I can think of no better place to begin discussing Mind, Body, and Spirit topics than with breathing. Considering that the act of breathing is something most of us take for granted, the role of breathwork and mindful breathing can be truly transformative to your mind, your body, and your spirit.
The process of breathing is a complex coordinated effort that involves the whole torso, not just the lungs. If you follow a yogic or body awareness path, then breathing can be a full-body sport. As a voice teacher, I start all my students on ujjayi breathing, the belly breathing technique from yoga, before we sing any scales or attempt any songs. The student must begin to incorporate ujjayi breathing into their everyday life and subsequently into their singing. Phonation (sound production) is based on airflow. While vocal science research has shown that the vocal folds are responsible for controlling airflow across the vocal folds when we speak or sing, breathing is a coordinated dance of the abdominal muscles, the thoracic and pelvic diaphragms, as well as the internal and external intercostal muscles of the ribcage (to say nothing of the bronchi and alveoli inside the lungs responsible for the gas exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide).
Deep, calm breathing has many relaxing and healthful benefits mentally and somatically.
When we are under stress, nervous, or anxious, the body releases stress hormones such as adrenaline and cortisol. An adrenal response evolved from the human body’s early days, adrenaline is great if you’re chasing a mammoth or running from a saber-tooth tiger. It’s not so great if you’re about to go on stage to recite your lines or enter a restaurant on a first date. Adrenaline floods the brain, sort of shutting down the frontal lobes, which are responsible for things like language. (Another reason being nervous before an audition or a date can leave you stumbling for words like a blithering idiot.) With the frontal cortex on coffee break, the primal brain takes over and straddles the fence in fight-or-flight mode. Deep, slow breathing can counter all of this, calming the mind and allowing the stress to be manageable so you can deal with it like a rational human and not a caveman. Breathwork allows you to focus on the task at hand or ease your pesky thoughts away if you’re trying to meditate.
Try sitting alone, with all noisy electronic devices turned OFF, and just breath deeply for 10 or 15 minutes.
Breathing is the action by which we replenish that chemical that is pertinent to our existence: oxygen. Breathing high in the chest — upper chest breathing — is a style of breathing in early English and French singing, but it is not recommended for any singing, speaking, or breathwork, in my opinion, because upper chest breathing also triggers the release of adrenaline. Breathe low in the belly, breathing down into the pelvic diaphragm. In voice, this style of breathing is called appoggio, but it is basically ujjayi breathing. I’ve been known to have students lie on the floor or sit against the wall in chair pose to feel the expansion of the back while breathing and singing. While on the floor, I have them place their binder or sheet music on their stomach so they can see when the book rises and falls and learn to associate that feeling with proper, deep abdominal expansion and contraction. A mirror is crucial to see the ribs moving outward away from the torso.
When we focus on breathing, we tend to focus on our body and our alignment, taking an inventory of how we’re doing physically. Tantra and Kundalini paths use different breathing exercises like kapala bhati and bhastrika that really, really work the body — these are powerful breath practices that require guidance from a teacher, especially if you’re engaging the body by applying “locks” at certain chakras. And in case you’re wondering, oxygen feeds orgasms!
A basic Sun Salutation is a great way to combine deep breath and body work to get the blood and oxygen flowing.
The word spirit comes from the Latin spiritus meaning “soul, vigor, breath,” derived from the word spirare which means “to breathe,” the root of both of these being spir. When we are born, the first thing we do once the umbilical cord is cut is breathe — we take in breath, we are in-spir-ed, or inspired. The last thing we do before we shake off this mortal coil is to exhale our last breath — ex-spire, or expire. In between that first inspiration and our final expiration, we take in and release breath repeatedly, or as we call it re-spir-ation, the act of respiration.
It is no coincidence to me that the lungs are located right there at the heart chakra. Whenever we are touched emotionally — in a good way or unpleasant way, we tend to either gasp, inhale quickly, or exhale in sadness or disbelief. I feel our emotions and breath are connected. Mindful breathing helps us stay rooted, grounded to the earth, when circumstances leave our mind — or our heart — reeling. Deep breathing can also lower blood pressure and slow a racing pulse.
Breathwork is absolutely fundamental to being healthy. The art of being inspired repeatedly throughout our life is as simple as breathing. When we’re overwhelmed, overly excited, can’t focus, or can’t think, deep breathing can help keep us centered and better prepared to relax into our task at hand or meditation session.
Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Back on my own during the days, I have taken to using my glass toy (which I have not yet named ), along with trying a slightly different position for my legs, and getting some great results — probably helped with my breast massage regimen and breath+sound work I’ve borrowed from Tantra and Kundalini practices.
For my orgasm sessions, I begin with just laying back and relaxing, breathing normally, letting my mind let go of the thoughts that are still buzzing across my conscious self. After 10 or 15 minutes — I don’t time it, I move on when I feel ready and mind-full (of nothing!). I start the relaxation breaths, adding in the occasional “Aum.” This lasts for maybe 15 minutes.
I add in sensual massage. Usually, I’m careful not to touch my nipples or I’ll start having energy orgasms immediately. I’ve found that if I start the massage on my clit, it lessens the sensitivity on my nipples (slightly, and only temporarily), but gentle, barely-there caresses of my clit and labia are simply luscious.
I may move to my nipples (more often than not, yes, I do) for some amazing stealth orgasms, or I’ll lightly brush my fingertips across my left hip which triggers jolts of energy up my leg to my left nipple, hardening her immediately. My right hip is not as quick to react and the energy is more subtle, but my right nipple still hardens into a pucker, reaching up to a point.
Many times recently, I have stayed there — just doing the lightest touch of my skin, my nipples, clit, and the inner and outer labia. Barely brushing my fingers over my clit shaft starts full-body orgasms that have my legs coming up, my back arched, and my head back facing the pillows, and I’m left breathless. I can keep these going for a while. These kinds of orgasms are different than “traditional” or manual orgasms in that these don’t take ANY work , and they’re like riding clouds of energy, with energy waves hitting my body like water crashing onto the seashore. I’m energized by the orgasms rather than being worn out after my usual blended orgasms (which rock my world but are exhausting).
Pressing my fingertips into my outer labia, I can feel the thick, corded bands of the PC muscles. Barely grazing my outer labia, they feel like velvet, warm and throbbing. My fingertips barely whisper across my inner labia which are still reaching outward at this point — they will lie open soon. This touch can start labia-gasms, and I can feel the texture of the inside of the inner labia change as the bloodflow to the tissue increases.
I’m still new to the direct, purposeful stimulation of my U-spot, the erectile tissue around the urethral opening. This area is usually stimulated without intention during blended/penetrative orgasms, but I am now focusing on the U-spot to help encourage my journey into female ejaculation.
Bringing my knees up to my torso definitely shortens the vagina, and it makes using the glass dildo easier on my wrist due to its curve. This makes for a wonderful stimulation of my prostate. Since the glass toy is narrower and shorter than my purple silicone friend Sparkles, it also feels more like a directional finger than a “toy” or penis substitute. I can definitely feel the tip and side as it rubs across certain spots (yes, the female prostate has more “spots” than just the G-spot/She Spot). Moving the glass toy back and forth, curving up at the side ensures the side of the prostate are stimulated as well — and this feels delicious.
Stimulation of the prostate, and most areas inside the vagina, are not as “pin-point” as stimulating the clit, but the vagus nerve and auxiliary nerves definitely make up for it by creating a feeling of a bubbling, churning cauldron of arousal energy that is ever-building, ever-growing, expanding outward through me and upward into the torso and heart chakra.
I consciously push out when stimulating the prostate directly — contrary to what “popular” opinion says to do with the stupid Kegel exercises (which actually inhibit vaginal orgasm). I LOVE the feelings that overtake me — like I suddenly have to go to the bathroom, like my insides are about to fall out — because I know my prostate is about to hit her stride and bubble over into full-body orgasms. I push out and remind myself to breathe — sometimes I catch myself and realize I’m holding my breath. There is a fetish of choking for some few-second orgasm that is ridiculous and dangerous. Oxygen FEEDS orgasms — breathe, breathe deeply, breathe fully, taking the breath into my belly and down into my pelvis… Breathing is essential to life and to orgasms… though saying “life” followed by “orgasms” seems redundant….
The double layers of muscles that line the vagina begin to rock and roll, and I manipulate them to keep them strong — so I don’t lose my skill of giving “vaginal blowjobs” (moving the vaginal walls in such a way as to give the penis the feeling of being sucked very powerfully).
Read * Part 2 * here.
* 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,
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!
Continuing on with my desire for a Bohemian, hippy, free love lifestyle, doing Tantric yoga with an earthly male god, chanting mantras, and generally taming this Kundalini energy that has become so… unwound…
Diane, a gynecologist, commented on my lament of my current weight, and she gently beeyotch-slapped me back to reality and away from the evil that is media enculturation. I’ve already written about my personal history due to my breasts’ size, my rape, and America’s obsession with breasts along with the hypersexualization of women’s bodies.
This self-hate is not normal. Hating other women is not normal. I think this competition we feel and act out is due in large part to the male machine of media, culture, and religion, all of which vilify the female form in one way or another.
Thanks, Diane, for the reality check!
May the Vagina be with you all!!!
(Click image to enlarge.)
After a morning spent enlightening the GOP teabaggers on how ridiculous they are (nicely, of course), I once again had the yearning to run away from all this election craziness — this time coupled with an insane desire to join a nudist colony… just to be free of all the status symbols society deems important or even crucial to life.
I commiserated that I haven’t lost enough weight to be naked in front of others in public and was promptly reminded that we women cannot self-sabotage ourselves by heeding the KoolAid of media and culture’s negativity.
So onward I go, through this catharsis that has me by my she-balls.
(Click image to enlarge.)
Every now and then I do post my political opinions — sometimes, my vagina and my clit need a break from all the hippy, free-(self)-love I give them. So I made an innocent little comment about capitalism, the middle class, and the GOP. Out of nowhere, some GOP teabagger makes a rude (and stupid) comment, to which I responded… several times.
So far, no response. And once again, you will see why I really just want to get this 2012 Election process over with. My body needs a break from the negative energy this campaign is producing… Talk about “pollution”!
(Click on image to enlarge.)
As a stage artist, I trained my voice for years. I studied the sounds we make and how we make them. As a writer, and especially as a lyricist, I have toiled over the perfect words to scribe for dialogue or a song because the sound of the word itself has as much of an effect on the listener as the meaning of the word.
Just talking about rape brings strong emotions from women (and men!) who have experienced rape as a teen or an adult, or rape as a child, more commonly known by its euphemistic pseudonym, molestation.
Years ago, I realized that “rape” is a harsh word just as the act of rape is harsh. The growling of the “R”, the blunt hit of the unaspirated, hard “P” mimics the sharp, precise consonants’ onomatopoeia effect of “BruTal” and “aTTacK.” Conversely, the word “molestation” rolls of the tongue, rendering the word practically useless in conveying the horror of being raped as a child and softening the disdain society might otherwise feel. Example, decide for yourself which sounds worse: “A priest molested a boy” … or … “A priest raped a boy.”
I’ve rarely talked about my “molestation” as a kid, and I’ve almost never talked about the night I was raped. Only recently did I even tell people that I was still a virgin at age 21 — it was here on this blog, actually. For some reason, our hypersexualized culture has made it shameful to hold off on sex until a person is really ready. It’s as if teens must be sexual or they’re not normal. I was normal in many ways, but still dealing with my “molestation,” I had lots of issues I had to work out on my own when I was a teenager.
Also, my rape was not “real” rape. My rape would be sub-classified as “date-rape.”
We were in my bedroom — so clearly, I was “asking for it.” I was wearing a button down shirt and jeans. In 1994, it was fashionable to wear jeans that had rips in them. Mine did, right along the ass-line of the left leg. If a woman can show some butt cheek when she wears a swimsuit or shorts, I didn’t see the harm in a little peek-a-boo of my upper thigh at the butt line. And I was in my own home.
We were talking on the bed — but neither he nor I even mentioned having sex together. The next thing I knew I was being flipped over, my shirt ripped open, and he was inside me. I couldn’t think. The shock of pain like a thousand daggers stabbing me in my core and up my spine was something I’d never felt before. I couldn’t breathe. My brain started going into survival mode, and I felt like I was about to black out. I felt as if I were falling backward into an abyss. I couldn’t feel the bed or even him in that moment, just falling and shockingly intense pain throughout my body.
I realized I was still wearing my jeans. The button was still done, the zipper was zipped. He had entered me through the rip in my jeans. Dry mouthed, I asked him to slow down so I could adjust. All the while, I’m thinking, “How did he do that? Just breathe… How did he get inside of me with my jeans still on?” He said my tightness just made him harder, so he went faster. He said he couldn’t help himself… He pulled out, pulled me on the floor to my knees and told me to suck him off — he’d been wanting me to give him a blow job “for forever,” he said. Then he grabbed my hair and rammed my head down on his erection. I was still in shock, so my mouth must have felt like sandpaper. I was in a daze, on my knees, trying not to throw up, wearing all my clothes, trying to process what was happening. Just as quickly, it was over, and he was leaving. He was a friend. Dazed, but still true to my Southern upbringing of being polite, I walked him to his apartment a few buildings over. I walked home, but noticed I couldn’t feel the ground beneath me; my legs felt like jelly.
I stood in the center of my room, looking at the bed. I felt this whoosh of fluid. I was bleeding. I bled for 4 days. I thought about going to the police, but most of the people I knew also knew him. And if it went to trial, my “character witnesses” would all say they thought I’d been whoring for years — everyone assumed I was “loose” because I had large breasts. I feared being laughed at by the male policemen, ridiculed in court, verbally attacked by the opposing lawyer — I’ve watched enough TV to know how rape accusers are treated in court.
Yet, the hardest part — the part that actually made me not report my rape — was having to say in public that I was technically still a virgin at the old age of 21. Who would believe that? So I didn’t go to the police. Or the hospital. I just prayed I had not contracted some disease. After all, it seemed getting raped was inevitable in our society, so why should I complain? It’s not like is was a “bad rape” like being mauled in an alley by a scary boogeyman.
So then, maybe I wasn’t really raped. Maybe it was “just sex” after all…. Maybe sex with all my clothes on and without my permission is just “date-sex-I-didn’t-want-to-have-especially-since-I-was-a-virgin-but-it’s-not-really-rape.” Maybe Comedy Central comedian Daniel Tosh has a funny rape-joke commentary to make on my behalf?
People still think rape only occurs when the scary boogeyman assaults a woman in the mall parking lot at 10 p.m. Most women are raped by men (or women!) they know, particularly their spouses, family members, or neighbors. Rape is not the bullshit storyline you’ll see on Lifetime Television for Victims, just like you won’t find the secrets of orgasms in a Cosmo poll.
Because of my experience, I don’t do “blow jobs” — I do oral sex on my terms. I tell a man ahead of time not to grab my hair or he’s getting a fist in his balls. I also don’t get on my knees for any man or any god. More importantly, I don’t blame all men or hate the penis for what was done to me by one man.
As the mother of a daughter, the one thing that guided me in practically every decision I have made in her care and upbringing was that I wanted her to get to the age of 18 without being molested or raped. Now that she’s 14, I’m working on making sure she has a foundation of what is right for her and that she never has to succumb to an abuser. The age of 18 is now innocuous as I no longer hold the pessimistic world view that being raped is an inevitable fact of life for women.
Rape is not inevitable. Rape is preventable. To me, “rape culture” is a society that knows rape and sexual abuse are wrong but looks the other way while mocking the survivors who are willing to speak up and shaming the survivors too scared to speak out.
When our culture stops heeding the media’s marketing and drinking the misogynist KoolAid that de-values our experiences as rape survivors, only then can we adequately prevent rape from happening. Women, men, and children are experience rape on a daily basis. Rape culture exists in religion as well as government and society. Rape is a tool of war. It’s time we put an end to the rape culture that propagates sexual abuse while it terrorizes and punishes the survivors.
Rape is not inevitable. Rape is preventable. End #RapeCulture.
* Read Part 1 here. *
I originally bought the KSMO seminar back in 2006. Life was too stressful, and I never actually did the practice. Fast forward to August 2011, my life was calmer, happier in many aspects, and I was ready to see what all this multiple orgasm thing was all about. Coming out of a miserable marriage, I was anticipating having sex again… hopefully… at some point… in the future… before I die…. Having never orgasmed during sex, I wanted to teach my body to be multi -orgasmic so I could maybe have one orgasm during sex… at least… hopefully… before I die….
In my KSMO 20-minute sessions, I would caress my breasts for 10 minutes, then my clit for about 5 minutes, then do 5 minutes simultaneous stim of my clit and my prostate. Touching the genitals is not required for KSMO, and in fact, Jack, KSMO’s discoverer, actually recommends not touching the genitals — to caress other parts of the body. But I don’t like doing what I’m told. Quelle surprise, I know.
I also never liked the actual timing of the 20 minutes. Even getting started, I would procrastinate, just enjoying laying in bed and associating the timer with yet another alarm — my life is mostly alarms going off for one thing or another at all times of the day and night, every day of the week. Scheduling in KSMO had begun to feel like another scheduled chore rather than an opportunity for training my bliss genes. And yet, if I had not scheduled KSMO, then I would not have done it — by experience, I knew I had to schedule the sessions or they wouldn’t get done.
During the actual 20-minute session, I would inevitably look at my phone’s stopwatch with disdain, thinking, “Jeez, is it 20 minutes yet? Can I just get on to the jerking off part?” (Another thing Jack doesn’t recommend — KSMO and sex on the same day. I rarely obeyed that rule either.)
Resuming KSMO after more than two months off made me a little nervous. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had taken a two-month break in the Spring and was almost sorry I did because of my prostate’s subsequent dwindling super-powers. But I want to get back into it — to start on the next climb to the next peak of whatever the next threshold might be. (No, seriously, I’m in non-attachment, I swear!)
I laid in bed for about an hour, enjoying the calm, the CD playing softly in the background, just having some peace to myself. I knew I was going to do KSMO, but I felt no rush, no schedule to do it. I couldn’t help having some stealth O’s — after all, they’re now synonymous with my sexual identity. I can’t prevent the spontaneous O’s anyway. (Like I would try?! ) But I did not overtly go for orgasms. I caressed my body and just happened to enjoy some spontaneous O’s as well. With several rounds of those out of the way, I figured I was ready for KSMO. I felt no rush, and surprisingly, no “need” to do KSMO. I started the KSMO session when I wanted to start it. This is a huge leap in my mindset from where I had been just a few months ago! So I figured I’d do what I had done last Fall since that had worked so well. And so I began…
First Mistake ~ I brought by hands up to my breasts and as soon as my fingertips touched my pert nipples, I suddenly had 3 concurrent back-arching, knee-raising nipple orgasms. Damn…. This was how I always started out my sessions, to warm up my clit indirectly and get the energy flowing. This wasn’t going to work. On to Plan B.
Second Mistake ~ Plan B. I reached down between my legs where I brushed my fingertips lightly along the fringe of my inner labia, and a rush of heat washed up my body. I touched my fingertip to my clit in Om-touch style, and BAM! More full-body orgasms, with breathless gasps, torso twisting and thrashing, and hips off the bed. This really sucked.
How am I supposed to do my KSMO sessions now without being able to touch my favorite spots?
I decided to try what Jack actually recommends, which really annoyed me because I don’t like doing what I’m told to do. I started a gentle touch to the inside of my left thigh and felt tingles throughout the left side of my body. I remembered this from before.
Without being able to touch my breasts, my torso felt neglected. My body actually yearned for touch there. I used my hands to caress up and down the center of my torso, from my sternum — where I could feel the vibrations of the Key Sound in my chest — down to my mons pubis. I had never tried this before, and it felt weird to feel the softness of my breasts contrasted with the hardness of my nipples against the insides of my arms. My arms really liked it.
During the 20 minutes, my mind wandered occasionally, and that was okay. I was never really far from being fully mindful of my body. I mean, if I had know the insides of my arms would get turned on by feeling my nipples, I’d have done that 25 years ago! So I acknowledged the new information, filed it in my head, and moved on.
What I really noticed — and really made me happy — was the lack of negative emotion associated with my mind wandering or my body responding differently that she used to or differently than I expected. There was no expectation or reward to look forward to. The experience simply was what it was, and that was all it needed to be. This is a huge leap for me! To be more Yin, just accepting of the experiences as they happen, not processing them immediately, just experiencing them — experiencing them without the mind fuzz of guilt, regret, disappointment, or schedule-envy. Whatever happened was okay. I listened to my body and let her lead. I paid attention to my body so she could teach me what she wanted, what she needed, explore what she was now able to do, feel where she wants to go next.
At the end of the 20-minutes, I was relaxed and fully sated in the experience of self-exploration, mindfulness, and non-attachment. I did not feel the emotion of being “glad” it was over. Quite simply, the session was complete, and I was moving on to the next phase. So, then the rest is pretty mundane….
Fucked Sparkles, had boisterously loud orgasms, cried, blah, blah, blah…
Aroused and back on the path,
* Read Part 1 here. *
On the plus side, I wasn’t comparing it to anything else. Maybe because I’m female doing KSMO, or because I was using OM touch as my caress, but what I’m experiencing is not how I perceive what others (men) doing KSMO 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,
So… more mental meanderings today…
As an artist, my brain works in circles and not usually a linear path — or as a friend once told me, “Your mind works like an 8-track tape. There are 8 tracks going at all times, but you jump from one track to another as you please, and the rest of us have to keep up.”
So I was pondering KSMO and how to make the best use of my time while I’m on Stealth KSMO for the next couple of weeks because of the holidays. I am also working on energy raising — and NOT chasing those darn incredible prostate orgasms I experienced last month!
I happened upon this — Tarot (dot com’s) Tarot Card o’ the Day. I do not frequent this site — it was a total coincidence — but then, I don’t ordinarily subscribe to coincidences. Today, the card is Temperance… not a card I usually like since I am an action-oriented person (waiting? patience? never!!!) But here is what it said:
Metal, forging, fire? Okay, THAT I can groove with, and it totally makes sense.
I used to do historical re-enactment (while on a break from doing theatre — side note: this was the biggest mistake I ever made!). At events, I would watch the blacksmiths making swords and helms. They spent all day and night building the fire, stoking the fire, firing the metal, plunging it into water, then shaping it with a hammer or mallet into what would be a sword or dirk, rounding the helm, molding the bosses and other decorative elements that would be welded on. Then the metal would go back into the fire again to start the process over, which would be repeated until the sword or helm was strong enough to handle a blow and not break — yield or bend, perhaps, but not break. (On Japanese swords, you can actually see the waves of layers of the forging and shaping process.)
Then they use various tools to refine and polish the metal, such as chisels (on the decorative bits & sharp edges), buffers to smooth and shine, etc. It reminded me of the old story of when Michelangelo was asked how he created the famous David statue, his purported reply was, “I chipped away all the bits that weren’t David.”
Creating these tools is a process. Creating art is a process. I am a process. Becoming multi-orgasmic is a process. Achieving cosmic orgasms is a process. This reminds me to let go of the mind noise (even when I’m stressed) and chasing the bliss (especially when I’m frustrated), and just chip away at all the bits that aren’t conducive to orgasms by allowing them to be recognized and released and enjoy all the amazing experiences Tantra, KSMO, and Kundalini are triggering.
I will focus on tempering my fire, allowing the forging of new orgasmic pathways within me. That is my homework.
Aroused and stoking the fire,