Today is June 21, 2014, and it marks 18 years since I self-initiated as a witch. The ritual took place in my backyard with a number of fellow witch-friends in attendance, along with too many mosquitoes and June Bugs to count.
I had been on this road to witchdom for a couple of years, having searched for a spiritual tradition that was in keeping with my ancient Gaelic ancestors. I was even in a coven for a while, but their tradition was American eclectic and had way too much Wicca and ceremonial hogwash for my tastes. Unofficially, I had been on this path my whole life; it had only been a couple years prior to my self-initiation that I had begun to take on the mantle of witch and pagan.
As I related in my Samhain post, being a witch in reality is nothing like what TV and movies pretend it is. “Witch” is usually used as an insult, particularly against women. This past Samhain, I bought a sign that says, “You say I’m a Witch … like it’s a bad thing.” And for me, the word “witch” is utterly fabulous.
The word witch is thought to derive from a Germanic root word that alternately can mean “to be strong” and/or “to know” or “to be wise”. The term witch was used to refer to the local wise woman, the woman who knew the healing arts, midwivery, burial preparations, and often, relationship advice. Witches were the keepers of arcane knowledge from birth to death, and that scared the men in charge of Europe’s misogynistic religion and governments. Insecure men have always feared women’s ability to create life, and that fear was never greater than in the centuries of patriarchal rule before modern science could explain some of the mysteries of human biology.
I have often said that someday I hope to be able to call myself, fully, a witch — to truly be a wise woman. I’ve found that it takes much more than just calling yourself a witch to actually be a true witch. I’m not talking about covens and initiations either. You’re a person who strives to live in a wise way, a beauty way, the “Red Road”, according to the laws of Nature and Karma, or you don’t.
Many arguments can be made over who is a real witch and who isn’t. That’s another reason I left a coven and ventured out on my own. I just wanted to do what felt right to me and was in keeping with my Irish and Scottish heritage. Along the way, I’ve studied many religions, and I’m particularly smitten with the teachings of Indian religions as they pertain to enlightenment, reincarnation, and expansion of universal consciousness. While I will call myself an Energist, for reasons I’ll explain in another post, there is no actual name for what I do — it’s just Trish Witchyness.
Recently, an instructor from Pittsburgh University interviewed me for some doctoral work he is doing. He wanted to know about my spiritual path and how I do my “thang” as a solitary witch. We talked for several hours over the course of a few days, and it was a great conversation that brought back many memories along my journey.
I recounted a tale from when I was a child, about seven years old, when my mother wanted me to stop making mud pies in the backyard to get ready for church. I asked why we had to go to church. She said it was to worship god in his house. I asked her why we had to go to church to worship god because a church was made by men while the earth and water I was concocting into mud pies was actually made by god. Furious that I was questioning her religious bullshit, she growled for me to get inside and get cleaned up, and away to man’s building we went.
When I was nine, I was forced to become Catholic. I knew instinctively the church was evil. Maybe it was a past-life memory of being burned at the stake or something … or being an observant child, I could see through the hypocrisy and the double standards of the Catholic church when my mother, the recreational martyr, fell for all of it hook, line, and sinker. One day when I was 10, I asked one of the priests, “Which is worse: always to believe and never to question, or always to question and never to believe?” He sputtered, clearly unable to answer me, then a moment later began spewing some dogmatic drivel that I could tell even he knew was inadequate.
I hated the Catholic church, I hated my mother, I hated Catholic school, I despised it all. When I was 17, I graduated from Catholic school, and I vowed never to return to the church. I almost did not attend my best friend’s wedding because it was a wedding mass. So was my sister’s.
At age 17, my life changed when I met an American Indian ballet dancer at a major competition. His poetry about his spirit animal connected directly to the heart of me. But I’m not Indian. He suggested I begin searching for answers with my heritage, and so my journey into the incredible world of the Gaelic people and spirituality began. I knew I was home as I learned more and more about pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland. Even with the invasion of Christianity on the Gaelic peoples, many of the traditional stories and customs had survived. Considering how much of the pagan culture was absorbed and outright stolen by the Christian church, finding the links back to pre-Christian European spirituality is doable and documentable.
When I was 21, I volunteered with a ballet company in New Orleans. One day, I decided to go inside a huge cathedral — St. Patrick’s, I think it was. I went to one of the last pews and knelt. And waited. And waited. And waited. I looked around. Nothing. I bowed my head. Nothing. I looked at the shiny brass and gold trinkets, and the porcelain statues, and the stained glass, and the wooden reproduction of Jesus on the cross. And felt nothing. I began crying. Because I felt nothing. I left. Still crying. I wanted to belong somewhere, and this was never going to be it.
I didn’t have a name for what I was or what I believed at that time. About a year later, a theatre friend asked if I’d heard of Wicca. I hadn’t, but when I looked into it at the library and bookstore (this was pre-internet), I resonated with some of what I read, but not all of it. Some of Wicca seemed as regimented and hierarchical as the dogmatic church I despised. Turns out that Wicca was founded by two former Anglicans. And as another friend used to joke, “Episcopal is just Catholic with an ‘E’.”
It was that journey (and the dawn of the internet) that allowed me to find other soul-path querents who go by many names: Wicca, Witches, Pagans, Neo-Pagans, Druids, Eclectic, Ceremonial Witches, Asatru, etc. Too many to list. The coven didn’t work out, but it allowed me to see what I didn’t want on my path. I left in the Spring, and it was that Summer Solstice that I held my self-initiation in my backyard on June 21, 1996.
Walking the witchy path has not been easy, especially considering I live in Mississippi. Being “out of the broom closet” has been a challenge from Day 1. I have endured personal taunts and threats, rude comments left on my vehicle (thanks to my “Born Again Pagan” bumper sticker) whenever I went to the store, work, the post office, the gas station. I even lost a job because I wasn’t Christian. But like any other closet a person chooses to come out of, being free trumps being a slave to the ignorance of others, especially here in the Bible Belt.
I composed a musical, Witchcraze, to correlate the terrorizing good ol’ boys of the Bush regime with the torturous witch trial masterminds of 1692 Salem. Having studied in depth the arrest warrants, the trial transcripts, and the re-trial transcripts, I can say for a fact that nothing I have endured comes close to what was done to the women of previous centuries, when “witch” was a label that carried heinous torture and a death sentence.
So, I’m a witch. And I’m a pagan. And an Energist. And a tarot card reader. And a Libra. And a Tatrika and yogini. And a composer, and a nerd, and a bookworm, and a Democrat, and a Streisand devotee, and a single-mom, and a wannabe chef and cafe-owner, and a kettlebell enthusiast, and I’m right-handed. Pick any of those labels, and someone is going to have a problem with me because of how they perceive that word and what they think it stands for.
I am a writer: a lover of words and sounds and syllables. I know what “witch” means, and to me, witch is a beautiful word. Witch is a sacred word. Witch is a word women (and men) have died for, and it is a word I choose for my goal in this lifetime: to be a wise woman, to be a strong woman, to live a life of expansion and understanding. Most of all, hearing or seeing the word witch makes me feel something. I feel a connection to all the women (and men) who defied oligarchical, elitist oppression to live and die free as freethinkers and religious and political dissenters. And that makes my activist heart proud.
Aroused and witchy,
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Tantra: The Cult of Ecstasy is a large-sized paperback book originally published in Britain that covers some of the basics about Tantra, offering accurate information on this ancient, extensive, and often confusing topic. The book features full-color photographs from the Tantra sutras, connecting the reader with Tantric history. The author, Indra Sinha, focuses on the ancient paths of Tantra: the goddesses associated, sacred sites, mantras, and meditations, as well as explains the many misconceptions of Tantra as presented in the West. Sinha was a Sanskrit scholar at Cambridge and also wrote one of the popular modern translations of the infamous Kama Sutra.
The reason I like Tantra: The Cult of Ecstasy is because it touches on so many important topics of Tantra but in manageable pieces, perfectly combined with the photos and visually-friendly layout. The photographs are taken from various primary sources – the Tantra sutras, and incorporate various symbolic aspects that the ancients readily understood but may seem shocking or just weird to the modern viewer. Some of the iconography includes blood-covered goddesses, wriggling serpents, and a plethora of yoni (vulvas) and linga (penises). The book also features centuries-old Tantric drawings and paintings that depict maithuna (sexual union), so this book is “Not Safe For Work” and might be best for readers aged 21 or older.
This book touches on so many important topics in a thorough but easy-to-grasp manner that it makes a perfect beginner’s book to Tantra. I heartily recommend Tantra: The Cult of Ecstasy as a primer for Tantra: The Cult of the Feminine by Andre Van Lysebeth, Tantric Yoga and the Wisdom Goddesses by Dr. David Frawley, and Awakening Shakti: The Transformative Power of the Goddesses of Yoga by Sally Kempton. As the umbrella over all the yogas, including hatha and kundalini, Tantra is a shamanic science present in all forms of yogic practice, but the majority of Tantric gnosticism regarding sex is rarely presented at the average yoga studio while being hypersexualized in most New Age Tantric books and workshops.
Another book with a similar cover is Tools for Tantra by North Indian musician and writer Harish Johari, an excellent introduction to the yogic mandalas, Sanskrit mantras, and visual yantras used in Tantra. However, this book is a bit of a dryer read, and so Tantra: The Cult of Ecstasy is still a better opener to Tantra.
As one writer has said, a book without Tantra’s yantra is not really a book on Tantra. Therein lies the great problem with researching Tantra. It is difficult to sort through the numerous books available to ascertain which one will have the best, most reliable information. Finding a teacher versed in real Tantra is even more difficult. Tantra is a way of life, not an hour-long yoga session Monday-Wednesday-Friday, nor a collection of kinky sex positions. Tantra literally means a “tool for expansion” and is thought of as a “web”, a connected yet expanding consciousness, bridging the microcosm with the macrocosm and back again, cyclically.
The author, Sinha, writes on page 15, “The basis of all Tantrism is the worship of Sakti and Siva, the female and the male principles…. Without Sakti, there is no Siva, and no Siva without Sakti.” Sinha states emphatically in the previous paragraph, “Siva and Sakti cannot be separated.” (14-15) This very specific religious and spiritual foundation is probably the reason most Tantrism in the West has been secularized, stripping the “foreign” and non-Christian aspects to make Tantra and sexuality more palatable for sexually-repressed Americans. While I personally, do not subscribe to Sanatana Dharma (“Hinduism”), I appreciate the energies anthropomorphized as the balancing principals of Shakti or Shiva. Sinha has included the “foreign” bits and ancient spiritual practices for the Tantra newcomer.
The photographs of the ancient depictions of Tantra, her goddesses, and the sacred symbols can be jarring at first. The modern observer may find it odd to see detached penises and flying vulvas included in sacred sexuality. I will admit, that it does seem a bit “J. Alfred Prufrock’ed” at times. However, like all symbols, they are meant to jog the memory of the mind, the heart, and/or the subconscious self, not to be the whole story in and of itself.
Intriguing to some and perhaps shocking to others, Tantra: The Cult of Ecstasy helps diminish the hypersexualized celebrity of Tantra and add fact where fiction has reigned in the popular consciousness. Sinha perfectly synthesizes centuries of teachings into a helpful, 154-page book, including an impressive 9-page bibliography and index, that informs but does not overwhelm the senses. Anyone looking to dip her or his toe into the expansive waters of Tantra would do well to start with Sinha’s Tantra: The Cult of Ecstasy.
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Carolyn was trained by Yogi Bhajan and accesses Hindu archetypes, Sanskrit mantras, Aghoric references, astral and etheric travelling, soul journeying, meditation, posture, breath manipulation and encourages conscious connections to our individual strengths and un-accessed, unacknowledged powers and abilities.
Some of the topics we will cover include the following:
- Kundalini yoga and its history
- Shakti, life force energy
- Yogi Bhajan, who brought Kundalini to the West
- Kundalini syndrome
- The difference between Kundalini and Tantra
- Carolyn’s teaching method that she shares with students around the world
Tune in today at 3 p.m. ET/2 p.m. CT (and for those in the UK, that’s 8 p.m. your time). Listen online as Trish Causey Discusses Kundalini Awakening with Carolyn Cowan. International listeners can call in via Skype. Listeners in the US can call in with questions or comments at (347) 884-8792. All listeners can post in the show’s online chat room, just click the link above here.
The Human Energy Field: An Interview with Valerie V. Hunt, Ph.D. via The Human Energy Field: An Interview with Valerie V. Hunt, Ph.D.
When the pattern of the electromagnetism is disturbed in the body, you will get disease and malfunction. And this electromagnetic pattern can be disturbed in a number of ways: genetically, due to the nature of the tissue, although I don’t think that’s a major factor; experientially, due to lifestyle patterns; or emotionally, which I think is the primary factor. What happens is there is a disturbance that occurs in the electromagnetism of the tissue, which will eventually alter the chemistry. And actually this goes clear to the DNA. I predict we will learn before long that the DNA is reprogrammed by the emotional organization of the energy field. I am not saying this simply. I have had experiences here.
What you are saying, then, is that the primary cause of all disease occurs first and foremost in the field. Correct?
Absolutely. Many people are coming to that conclusion theoretically. I’m coming to it through my research.
Conversely, then, for healing to truly occur, it has to occur in the field, as well.
All healing that takes place in alternative medicine is electromagnetic. Whether it’s the laying on of hands, Tai Chi, meditation — everything that takes place, even the thought process, or the person’s intent or spiritual state, changes the electromagnetic field and changes it almost instantaneously. Now if it stays changed and improved, the body heals itself, and the chemistry reorganizes. This biochemical reorganization is the effect that medicine is working upon. Medicine has never, ever cured anything. The body cures itself. Sometimes, in emergency situations, we need the offset of biochemistry, but not as a cure of disease. It never has cured disease, and it never will cure disease. Only if the field changes will there be a true cure.
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.
Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
*Read Part 1.*
The fourth time with the new toy was a mixed, weird, confusing experience. Suffice it to say, this guy requires lube — lots of lube. I had already done a blended orgasm with my new glass toy (more on that later) to prime my vaginal opening, get the juices flowing, start stretching the vaginal muscles inside, etc. As before, the head took a couple of tries to fully enter, and as the head/corona passed my prostate, I felt a slight sting, but it wasn’t as bad as the first few times. I thought, “Great, I’m adjusting to him.” Then feeling the shaft enter, I was breathless again at the feeling of being so very filled and stretched.
Since I’d started my session early, around 10:30 a.m., I felt no rush to finish with Bob. In fact, over the next couple of hours, I would do a round of sliding him in and out slowly for about 15 minutes, then pull him out, and relax in a blissful stupor for another 20 to 30 minutes, having nipple orgasms, sheet orgasms, clit and spontaneous O’s, then I’d reach for Bob again for another slow and easy go of it.
Each time, I did not bring myself to climax with Bob, just enjoyed the orgasms from the slow and steady pace and the occasional hard and fast thrusting and pulling out to float in that bliss for a while, then starting it all over again.
Around 2 p.m., I began again, knowing I was wet from the other orgasms, I didn’t lube Bob this time. I noticed, he wasn’t moving as smoothly as he had before. I needed some lube. Then Stupid Me showed up and totally screwed this whole experience up. The feelings in my vagina were the same as when I endured friction sex while married. Though my ex-Asshole isn’t nearly this wide, he hated me getting too wet. This dry, friction feeling was then “familiar,” and being a little lazy, I thought I’d just put up with it because I really wanted the great orgasms I’d had the other few times with this toy.
Every time Smart Me said, “Man, I need lube,” Stupid Me overruled that inner voice with, “You put up with it when you were married, put up with it now and finish.” As the friction got to be too much, Smart Me won the debate, and I put a little bit of lube on the toy and re-inserted. I felt immediate stinging, more stinging, then being filled by the shaft, and then a surge of heat — not in a good way. I continued on, now that he was properly lubed, imagining my Dream Man, and long story short, I finished. Yes, the orgasm was great… but it was… weird… but it was beautiful… but weird.
I felt a strange emotion — yes, I cried, but there was something else. During that last bit, I had a realization of just what this toy represented for me. The images and feelings conjured during this session were so intensely powerful, I instantly knew who he was. The experience had become emotional during the session, and now, afterward, I wanted to give him a name, a sacred name. And I did. And I cried some more. I lay there for a while in my reverie, feeling a new awareness of completeness.
Knowing I needed to get up, I realized my fingers felt a bit strange, so I looked at them. My hands were covered in blood. I wasn’t on my period. I looked at the toy, and he was bloody, too. I got up and went to the bathroom and opened my legs up to the full-length mirror. My labia and thighs were bloody, and I had an immediate flashback to when I was raped at 21, after which I bled for 4 days. I remembered a couple other times I bled a little after friction sex.
As it so happened with this fourth time with this toy, I bled that night and the next day, but that was it. I have not noticed any blood or change in vaginal discharge. I never felt any pain, aside from the uncomfortableness in the moment of the “friction sex” before I re-lubed the toy.
In fact, in the couple days since, today now being 03-03-13, I have enjoyed all my usual orgasms and my new gentle-touch prostate orgasms. Everything is functioning perfectly.
Which leads me to an esoteric interpretation… In the very emotional moments of that last part of the session, I had a very clear vision of my Dream Man. He was absolutely clear to me. He is a feeling and an energy. I knew him so well, I called him a sacred name for the very first time, and I subsequently bestowed that name on the toy who is his physical representation for me.
Blood has a life force. Blood used to be an important part of rituals and taking oaths. To this day, Christians symbolically ingest the blood of Jesus when they participate in the ritualized cannibalistic practice of Communion/Eucharist. As a pagan witch, considering who and what this energy/feeling began to represent — my Dream Man, I’m not surprised that blood would have manifested as a sort of initiation with this new, clear vision — a consummation, as it were.
And yes, I know I sound crazy — I’m an artist, I always sound a bit crazy. Most people are so keyed in to the physical side of sex or climax, they miss subtleties of energy or awakenings that may be present. This vision I saw is no different than imagining a scene in one’s mind to help the arousal process along, but the difference here is that he appeared to me, and I knew him instantly.
Esoteric interpretations aside, I will have to see how using “Bob” (no, that’s not his sacred name!) goes tomorrow or the next day. I did not bleed the other 3 times, so I’m hoping that with plenty of lube, Bob and I will be hunky-dorey in our future rendezvous sessions.
Seriously, though, this experience was powerful for me, and though the blood had me a bit worried for that day, I’m hoping it was just a fluke… or an initiation.
Aroused and pondering the possibilities,
If you read my post from the other day, you know ArousedWoman is now 1 year old — and what a year it has been! I did not set out to create what ArousedWoman has become — I just followed my heart to continue my activism for myself personally and “to stir to action” and “awaken” others to the need for activism for women’s rights and other issues collectively. And poof! ArousedWoman is now arousing readers around the world.
As I review everything that’s gone on in 2012, I am re-focusing ArousedWoman for 2013 and beyond. My activism is definitely still here (sorry, men :-)), but I want to hone in on specifics to awaken people to healthy sexuality and a sex-positive outlook. Sex is not about control, or pain, or staying quiet to keep the peace in a relationship. Our sexual happiness is fundamental to our happiness as human beings, and I don’t think true happiness is possible if we’re playing manipulative games within our sexual relationships.
If you’ve read much of my blog, then you’ll know that I approach sexuality from a Tantric perspective, with leanings toward Kundalini and other ancient wisdom. With so many people trying to find their sexual identity in our 21st century soulless culture, a link to the past is a good grounding for wading through the murky flotsam and getsam of shame, fear, and guilt pervading our Puritanical society.
I think the human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful. Orgasms are beautiful — and natural — and healthy. With that as my foundation, I am re-focusing ArousedWoman to “Awakening Sexuality in Mind, Body, and Spirit.”
Not just a sex blog, I want to help people on a myriad of levels. Sexual health begins in the mind, but vitality of the body and spirit are just as crucial to being happy sexually, and in turn, happy in your everyday life. And my dear atheist readers, don’t get scared by the word “spirit”! Spirit has nothing to do with religion (religion is an evil pyramid scheme for an elite core of men to gain and maintain their power and wealth). I may throw some good ol’ pagan sex rite stuff in here occasionally, but trust me, religion is NOT on the menu here!
Orgasm is not just a physical phenomenon but more truly an intangible response of the subtle body and the parasympathetic nervous system. I will cover some non-traditional aspects of holistic growth such as exploring dreams, meditation, breathing, stress relief, raising energy, shamanism, Tantric bodywork, bioenergetics, the brain vs. the mind, meat-based diet vs. vegetarianism, nutrition, exercise, and controversial topics such as entheogens and polyamory, to name a few.
Beginning this summer, I will be creating videos that address some of the issues and posting them on my new YouTube page. The videos will cover anatomy, nutrition, exercise, and more topics that I will also cover here in the blog. Why not sooner, you may ask? I need to get a video camera with a mic input. So until I upgrade to an iPhone or shell out some moolah for an actual digicam with a mic input, the videos will be on hold till summer-ish.
And I’m close to announcing the beta test for my orgasm training method, so be sure to sign up for my newsletter for more information on how to apply for that when the time comes.
All in all, I am profoundly grateful for all my new friends I’ve gained in the past year. It really has been amazing! Looking ahead, 2013 is destined to be even better. Stay tuned for exciting developments!
A male member of the AW Forum posted a discussion in the Music to Set the Mood area, saying:
“Just thought I would add a category that I like to call ‘Hard Erotica.’ It’s a little more gritty and animalistic… Sometimes a good fuck requires a little hair pulling….”
Seriously? We’re back to the “so easy a cave man could do it” attitude toward sex?
The songs to which this member linked were dance-music, “hardcore erotica” tracks from Basic Instinct and Madonna. As a composer of real music, I find that this sort of computerized drivel personifies what is wrong with popular music (overproduced, over-sampled, monotonous in “beat”), but I’ll leave that aside for now.
Describing an enthusiastic fuck as “animalistic” begins to lead the conversation about sex back toward hardcore porn — removing the humanity from sex and encouraging the monotonous mechanics of impersonal fucking — which is not something I subscribe to and is NOT the purpose of my forum or anything related to ArousedWoman(TM). Sex should be about connection — even casual fucking should have a dose of humanity and connectedness to it.
We all know sex can get really heated and… exuberant… that doesn’t mean the intent is “animalistic,” necessarily. This sort of description is exactly the terminology the church used to shame sex — that it was “base” and only for “lower” animals. Deep, fast, thrusting sex can be thrilling for sure, but that doesn’t mean it is “animalistic.” Sex can also be incredibly tender and beautiful. Sex should be a raising of energy between partners, not just a means of tension relief from erratic muscular contractions. In fact, from a Tantric perspective, the best orgasms happen from “slow sex.” (Yes, I said slow sex — as in, the man enters the vagina, and nobody moves for an hour… Yes, I said an hour.)
For myself, I make it clear to a partner that hair pulling is absolutely NOT OKAY. It’s not only a sign of aggravated assault (to me), but yanking a woman’s head back via hair pulling is dangerous to the cervical spine and the larynx (the tube for breathing and speech).
Men may have a fantasy about hair pulling because of what they’ve seen in “hardcore porn,” but only because they’ve never been on the receiving end of having their head yanked back by their long hair or ponytail. No, it is not the same feeling as when a woman curls her fingers in a man’s short hair (on his head) and pulls his head back (that is bad enough), but to have someone grab hold of your long hair, use it like a handle to jerk your head back is horribly painful — and again, dangerous to the neck and larynx.
Yes, I know, some readers will complain (again) that I’m being all “puritanical” and I’m “not at peace” with myself for expressing my opinion (and I’m not even on my period and all hormonal), but I don’t exist to perpetuate the stereotypes of women or sex. So suck it.
ArousedWoman(TM) is about awakening from the “dirty,” impersonal, shame-filled KoolAid of sexuality as demonized by religion and kinkified by a society still trying to find balance in sexual practices and “roles.” As I say on Twitter: “The human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful.” Nothing about ArousedWoman(TM) is about hardcore porn, so find another site if that’s all you care about — there are plenty of porn & sex sites that perpetuate the pro-church, misogynistic attitudes toward sexuality. ArousedWoman(TM) is NOT one of those.
One last word on monotonous dance music… If a man can only move his hips in one rhythm, he’s a dud in bed. Give me a man who can fuck the 1812 Overture, and we’ll talk.
I went to bed late last night — actually, early this morning. It was after 2:30 a.m. that I finally stopped replying to tweets, took my shower, and got in bed (and replied to some more tweets). I allowed myself the late night because this morning would be Saturday, and Saturday mornings are my SASO’s and blended O’s time.
I was doing my hands-on blended O stimulation, and everything felt wonderful. I didn’t try thinking about Mr. Dream Man, I just focused on my body — the amazing sensations of the arousal, the shaking of my legs, the zinging energy, the heat raising up, my whole body really coming alive after a full night of rest and a long time of spontaneous O’s, nipple-gasms, and gentle clit-gasms just moments before. Truly wonderful.
Then I reached a certain point of arousal where I seemed to have slipped into neutral. I wasn’t progressing toward climax, nor was I regressing to less arousal. I was… stuck… in neutral gear…
I had marked the time when I started since I’d noticed hands-on blended O’s had started taking a while to experience, sometimes 30 minutes or longer. Now being stuck in neutral, trying to avoid conscientious time-noting, ego-driven minutes-counting, I was growing frustrated. The mind noise began. Should I just stop? (Too horrible to contemplate.) Should I try some fantasy? (Tried. Failed.) How long before I’m just totally ego-driving this process? (I really want to experience the yummy blended orgasms.) Does that guy outside really have to use a leaf blower in the middle of the day? Can’t he just use a push-broom or a rake on those leaves? Jeez….
Being “stuck” in neutral gave me a unique vantage point to observe my body — the changes through the arousal process, the jolts of energy still zinging up my legs, my glutes clenching, my hips rhythmically raising and lowering on the bed. And perhaps best of all, I was incredibly wet! My previous fears that my body was experiencing hormonal changes that were affecting my vaginal fluid production were allayed, thanks in no small part to my resumed regimen of chia seeds, fish oil, dark chocolate, and lots of water. I was ecstatically happy about the incredible amount of juices covering my vulva and upper thighs.
I must have been stuck in neutral for 10 minutes or longer. My attention kept being drawn to my left hand, the one working my prostate, feeling my hand sliding around on the vaginal and prostate fluids. My wonder at the physical process occurring sparked a thought… This extended, consistent stimulation of my clit and prostate is one of the hallmarks of arousal that brings about female ejaculation. I thought on that another few seconds. If I kept doing exactly this — this left-hand pressure and thrusting on my prostate, this right hand stim of my clit, my wetness, my clenching — I was bound to finally achieve true female ejaculation! How awesome would that be?!
The moment I had that thought, I could feel my inner clit squeezing like a vice-grip as its blood-filled erectile tissue expanded inward against my vaginal walls. I knew that feeling was the first cue of impending multiple orgasms. Except now, I wasn’t ready to orgasm! I wanted to feel this ejaculation cruise control! But I didn’t have any towels, and with the colder weather, I had my duvet on me and didn’t want to soak it. So I resolved myself to probably not ejaculating in one gush at that time — I was satisfied with the rhythmic release of fluid throughout the session.
When the orgasms began, I was mystified by their intensity and power. That “neutral” gear had served a purpose! It did something to my body — whether it was solely physical or a mind-body combo — that laid a foundation for the orgasms that literally rocked my world in that moment… for many moments… My whole body was involved in this process — I crunched forward repeatedly, my knees were up, my hips were rocking up toward my hands. I kept rolling over to my left side, my legs started kicking. I was making all sorts of weird moans — some lower pitched, some higher, all wild woman.
After I couldn’t use my hands anymore — my arms flew up over my head — my hips and legs were still going. Without the need for keeping my hands where they were, I rolled back and forth, my back arched, my nipples brushed back and forth against the sheet spurring the nipple-gasms and more back-arching. I felt the insane throbbing in my labia, my vagina, perineum, anus, energy zaps up and down my legs, all of it signaling an array of delicious orgasms, both body-centric and energy-induced.
As I lay in bed, still somewhat panting from the orgasms, I noticed a strange sensation in my left hand. Energy was zinging up my fingers, up my hand, and into my arm. Usually energy comes up my legs or out my left foot (at the ball of my foot). This was different. It felt as if my fingers were plugged into an electrical outlet and electrical energy was shooting up my fingers and up my arm to my neck, scalp, and face. Then I noticed I felt a similar electricity/energy up my right hand and arm.
All in all, this session from start to the end of the orgasms (that I was able to hand stimulate) was 21 minutes. Absolutely 21 minutes of incredible bliss — and so worth that neutral gear interlude in the middle. Like a symphony, the “lull” in the middle just laid the groundwork for the crescendo of the last movement, building up to the fireworks at the end.
I laid there, stunned by the awesome power of the experience. I can only hope that if I again experience that “lull” of neutral gear, I’ll remember this experience and know even that down-swing of the cycle has a purpose. I’m not broken, my practice is going fine. And I’m grateful for this experience to amaze in wonder at my body, the rising levels of orgasms possible, and the necessary ebb and flow of the arousal process.
Aroused and cruisin’,
* Read Part 1 here. *
Also, this September, I noticed how my clitoral orgasms are not as explosive and separate from my vaginal/prostate orgasms as they used to be. Instead of an obvious explosion, that typifies the clit orgasm, my clitoral orgasms have become much fuller, more like full-body expansion up my torso and through me in waves rather than being localized to the clit in a hot quick burst of release. These new clitoral orgasms (in conjunction with prostate stim) have been amazing.
My prostate orgasms have been insanely intense, and yet I have not felt the awakening in my prostate that I had hoped for since resuming my practice in August. I could still be in a time of adjustment, or my prostate could be so integrated now that my body is now accustomed to the sensations that were once so new and startling. (Which sucks because I love when my prostate is so awake I literally can’t sit still.) However, I know my prostate is very much awake and attentive because I have urination orgasms almost every time I go to the bathroom. And of course, the blended orgasms are truly out of this world.
On a side note, since crossing that threshold into being 40, I have noticed since September that I’m not as wet as I used to be. I know my caffeine intake is too high, and I’ve been forgetting to take my fish oil, but not being crazy-wet all the time has me concerned about my hormone levels as well as my hydration and diet regimen. I eat pretty well — on the rare occasion too much sugar, but nowhere near what I used to consume. So I’ve made a conscious effort to lay off most sugar/starch, take my fish oil, eat my dark chocolate, and drink LOTS of water. I can tell when I’m properly hydrated by the prostate orgasms that radiate through my torso and up my spine to my scalp and face when I go to the bathroom. No orgasm while urinating? CHUG ICE WATER.
I’ve been trying to do my Sparkles-assisted sessions on Monday, Wednesday, Friday — during the day, since I’m loud, saving my hands-only, quieter, blended, wake-up O’s for Saturdays and/or Sundays.
Today, I experienced again what had been happening for the past couple of weeks. Starting the session later than I prefer puts me in a bit of a stress mode since I like to have my “lying broken” time first to clear the mind fuzz. If I have less than 3 hours, I usually don’t bother. But today, I had less than 2 hours, but really wanted to have a session, so I went for it… which may have been what set me up for the resulting disappointment.
By not having my “lying broken” time, the mind fuzz was all a-chatter in my head. Life, work, this blog, Twitter, updating my site, hoping I can raise enough funds to start my radio show and forum, organizing my own orgasm training method in my head — my mind would not slow down, shut off, or shut up. And yet, I proceeded. Pathetically. I did about 15 minutes of sounds on Aum, doing light sensual massage. After a minute, I had some light nipple-gasms (disappointed that it took that long). A few minutes into the Aumming, I started clit massage. Took a good minute to get an OM-clit-gasm. (Disappointing.) Trying to put a finger in, there was vaginal fluid at the opening, enough to insert my finger to stim my prostate, but certainly not enough to accommodate my purple silicone friend, Sparkles.
This had been going on for a few weeks now. Too much caffeine and not enough vag fluid. I always use lube with Sparkles, but now being 40, the idea of being one of “those” women who can’t get wet sent a panic through me. My ex used to complain about how wet I got during sex — he would pull out and use the sheet to wipe me off till my vulva was bone dry and he could get friction (the fact that it hurt me didn’t seem to matter) — what mattered now was that I may have wasted over a decade of being a natural female ejaculator with a man who hated my amount of fluids! Somewhere in my psyche, I may have shut that down, and now being 40, the natural hormonal changes to my body might prevent me from ever ejaculating! GRRRRRRRR!!!!!! (I’m not sure about this as a point of fact, but that was the fear that ran through my head… as if I had room for more mind noise…)
So what the hell was the point?! Why am I doing this?! Why don’t I just stop — call it a day? I’ve done that before. This time, I couldn’t just stop. I wasn’t having a female blue-balls moment (yes, we can get those). Quite the contrary, I could have very easily just gotten up. But I was so annoyed that my routine was interrupted by starting late, my vagina was dry from my over-consumption of caffeine, and my mind would just not shut the fuck up. And now it was glaringly obvious that I was so attached to the outcome, I couldn’t just end the session out of separation anxiety… What if my fabulous, life-altering orgasm journey is caput? What if the ride is over and the cosmic carousel operator is trying to get me to move the hell on — and what, take up knitting?!
Granted, the “worst,” most “disappointing” orgasm nowadays is better than the best orgasm I ever had prior to beginning this journey. But I feel like I’ve learned so much about myself, and I have so much more to learn, that it just can’t be “over!” It can’t continue to be a series of technically great orgasms that don’t resonate with me vibrationally!!
So I soldiered on with Sparkles, had a physically great orgasm … and then, the worst did, in fact, happen. I cried… but not in euphoria, but rather in disappointment. This was the first time that I remember crying out of the lack of something, something was missing, and I was sad in my heart. It dawned on me later that what’s missing just might be a physical partner.
Having soared to incredible peaks on my own, I know I’m more than ready for a partner, but my current life circumstances prevent me from pursuing pleasure with someone else. This is not only sexually frustrating, but it hurts my heart. I believe I have a great deal to offer a man, especially in the sex/orgasm department, but I can’t pursue anything until my divorce is finalized. And so Asshole — my ex — still has a power over me. I fear that having any kind of sexual relations “outside of marriage” (though I moved out 2 years ago), will be used against me to the point of losing custody of my daughter. That is exactly what has happened to other women (it’s part of living in a Bible-thumpin’ Red State). Another added layer of mind noise moves to the forefront.
I feel suddenly broken in many ways, and yet, I’m at a fork in the road, but I don’t know which way to go. As a friend told me, my energy is scattered. I know my heart is here with my activism and ArousedWoman(TM). Hopefully, my emotional heart will be able to find its place with a partner soon enough… Bring on the ice water!
Aroused and scattered,
As I laid down to start the session, I wondered if I’d be able to do it. I had come down with something that felt like a cold. I felt weak and tired. My nose had alternated between runny and/or stuffy, and I was coughing. I realized then that this cold must have been starting early last week, when I had the clit debacle. My body must have, in her wisdom, been redirecting energy to my immune system. Experiencing orgasm, especially manually stimulated orgasm, takes an inordinate about of energy — chi, prana. This is why physical orgasms are exhausting while energy-based and spontaneous, Kundalini orgasms recycle and grow energy.
Not knowing what to expect, I made the conscious decision to be in non-attachment. Being tired (at 1:00 in the afternoon, no less), I wasn’t sure I could do a full session anyway. I made an agreement with my body to just experience whatever there was to experience, and I would be satisfied and content.
Similar to last session (and most sessions), I started with my nipples. But there was excruciating pain. My period is well over a week off, so why such painful sensitivity, I had no idea. I massaged the underside of my breasts to stim those nerve endings, and gently brushed my fingertips over the nipple tips, and that helped to lessen the pain. The nipple orgasms took a minute longer to achieve than their usual instant O’s, but I was glad that they were “working”…. and apparently was back in an ego mindset of “keeping tally.” I re-set my mindset to non-attachment, and my hands headed south.
Doing a simple, small, barely-there caress on my clit, these orgasms took a minute or so to get going as well. My SASO’s seemed to be on coffee break. Everything was going to take effort today … just when I’m sick and tired.
As I checked for readiness at my vaginal opening, I was almost bone dry. I’d been feeling “parched” in my throat and feared I’d be dry vaginally, too. Sure enough, I was. Thinking back, my caffeine levels were way too high compared to my water intake. Caffeine is the death of orgasm because of its vaso-constriction of blood vessels — and both men and women require healthy blood vessels for arousal and physical orgasm.
At this point, I knew I probably wouldn’t do anything with Sparkles. A little lube is always used with Sparkles, but starting out not wet and relying only on lube for moisture leads to “friction sex” and that is painful. With my immune system low and my SASO’s on vacation, I knew this would be hands-only today.
I started by creating moisture, continuing nipple O’s and clit O’s. This brought on enough fluid that I could insert my fingers to love on my prostate. As she grew with arousal and her texture changed from smooth to ridged, I started on my clit with circles. I did not wet my clit. In fact, I usually start with dry fingers on either side of my hooded clit. This allows me to get a hold on the clitoral shaft, stimulating up and down the shaft as well as across the head. (Note: Do NOT try this on a woman without her permission. I know what I’m doing and what I’m feeling. If using dry touch, definitely let the woman lead. And pay attention to her reactions!)
I didn’t even pay attention to the time. I just enjoyed whatever was there to feel and savor. All of my previous concerns melted away as I got close to orgasm — I could feel my prostate was swollen as were the clitoral vestibules squeezing in like a vice-grip on my fingers. The blended orgasm was powerful and seemed to keep going and going. I finally had to stop because I could not manipulate my hands anymore. I was exhausted. Then it happened.
I cried. Emotion had bubbled beneath the surface last time, but this was emotion that I experience only after deep-thrust, A-spot/uterine orgasms. I felt that same outpouring of happiness, sadness, joy, wishful thinking, and longing that I feel after penetrative orgasms. I’ve never actually cried after a blended orgasm, but this was a great experience.
I looked over at my toy and thought, “What’s the point?” I was incredibly satisfied so I didn’t need the penetration — the rapid finger-thrusts on my prostate had taken care of that need.
As I lay back, the after-O’s in my vagina, vulva, abs, and legs were so palpable, I had a spontaneous orgasm or two. The energy pulsated through me. I noticed I was having similar muscle spasms in my right bicep. After a minute or so of very strong muscle contractions in the bicep head, the spasms moved around my arm to the triceps, and eventually faded as the contractions in my vagina, anus, abs, and hips slowed down.
Hours later, at my desk, I felt an energy radiating outward from my vaginal opening area. If you’ve ever seen a stylized drawing of a sun, with rays beaming outward in all directions from the perimeter of the sun center, that is what this felt like. This energy kept pulsating outward, a steady rhythm from my vaginal opening center, outward toward my legs. I don’t know how long this went on, but other energy zaps and zings occurred on the outsides of my legs, scalpgasms that circumferenced my head and tickled my face, and even spasms on the bridge of my nose — didn’t think there was any muscle there — that seemed to last for over an hour. In fact, they continued when I was back at my desk later, trying to work.
Overall, this was an interesting experience that left me breathless and deeply satisfied physically and emotionally. The unexpected emotion was as welcome as the after-effects of spasms and energy zings. I’m excited to see and feel what else happens.
Aroused and non-attached,
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Released on Kindle a few months ago, Chapter 6 of Confessions of an Aroused Woman is now available as a .PDF for only $3.00. Based on personal experiences, Confessions of an Aroused Woman is a fictionalized series of erotica vignettes that is women-positive, sex-positive, and all-around fun to read.
Reviews on Amazon.com:
Refreshingly, realistically, erotic May 31, 2012 ~ By B. Lee
Trish Causey’s writing is as informative and exciting as her website. It is fascinating to read her first-person accounts of what an aroused woman feels and does. The scene in which she is showing her man her masturbation, describing in exquisite detail her actions and sensations and thoughts, while he honors her arousal and gradually contributes to it, is intense! The chapter is so descriptive, hot, and wet, that it’s almost an erotic case study, and men-loving women would do well to take notes, with a towel nearby.
An open door…May 31, 2012 ~ By Saloonsinger
I read with relish this chapter of Confessions of an Aroused Woman. Ms. Causey writes with power and emotion. She takes us with her on a journey into being her complete and sexual self, and in so doing opens the door for each of us to recognize the same power within us. I highly recommend her as someone to keep an eye out for in the book world.
One of my Twitter followers wrote on 09-03-12:
Purchase Chapter 6 for only $3.00… to tide you over until the entire book is ready for publication! Be sure to type in your email address, so I can email the .PDF to you.
‘ CONFESSIONS OF AN AROUSED WOMAN’ – CHAPTER 6 ~ $3.00
When you click through to the PayPal side, be sure to type in your email address in the comment area, so I can email you the .PDF. You will receive it within 12 hours of PayPal notifying me of your purchase.
Thank you! And I really hope you enjoy it. MUAH!! xoxo
Copyright 2012 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
It’s been said that every woman fakes orgasms at some point. Well, I’m here to tell you I never did. Never. I never had an orgasm during partnered sex, and I sure wasn’t going to fake it. I made sure the guy knew I wasn’t seeing god, or cosmic rainbows, or magickal unicorns just because his penis was inside me. He could deal with his ego later.
Recently, I read a particular, highly recommended book on cunnilingus but had a difficult time finishing it. The anatomic information was mostly good, but the male writer’s anecdotes about female orgasm were peppered with sexist, rude, even misogynist remarks I simply could not overlook. Having admitted that he was bad at sex and suffered with erectile issues, the author made the egregious comment that screamers and women who throw their heads back are “obvious” orgasm fakers.
I wanted to throw the book across the room, but unfortunately, I was at a restaurant. (Yes, I read sex books while eating… lunch.)
Women are complex creatures and are, thusly, capable of complex, varied types of orgasms. It only makes sense that the body and the face would have different corresponding reactions. Yes, I said body. Were you only watching her face?
For a traditional clitoral orgasm, the orgasm is localized to the clit/genital area. The woman’s torso will most likely crunch forward. The hips/pelvis will tuck or raise up off the bed. Her face will similarly be “crunched” into a look she wouldn’t really want to make otherwise: furrowed brow, gritting the teeth, even jutting the jaw forward. (I could go into my theory on why this is but I would have to bore you with vocal science and the pedagogy of phonation.)
A vaginal/She Spot orgasm tends to be a full-body wave type of orgasm that washes over the body but lacks the explosion of the clitoral orgasm. The woman’s mouth will be open, the jaw down and back, and she may moan differently because of it. Her head may tilt backward, and she may even arch her back. Please note the vagina has numerous spots capable of various kinds of pleasure and responses.
A blended orgasm that stems from both clitoral and vaginal/She Spot simulation is one of the most sought after orgasms because of its full-body wave effect coupled with the clit explosion. This orgasm can induce both crunching forward and wild hip motions, plus arching backward, head back, and delicious moaning.
Other types of orgasms include nipple O’s, cervical O’s, orgasms of the P-spot, the K-spot, the perineal sponge, urethral/urination orgasms, anal O’s, and anywhere else on the body that she is super sensitive to touch.
Of all the physically-based orgasms, the most intense, for me, personally, is the uterine orgasm. The uterine orgasm is brought on by stimulation of the cervix and A-Spot, coincidentally stimulating the prostate/She Spot at the same time. This results in a compulsory doubling over and emotional outburst — a true gut-wrenching thrashing usually accompanied by uncontrollable crying. Not pretty crying either. So the face of this orgasm is kind of like a nervous breakdown — a bit unnerving for onlookers but soul-shatteringly amazing to experience.
These signs are for physically-based orgasms that most people can do without much effort. Use plenty of lube, work the spots, communicate — not very difficult. However, energy-based orgasms cause the body to twist and contort in ways unimaginable.
Kundalini orgasms are known for inducing a sharp, sudden, involuntary arching of the back, in both women and men. While some men consider arching the back to be a “woman’s” type of orgasm, I like to think of this phenomenon as a “human being’s” orgasmic response. For Kundalini orgasms, the mouth may be wide open, deep moans being heard, while the head is bent so far back, you might think the woman is going into a gymnast’s backbend. All of this is involuntary. (And pretty frickin’ incredible!)
So what is the face of a woman who is having real orgasms? Not something she’d want posted in the church’s Sunday bulletin, that’s for sure. If the woman can, in any way, be considered to look “pretty,” she’s not having a real orgasm.
If she is crunching forward and her face looks as if she is somewhere between “really pissed off” and “warrior queen about to rip your limbs from your body,” then she’s probably having a real orgasm. If her head is back, her mouth open, and her brow slightly to fully furrowed, that’s a great sign of a real orgasm as well. When her arms fly up over her head, don’t be offended! This doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to hold on to you. Especially if her hands wind up behind her head, this is a great sign of a deep, powerful orgasm. (If you’ve read my DailyOJ, you know I can vouch for this effect.)
Her eyes may be open during clitoral orgasms, but for most other types of orgasms, her eyes will probably be closed. For myself, I’ve noticed my eyes shoot open at the onset of blended orgasms but then immediately close again through the rest of the climax/multiple orgasms. For Kundalini orgasms, my eyes are closed, head is all the way back, hands fly up over my head, and my body rocks-and-rolls side to side while my knees come up, then my legs kick out over and over again. (Just sayin’.)
You decide: Which one is faking and which one is real?
Along with the facial contortions or the gaping jaw and arching back, her skin will become flush due to increased blood flow, her nipples may be so perky they’re reaching for the ceiling, and her hips (hell, most of her body) will be moving involuntarily. For energy orgasms, she will probably be rockin’-and-rollin’ side to side with extra contractions and rolling through her abdominals, not just crunching forward or arching backward as during physical orgasms.
If she can speak in complete sentences, or is constantly reassuring your ego, she might be faking for your benefit. If her words are incoherent and grabbing at you is her only primal form of communication, then you might be on the right track — to helping her orgasm.
More importantly, don’t be so visual. This isn’t porn. This is a real, live woman. You need to feel her reactions. When a woman is close to orgasm, especially if any clitoral stimulation has been done, the clitoral bulbs that form a “horseshoe” over and around the vaginal opening expand with blood flow, just as the penis expands with blood flow during arousal. This feels like a vice-grip clamping down on your penis.
(Side note: My asshole ex-husband used to tell me he didn’t like the vice-grip feeling because it made him start to lose his erection… so that’s probably why I never orgasmed with him.)
Remember, guys. You cannot “make” a woman orgasm. Orgasm begins and ends in the woman’s mind — not just her brain. Stimulate her mind first and the body will follow suit. In fact, the face and body will tell you everything if your sexual relationship is rooted in honest communication.
What does your face look like in orgasm? Send me a picture, and I just might post it!
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. :D
Waking up Saturday morning, I was in severe pain. Pain I had not felt in a while. Sunday morning brought the same, if not worse, pain in my back and neck. How bad was it, you ask? Let’s just say that Saturday and Sunday mornings were the first time in over a year I didn’t start my day by touching my breasts or my genitals. Yeah. That bad.
So not being alone at home, I did not do KSMO or Sparkles. With the pain I was feeling, I didn’t think my back could take the sudden back arches of O’s brought on by OM touch or nipple stimulation. But the weekend was not entirely uneventful. I had known I would not be doing KSMO over the weekend, so I had allowed for these two days to be “see what happens” days, the days in between KSMO sessions when the new energy patterns that were triggered in the session start to make their appearance — hence the reason Jack recommends not KSMO-ing on consecutive days.
Throughout the day, both Saturday and Sunday, I felt familiar zings of energy up my legs every now and then while working at my desk. Because it was localized to my legs, I wouldn’t call it a full deskgasm. And yet, because I know what these energies are, what they feel like, and I have an idea what they will lead to, I am very excited by their activity even though they seem small. When first experiencing these energies, it can be difficult to notice them for what they are or to appreciate them for what they actually mean. This is an encore sojourn through KSMO for me, so I recognize the signals. I’m not worried or wondering if I’m doing it right or feeling disappointed that they weren’t bigger, bolder, or more obvious.
In the shower Saturday night, doing my nightly finger check, my prostate gave another slight “hello.” After a few pulses, I checked the fluid, and again, it smelled sweet but was very thick. I had already made the mental note to drink more water that day, so I was hoping I’d see some improvement by Sunday. However, I had inadvertently eaten an Asian dish with MSG (monosodium glutamate) and was having swelling in my legs and ankles. I drank extra water to help flush it out of my system. Also, I should note, I am making sure to take my fish oil every day as well as chocolate.
Sunday had similar energy swooshes up the leg and a scalpgasm — maybe two. I even had a full-body wave-gasm — the energy starts in my feet, zooms up my left leg, around my torso, up my back, and curves around my head into a scalpgasm and ends at tickling my face, followed by a full-body shudder, a zing in the genitals, and goosebumps on my arms. Oh, and this was at my desk, so this qualifies as a deskgasm (to me).
But what really got my heart racing in a great big “We’re on our way!” thrill was the urination orgasm I had Sunday afternoon. The prostate wraps around the urethra in the female as it does in the male. Rubbing the female prostate during sex, a woman can suddenly have that feeling of needing to go to the bathroom. But if she knows her bladder is empty, she shouldn’t tense up but rather push out and get to know and enjoy(!) those full-body ripples of pleasure that can occur from prostate play. This same effect can be achieved while urinating — if the prostate is aroused or full of fluid, the rush of urine through the urethra — which stimulates the prostate — can trigger delicious O’s… or… U’s. :D
Sunday night, in the shower, I let the hot water hit my back for a while to help relax whatever muscles in my back or neck were still so tense. It was 1:30 a.m. I should have been in bed hours before since it was a school night, but I just didn’t want to sleep. My body was tired, but my brain was wide awake. Standing there, I massaged my hips through my glutes since I’d been having some recurring sciatica pain in recent weeks. I couldn’t help but brush a finger along the upper part of my butt cleavage, which months before, I had accidentally discovered to be a very sensitive erogenous zone. Moving my middle finger lower, I hit the K-spot, which is at the tip of the coccyx bone just above the anus. I got zapped with an energy wave straight up my spine to my scalp. So, yeah… I kept doing that for a couple minutes.
On the whole, this is all very encouraging. Starting back with KSMO on Wednesday, I was very happy with the progress I was already experiencing as of Sunday night. With the re-awakening of my prostate and my K-spot, the energy flowing again, the deskgasm and full-body-gasm, I am very optimistic in terms of my orgasmic development. I had a teary moment (furball) that came up Sunday afternoon — another impromptu pity party of my general inadequacy in life, career, and love. So I’m soul-searching into that. Again, I think I know what it is. I’ll write more on that when I have more information to share. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels similarly.
Aroused and zinging,
Similarly to the past two days — 08-08-12 and 08-09-12, I laid in bed over an hour, started KSMO when I was ready and that was about it. I looked at the clock when I started the 20-minute session, didn’t even set my stopwatch to time it. But I only did a few rounds of the breathing and Key Sound, and I knew I was ready to be done, so I stopped. I looked at the clock. It was only 4 minutes later. I didn’t bother with Sparkles. I wasn’t in the mood … well, I was in the mood, but my back and neck had started hurting the night before. The pain was beginning to override any would-be pleasurable feelings. But the breathing and relaxing did start to help with the pain in my back and neck.
Having to learn how to re-incorporate KSMO back into my routine without triggering stealth orgasms had been the first challenge of the past two days. The unexpected emotional “furballs” got me thinking in another direction. But at the time, after the 4 minutes was over, I noticed tingling up my left leg, which I took as a good sign. I was physically tired and hurting, so I laid there for a while trying to breathe the pain away, but eventually had to get up.
As I got on with my day, I noticed intermittent energy zings up my left leg again. As well as the occasional scalgasm. This was very encouraging to me as it meant, yes, the energies were still there — perhaps, dormant — but definitely still there.
In the shower, I did my nightly vagina check, and as I inserted my finger, I felt a jolt. Not a sharp zap like with the clit, but a deeper, more subtle, expansion of energy, a noticeable triggering of something in my prostate. I couldn’t help myself. I pulsed a few times and felt the inklings of prostate re-awakening that I have been craving for months. I was ecstatic but careful not to do too much. Doing “more” or “harder” or “faster” won’t make the sensations suddenly appear. They have a mind and a schedule (and a wisdom) all their own. It’s annoying at times to realize that my super intelligent, crafty mind can’t make my body hurry up and do what I want and be where I want it to be when I want it to be there… kind of like losing weight… which reminds me… no more brownies….
When I looked at my fingers to check the fluid, it was so thick it was less like fluid and more like a facial cream. The smell was spot on — sweet — and seeing the copious amount of prostate “fluid” from just a few pulses was definitely encouraging. But the thickness concerned me. It meant I was dehydrated. The prostate and my ultimate goal of gushing waterfalls via female ejaculation will never happen without being properly, if not, slightly over-, hydrated.
This fact alone caused me to look at everything I’m doing in totality.
Life is complete stress right now, for several reasons, which I won’t go in to here.
My schedule changed this week from my natural night-owl schedule to the enforced schedule of getting a kid on a school bus early in the mornings.
This change in schedule also changed my eating habits, sleeping habits, exercise habits — essentially, just about everything I do, plus how and when I do it.
I have also begun lowering my caffeine intake by only drinking 24 oz. of Diet Coke per day. Last week, I had remembered that when I had my big prostate/cosmic bliss orgasm breakthrough in the Fall, I was completely off Diet Coke and thoroughly hydrated. My two beverages are water and my vice, Diet Coke. No alcohol, coffee, or tea. So anticipating the return of daily sessions, I had dropped my caffeine consumption, which may be triggering detox. I definitely felt the headaches of withdrawal, but I’m not sure I want to associate my back and neck pain to the caffeine withdrawal… yet…
As I thought on all this later, I think I understand what is happening, but only time will tell if it is what I think it is…
Aroused and being mysterious,
From OM to KSMO to my personal experiences I recount in my DailyOJ, AW is gaining more readers and more Twitter followers every single day. Readers are writing in to tell me how reading this blog has helped them, and even men have reported new kinds of orgasms because they implemented some of my advice.
Below are a few examples of how Aroused Woman is making awesome changes in people’s sex lives and relationships. And I am so very honored to be a part of it.
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I got a surprise few days off from motherhood duties this week, and it afforded me some much-needed quality time with my lady’s loins. It’s not that I can’t spend time with them — I do, but not like I really want to with my loud exclamations of pleasure. My orgasms have been in stealth mode, and I’ve been trying to incorporate the stunning energy from a couple of weeks ago — when I was having the spontaneous O’s — with my everyday-pretend-to-be-a-normal-person-and-not-a-sexually-charged-wild-woman charade.
Having to adopt the “responsible mom” persona that is expected of me really puts a damper on that energy, though I discovered that underneath my walls I must put up for polite society, the energy is still very much there, bubbling and brewing well beneath the surface, but still reachable whenever I want it.
With the apartment empty and my downstairs neighbor on vacation, I decided it was time to bring out the purple vibe (sans batteries) and just go for a good ol’ loud session. I noticed that the sensations during arousal were not localized to the genitals but felt more “full” or “filling” throughout the lower abdominal/pelvic area. My abs have started going crazy during arousal and climaxing, but my legs are not shaking. And during the nipple stim/clit orgasms, I invariably turn toward my left side, so I’m assuming this is all more integration of techniques and energy.
The orgasms with the toy were different though. As I wrote earlier, the spontaneous orgasms were “blunt,” and the arousal and orgasms with the toy were, for lack of a better word, blunt. They were “through” me — no clitoral explosion, just riding the wave up, up, up, as it crested, then floating there in the orgasms, and riding it back down. Still delicious, just different.
The orgasms were emotional — I love this kind. This is why I use the toy, to reach the A-spot to trigger the uterine orgasm that is so very deep and personal and emotional. These orgasms now feel… thorough… like I’ve experienced every feeling imaginable from wanting and horniness, to arousal and raising of energy, through the orgasms, into the emotional recesses of my mind and heart and the deep, inner, primal response of my body, to the throbbing denouement of smaller orgasms, and finally into the blissful purring of satiation.
I feel a little disappointed when I don’t experience this full cycle — the emotion has become very important to my sense of sexual self. Maybe it’s just that time of life because I have been emotional during the day and occasionally at night as I work through things while I face this fork in the road.
Using the toy, my average time from start to finish is about 8 minutes, though I’ve clocked in at 6 minutes a few times, and will go 9 to 11 minutes if I’m being leisurely about it. I’m always surprised by the length of time it actually takes because while it’s happening it seems much longer. In fact, sometimes, I get into some mind noise thinking, “If I were with a guy right now, he’d be getting annoyed this was taking so long.” So then I feel pressure on myself to hurry up and make it happen.
Even though I’m not with a partner right now, I sometimes approach all of this like an athlete in training for the orgasm Olympics. I want to be ready when this dude enters my life. And taking 11 “whole” minutes to climax just might disqualify me from making the final round…
Of course, I’m only half kidding, here. Any man who wouldn’t give me 11 minutes start to finish is not worth my time and energy. And since I will require breast worship and sensual massage and other goodies first, if he’s impatient, he’ll get his ass bounced out the door. And yet, I do get the occasional mind fuzz. “If I take too long, he’ll get bored.” He might get bored anyway since all the good stuff is happening inside where he can’t see… until right before and through the orgasms when it’s rocking and rolling time.
Expectation is the opposite of non-attachment and rooted in competition, adrenaline, yang, testosterone aspects that I’m trying to move out of. I guess this is just another sign that I am a work in progress, as is my sexual awakening.
Aroused and trying to be more yin,
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* Read Part 1 here. *
On the plus side, I wasn’t comparing it to anything else. Maybe because I’m female or because I was using a small caress, but what I’m experiencing is not how I perceive what others (men) have experienced. I’m just exploring it as it is.
I’ve also noticed that my dreams have been synchronistic with my goals and metaphorical dreams. My REM-sleep dreams have been particularly… mine… and about my future. I feel my shamanic dreams are coming back.
I’ve also noticed that I’ve needed a lot less sleep lately. When I go to bed, I’m not really tired. When I wake up, I don’t have a sluggish feeling or just having awakened feeling. It’s as if it’s one continuous circle/cycle rather than an awake — go through the day — end of day — sleep — dream — wake up — lather, rinse, repeat… A natural life flow, as Jack called it.
And as I was explaining to a friend on Twitter earlier, it’s like I’m swimming in this flow of higher vibrational energy. I don’t have to “get” aroused because I’m already there. If I want an orgasm, I turn the ceiling fan on. Or just think the word “orgasm.” BAM! A big, full-body O hits wherever I am — spontaneous orgasm combustion while trying to work. Walking down the street has been difficult(!). It’s cool to be able to just think an orgasm — not think about a long scene to get in the mood — just think it, and SHAZAM! There it is… there they are. It’s really awesome.
Jack hinted that I can now actively, purposely spin the energy into something bigger. My orgasms of late have had the feeling of being expansive, or being bigger than me, but being from me and in every part of me — not just the genitals.
Recently, I have found myself sometimes taking the observer/watcher mode during arousal and even during the orgasms… wondering (even fretting) about what I look like during orgasm, what I sound like… I can’t prepare for it. When the first O hits, there is no warning… it’s just THERE!
But I don’t want to get into the trap of playing mind games. Mind noise / mind games are societal, cultural, even religious bullshit, in my opinion. To help get me out of my head, Jack suggested I think of my self and my orgasms as “here” rather than from “there” (from a specific part of my anatomy) or as if I’m going “there.” This reminded me of a popular modern witch bumper sticker: “We are everywhere.” We — witches: wise women — are indeed everywhere. And in my current experiences with my expansive, cosmic orgasms, I am even more sure that I am plugged in to true universal connectedness.
This brought up a memory of reading the definition of Woman in OSHO’s Tantra teachings — Woman as everywhere but formless until she joins with Man. I didn’t like it the first time I read it because of the implication of Woman getting her identity from man, but I’m understanding it more… (I still don’t “like” it.)
I have noticed that since I’m more aware of pronoun usage in my writing — saying my clitoris instead of the clitoris, my breasts, my prostate, loving her instead of it, has helped me integrate me and my parts into a whole that is ME. Going inside myself has opened me up to the everything that is everywhere… a very amazing feeling…. not overwhelming (yet).
Jack then threw out some more words o’ wisdom saying, “Your orgasm doesn’t come from man, they come from within you, and from Cosmos, Goddess (add all you like here who inspire…) through you.”
And THAT brought it all home for me. THAT is exactly what these orgasms have been like — happening THROUGH me! Similar to my awake/sleep cycle and my constant higher vibrational state/access to orgasms, these orgasms feel as if they are already there, already happening, I just decided to turn the switch on and enjoy a few — or a few hours of them. There isn’t a manual process of “start stimulation — raise arousal — have orgasm — end.” I’m already in the energy. I live there. It’s ready whenever I decide to jump into the stream of conscious-orgasmness. I’m just turning in, tuning in.
I’m so very grateful that I’ve received these experiences that I wasn’t expecting. It really brings home the importance and the usefulness of the non-attachment / no expectation mindset/approach.
Jack agreed, saying, “The BIGGEST stuff often tends to come through when you’re not expecting it (consciously)… because that’s when all of your alter-consciousness inner allies have a chance to whisper their teachings to you!”
And this is so very true, of course. I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. Seems I’m at another fork in the road. I’ve also been thinking about a lot of possibilities for my future with a partner. But all of that in due time. I’m taking these experiences one orgasm at a time, one self-truth at a time, one chunk of enlightenment at a time. It’s really all I can process right now.
Bliss is an energy, and it can be accessed without a partner or even without any physical stimulation at all — as I’ve learned IN SPADES this week. The “wheel” /cycle continues on… And at least, I can’t get pregnant from a ceiling fan.
Aroused, streaming, and dreaming,
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