystery.
So back to this particular dream… I was enthralled to be flying again, something I had missed for almost two decades. I was flying above the trees. I looked down as the canopy of treetops whizzed by. Suddenly, I realized I was not flying horizontally but vertically, like a helicopter going up instead of across. I thought, “How cool!”
I went up and up, still facing down, looking down towards the land. Further up and away from the trees. I went through the thin, low-lying clouds, higher and higher. Here’s where I started getting worried. I had no clue what was happening. Up and up. Still looking down, I saw I was high enough that I wasn’t just looking at the land or the water, I was now moving up through the clouds. Layers and layers of frothy white clouds. Then I was looking down at the clouds — up and up — looking down now at the entire earth, moving further from it at an increasing speed.
As the earth got smaller, I looked down toward what should have been my body but there was nothing there. I looked to my right at what should have been my arm, but my arm wasn’t there. I looked to my left, but my left arm wasn’t there. I thought, “Where’s my body?!” I looked around at myself, but I wasn’t there — only a fuzz of transparent light.
I felt my fuzz self cross a barrier, and I realized I had crossed the Veil (as pagans say). I was on the Other Side. I slowed down and took it all in, just floating. I had no body because I pure energy. Where I was was pure energy. It looked like an infinity of clouds in a golden light emanating from a huge golden light source off in the distance. In that instant I experienced what I’d never felt before or since — pure love. I knew it seemed crazy even at the time — this is what people who have near-death experiences say. They felt pure love. But it was true. I felt pure love. Pure connectedness to the supraconsciousness. I felt the infinity of the universe. I knew I was returning home — returning as light energy to rejoin the All light energy. No gods. No Jesus. No floating Buddha head. No made up human religious bullshit. The All was nameless, faceless, race-less, label-less energy.
Feeling that pure love was transformative. I knew what that pure love was as soon as I felt it and knew, with sadness, no one had ever extended that pure, unconditional love to me here on earth. I floated in the energy and felt my fuzzy light self being gently pulled toward the golden infinite energy All, and I loved it. I wanted it. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful, so intensely right — to be a part of that energy from whence I came, to leave the crap and the struggle of life on the physical plane. Everything I had ever wanted was right there. All I had to do was drift in the pure love energy stream to rejoin the infinite Source Energy.
I suddenly remembered my young daughter, and I thought, “Oh well, this was nice, but I have to go back now.” I expected to drift back to the Veil and begin my descent toward earth. However, I kept drifting toward the golden light. I thought, “No, really, I can’t stay. I have to get back to my daughter.” Nothing changed, in fact, I started moving toward the golden energy faster. I shouted (as only a fuzz ball of energy can), “NO! I have to go back to my daughter! She needs me!!” I tried to resist the pull of the energy — it was so immensely strong, and truthfully, I really wanted to stay in that perfect love vibration. But I tried pushing against the pull — hard to do with no arms or legs. I pushed against it, tried to pull myself away, pushed and pulled, tried again and again. I yelled, “I HAVE to go back! My daughter needs me!!”
At that instant, I began plummeting downward, downward, downward, accelerating exponentially. I saw the earth getting closer and closer. I went through the earth’s cloud layers, and I went faster. I worried how I was going to catch myself since I didn’t have a physical body. Was I just going to land on the roof of my house — SPLAT?! The earth got closer, then North America, then the Gulf Coast, the water, the trees — boom!
I bolted upright in bed. I was panting, breathless as if I’d just run a marathon. I looked down. I had a body — had arms and legs — nothing seemed broken. I looked up — the ceiling was intact. I felt like I had slammed into a concrete wall. I had crash-landed into my bed. I had no idea what just happened. I sat there for a few minutes, thoroughly confused by this, the weirdest dream I’d ever had.
I got up out of bed, shaky on my feet (that I was glad to see had returned), and I checked on my daughter. She was sound asleep. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the house. I could not wrap my head around what had happened. Of course, I had heard of out-of-body experiences (OOBE, or OBE), but I had never really delved into the topic, or astral travel, or remote viewing. I liked my easy-going nature-based Irish pagan path. I liked my relationship with my perception of a Source Energy, and I left all the New Age woo-woo stuff for the confused woo-woo people (who probably smoked a lot of weed).
Because of this dream/astral dream experience, my perception of “god/gods,” heaven/nirvana, et al were confirmed for what feels right for me. Science says energy is the basis of the universe, and I saw that that is true. Spiritual sages say “we are all connected,” and I felt that to be true in my experience. The bullshit importance humans place on ethnicity, economic class, political party, religious affiliation are all that — bullshit — completely made up, human busy-work to keep the physical plane mired down in drama so the soul energy has something to do while it’s here to learn lessons during its incarnation in the carbon-based meat-suit.
At that moment, I became what I call an Energist. I believe in Energy. Gods, goddesses, etc., are anthropomorphized interpretations of particular energy vibrations to appease the inquisitive human-animal’s mind as the soul sorts out its karma this go ’round.
This is when I became a Humanist. We are all energy. We are all equal. We are all connected, regardless of skin color, spiritual path, or other divisive pigeon hole man-made society wants us to buy into to keep strife and war in perpetual motion, usually for the benefit of sociopathic lizard-brains who feed on misery to secure their own financial gain and to ensure their elite status and control.
This earthly existence offers glimpses into the love and connectedness that exist on the Other Side. They are possible here… if we lose our temporary selves long enough to find our true selves.
This is my experience. You don’t have to like it, agree with it, or believe it. It is mine. This is the experience as it happened to me, so I don’t feel the need to justify or rationalize any aspect of it. This was a truly integral and life-changing experience for me, and to this day, it greatly influences many of my tenets that I hold to be true for me and my path.
I hope to return to the All Source Energy again this lifetime to say Hi — as long as I can come back here once I’m done hanging out in the energy love fuzz.
Spending time pondering the meaning of it all, I returned to a little activity I like to do to think positively about the future. I open up my drawing program and finesse the design of my ultimate dream home.
Today, I did a complete re-design… actually, I designed the little cottage I’ve always wanted to have in addition to the big house that would be more for entertaining. Except now I’m not wanting the big house as much — just the cottage.
What was my thought process? See below.
Here in my corner of the women’s sexuality universe, I have dabbled in writing erotica on the side of all that I do here on the blog posts (and my day job as a freelance writer, penning blog posts, cover stories, and featured articles about the Broadway theatre scene).
I started a couple of chapters for my Confessions of an Aroused Woman, a book of erotic stories based in my own life and my erotic awakening. With the political issues of women making headlines, I started my main site: ArousedWoman, and then this blog.
I never meant to write down my personal experiences in such an open forum as this — much less talk about vaginas and clits every day on Twitter. But I’m very glad I did… and do. Writing up own experiences and feelings in these real blog posts has been a great journey to orgasmic self-empowerment.
And then this other little book was published called 50 Shades of Grey. I hear it’s about S&M or BDSM, or something. Sorry, I won’t be reading it… and apparently, I don’t need to… After reading my tongue-in-cheek post, “OpEd: Fucking Cherokee Men (and Other People of Color),” a reader left a great comment on the blog post concerning my blog.
OM is the clitoris-centric practice brought to the masses by Nicole Daedone, author of Slow Sex: The Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm. In her TEDtalk, “Orgasm: The Cure for Hunger in the Western Woman,” Daedone explained how she came to OM-ing and how it changed her. She says she’s not a New Age “woo-woo” person, but I won’t hold that against her. :) Daedone is obviously passionate about getting this revolutionary information out to women, and so am I!
Speaking for myself, I find clit-only stimulation and orgasms to be extremely boring — or I did, before OM. Having discovered my She Spot over a decade ago, I’m rather an aficionado of blended orgasms, stimulating both my She Spot and clit simultaneously to achieve both the full-body waves of the vaginal orgasm and the fireworks’ explosion of heat of the clitoral orgasm. Since becoming acquainted with my prostate last fall and making peace with my breasts, I have been on a path of rediscovering my body now that I see it as truly mine — not a man’s plaything or a child’s source of nourishment.
I hesitated to even try the OM technique, which only lasts 15 minutes, because it is a couple’s practice, and I’m single. I tried it the first time and didn’t get much out of it, but that was completely my fault. After years of blended O’s, stimulating just the clit was weird, made even weirder because the fingering technique is not the hard and fast circles of friggin’ off women are so used to seeing in porn and doing on themselves. The OM touch is a gentle, subtle touch that I didn’t appreciate at first.
Clitoral orgasms are typically localized to the clitoral area, with an explosion that doesn’t leave any lasting orgasmic contractions the way vaginal orgasms do (for me, anyway). The clitoris is itself much more than just the “rosebud” visible from the outside. Also, after years of being on the vibration bandwagon thanks to effective marketing that makes women think “assisted” orgasms are better (they’re not), I had absolutely no feeling in my clit at all, unless I used a vibrator. My clit was dead. Having thrown my Hitachi Wand in the dumpster a year ago, I had to give my clit time to heal from the nerve damage while I began my new life as a Recovering Vibratoraholic. It was then I realized that by using a vibrator on my clit and a g-spot vibe inside to orgasm, I hadn’t actually touched my lady’s loins in a damn long time — this was exacerbated by my new life and new stresses as a single mother. The past year of bodily and orgasmic explorations brought me back in touch with the amazing textures, capabilities, and ever-changing environments of my genitals. I only WISH I’d known about OM-ing a year ago!
My second go with OM-ing was late at night, when I was in bed and generally feeling very Zen — i.e., lazy but not sleepy. I was too tired to drag out a toy and expend the energy that would entail, so it seemed to be the perfect time to try OM again. Thoroughly relaxed — a rarity for me, I allowed myself to have a goalless, non-attachment philosophy toward OM-ing. OM is simple and unpretentious, similar to how I like my sex. After all, OM is a technique to make orgasms better, not necessarily to orgasm at that moment — which was good because the thought of a lackluster clitoral orgasm wasn’t appealing. (I was tired, not crazy.)
I set the timer alarm on my phone for the requisite 15 minutes. As I lay there in the dark, with my nightly meditation CD playing, I began the finger technique on my clit — a very precise technique on an exact part of the clit — and began to have the most amazing sensations. Heat began to rise up from my clit and circulate like spirals of arousal energy snaking up my body and down my limbs. (You don’t have to subscribe to chakras and chi to get the benefits of this mojo either.)
I could have lived in this energy forever, and knowing I wasn’t trying for an orgasm seemed to take some pressure off, and before I knew it, a huge, full-body orgasm hit. My back arched, my legs kicked out, and I made my moans that I love so much. It was incredible. Actually, it was multiple. I kept up the precise fingering, and the wave/explosions kept hitting.
It was like having two separate experiences at once: #1: an in-body experience of the orgasms and feelings themselves, and #2: an out-of-body/observer experience that was shocked that I’d just had a full-body O via clit-only stimulation — and not the frantic circle stim either, but the soft, light, unassuming OM flick of the index finger across my long-unappreciated clitoris.
Then the 15-minute alarm sounded. I have never hated my phone more than at that moment!
The next surprise was the tears. Since finding my true orgasmic potential, my orgasms are always multiples, and the denouement is always emotional. The harder the gut-wrenching sobs, the stronger and more numerous the orgasms were. Crying after a clit-only session was definitely a new one for me!
Since then, my clit has been more responsive to touch and required less stimulation during my other orgasmic pursuits. While I’m still learning about clitoral and vaginal orgasms and how they differ due to the different major nerves that feed feeling to the separate areas, I’m a big believer in OM.
The only downside I can see to OM is that men may view it as yet another practice in which they do all the “work” while the woman gets all the “benefits.” These insecure men probably wouldn’t appreciate the subtle genius of OM anyway. ***NOTE: Since the clit and the head of a man’s penis are synonymous, I would theorize that the OM technique could be quite delicious on the man as well, just re-set the 15-minute timer. ***
Yes, OM recommends a particular set-up or sacred space called “the nest” to create atmosphere as well as comfort. OM requires a specific position for both the woman and her partner. OneStroke Lube. 15 minutes. But once the OM-ing is done, you can both hit the bed (or the diningroom table) and continue with the merry-making. (Any straight man who wouldn’t want to spend 15 minutes’ quality time with his woman spread eagle on his lap needs help.) And for those who are woo-woo-minded, Tantra and other sex practices acknowledge that it takes 15-30 minutes of stimulation to get a women fully aroused and in the multiple orgasm zone. OM is a great way to spend that 15 minutes.
OM is available through OneTaste, which offers classes, videos, and workshops to hone the OM technique as well as improve the communication of the couple. After all, “relationship” is the active relating to another person. How often is sex bad because there is no relating between the people involved? Have a look at OneTaste’s Essentials Package for starters.
Have you tried OM-ing? Let me know by leaving a comment below!
To watch Nicole’s presentation at TEDxSF, click play:
I think I’ve realized a few things I can work on to make my experiences with the KSMO approach better…
1. Love my moan. Reading a chat of 7 Adepts talking about their experiences with KSMO, the lone female mentioned that once she started loving her moan, the feelings intensified. I know I think too much about the sound I’m making — that’s my singer training wanting to analyze what I’m doing and feeling. I also noticed the last time I had a solo sex session that I was holding my sound in — I was breathing, but not making sound.
I was never a “screamer” before KSMO — ’cause that’s bad for the voice and all (and I guess the sex wasn’t good enough for me to have anything to scream about). But I remembered a voice mentor once saying in regard to glottal stops (the hard, hit sound of some words that start with vowels, or when you stub your toe, and you have a sudden exclamation/belly crunch sound of “OH!”), that if the voice weren’t supposed to do it, it wouldn’t, but it can, so it can’t be all bad. I was holding my sound in because I was worried about the neighbors hearing. I have started doing my solo sessions during the day when none of them is home and I can be as loud as I want, but this time was late at night and so I was self-conscious. The O was fabulous, though.
So I will try not to be self-conscious even when the neighbors ARE home at night time because I really started enjoying the sounds I’ve been making on the way to the big O’s and afterward with the smaller O’s. At first, I thought the sounds were a little cheezy, but then I realized I was being judgmental.
Sometimes the sounds are low and rich, or quick and panting, but other times, my arousal sounds are soft, higher-pitched moanings. And the sound I’ve grown accustomed to emitting just as orgasm starts and through the orgasms is a straight-up I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!!!! kind of scream / howl that I actually think is kinda groovy. (Hope my neighbors dig it.)
I’ve even noticed that during the height of orgasm, my eyes fly open — which is totally weird! It’s almost like some part of me wants to see what I look like during such an incredible orgasm. (Remind me to hang a mirror over my bed.)
2. Schedule my KSMO & solo sex sessions. I really have to plan for my sexual explorations, otherwise it can be a week or more in between, and I can feel the progress I’ve made start to slip away. Or I don’t feel I’m progressing to the energy orgasms & feelings as described here by other adepts. I need to work more on moving energy around, but maybe because I’m self-conscious of my sound (either my own judgment of it or the fear of disturbing neighbors at night time) creates an energy block? After all, the whole point of the key sound is to integrate breathing / sound with arousal to achieve the legendary multiple orgasms.
3. Relax more. From the ambiance of the room, to just being comfortable, to knowing I have the time it will take to do the 20-minute protocol as well as lay around to experience / feel any after effects — all of this makes the session satisfying for me. Taking shortcuts on any of these seems to affect my KSMO experience… ugh…
And of course, I can’t get back on my real KSMO schedule till after the New Year, but I’m reading and absorbing info and enjoying echoes (and maybe some KSMO in the wee hours of the morning when everyone else is asleep!) till Grandfather Time turns the clock forward.
*** Read Part 2. ***
Aroused and moaning,