Arts, Activism, Awakening in Mind, Body, & Spirit

mind noise

DailyOJ 06-23-14: Getting Back Into My Body


nude-woman-in-solitude-peachI can’t believe how long it has been since I wrote my last true DailyOJ post.  It seems like a lifetime ago that I was on my regular meditation and awakening practice, but I felt I needed a break due to everything that was going on.

So on 02-03-14, I took a break from writing here on my ArousedWoman Blog as I officially entered the campaign to be a Congressional candidate.  I had started back to college in October, around the same time I finally decided to run for Congress.  The ensuing months were some of the most mentally stressful I’ve had in a while.  I was over-extended and being pulled in so many different directions — home life, rebounding from the loss of a job, starting my Musical Theatre Magazine for income, going back to college, throwing my hat in the ring for Congress, being a single mom, running this blog, trying to finish other writing and music I had started, my computer crashed in December, starting another fitness certification, and other things I can’t even remember now.  It was just too much.

In April, I had to take a leave of absence from school to focus on my campaign, but the campaign ended June 3rd, when I lost my bid to be the Democratic candidate for my district.  Which is fine.  What I learned about politics taught me that my place is here as an activist.

My second-to-last DailyOJ post was on 09-16-13, so to sit here and realize it has been over 9 months since my last real DailyOJ is just strange.  Nine months is the gestation period of a child, from conception to birth.  This impels me to wonder, what did I give birth to?  What was brewing in the womb of life experience these past nine months?  What did I think I was conceiving?  What do I have to show for this amount of time and work and stress and even grief?

Not much.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing yoga.  My three+ miles that I walked every single day rain or shine dwindled down to one on many days, and closer to the primary election, sometimes zero miles.  I had an allergic reaction to some store-bought bread (again), which made me gain weight and inner inflammation that I’m still dealing with.  The stress of fending off the evil ring-wing nut-jobs on social media sent my cortisol levels up, which didn’t help my body at all.  And mostly, I just didn’t like how being in the political arena made me feel as a person.

I’ve worked hard to overcome my natural warrior tendencies, to incorporate more yin wisdom.  But politics is all yang — and not the good aspects of yang.  Politics is an evil, dirty, money-driven business based on extreme competition that I personally found to be destructive on many levels.

For me and my body, what concerned me most was how my energy level dropped.  I don’t mean energy, as in feeling like getting up and going somewhere, I mean my true energy, my life force, my palpable connection to the universe and everything around me that actually matters to me.  Because politics is so based in low-energy matters like money (economy, budget/deficit, jobs, etc.), I felt my energy just fade away.  I no longer felt my energy buzzing up my legs, or my Kundalini spine-zaps that circle around to tickle my face, or the out-of-body heartgasms, or the energy that bounces off my arms when I think about something I love or something that makes me happy or makes me laugh.  Nothing about politics gave me good vibes.  I tried focusing on the fact that I was wanting to help the people of my area, and I focused on being me, not a puppet politician that the media expects a candidate to be.  I spent so much energy deflecting the negativity of the political scene, that I had no energy left over for me, my well-being, and my needs.

I had lost my connection to my body.  When I would try to do a practice session, my mind was on politics.  When I was sleeping at night, I’d wake up at 3 a.m., and think about politics.  Because I was virtually alone in my campaign, it all rested on me to do a good job.  I felt a responsibility to the people who saw themselves represented in me, a progressive liberal candidate in a Red State.

My sessions became less about my practice and solely about trying to have orgasms.  Therein was the major problem.  “Trying” for pleasure is a sure-fire way to ensure true pleasure eludes you.  My orgasms, while still amazing on any orgasm-o-meter, were different.  They were no longer full-body.  They were localized to my genitals.  They were rarely as emotional as I was accustomed to.  I didn’t know my body anymore.  And I couldn’t focus enough on my practice when I had them to raise my energy again.

I will say again as I’ve said before — My “worst” orgasm now is infinitely better, bigger, and more pleasurable than the best orgasm I ever had before my awakening.  But at this point, I’m used to a certain level of mind-blowingemotional orgasmic experience.  Regular, genital-centric orgasms simply will not do.

I’ve also said many times that orgasm is an energy, and when I’m in that energy, it’s like living in a completely different vibration.  I’ve told people the feeling is like orgasm is a higher vibration level, and whenever I’d want a sudden orgasm, I just stand on my tip-toes, and I’m there, in that energy field, and they just happen — whenever, wherever I want them.  My body is amazing.

Or she was … before I got the crazy idea that I should enter politics.

The primary was June 3rd.  I got 44.6% of the votes, but lost.  The follow-up after the campaign lasted about 9 to 10 days, and as voters began to focus on the unfolding dramas elsewhere in the crazy world of Mississippi politics, I bowed out, thinking I’d get back to doing what I do.  This is when my body crashed.  Simply crashed.  I spent a few days in thorough lethargy, allowing my body to release the pent-up exhaustion that had accumulated over the course of nine months on the campaign trail.  This was when I fully realized what I had done to my body and my psyche and my spirit by following a path I had intrinsically known was not for me, but that my activist self thought I could strong-arm my self through — for the greater good, for standing up for our rights, for speaking up for the right thing.  I have always despised politics, and now, I had reaped the lesson of what happens when you don’t listen to your true self.

Now, it’s summer.  I’m not home alone during the day … or night.  So I can’t do a full practice on a regular basis.  I still enjoy my stealth orgasms.  In fact, even my nipple-O’s and stealth clit O’s had begun to wane in intensity.  In the past week, I’ve been trying to get more sleep, and even though I’m still only getting five to six hours of actual sleep, I’m staying in bed to rest a few hours more to get at least eight hours of sleep/rest in so my body can heal.

Because I’m a single mom, I won’t be able to get back to my regular practice until the Fall, but I will do what I can with my stealth O’s through the summer.  That might be a good thing actually — allow my body to finish processing all this politics B.S. and regroup.  I will allow my fire to come back gradually.  I am focusing on positive, life-affirming, creativity-inspiring pursuits, like my new online workshop.  I am ready to help people who want to be helped.  I will get back into a regular yoga practice.  I will dismiss the wheat and sugar that somehow crept back into my diet (and devastated my body).

By August, I should be back to myself — or introduced to my new self, a woman who has learned so much on this journey and who is ready to be aroused in mind, body, and spirit once again.

Aroused and healing,

trish

LINKS:

CONNECT:

link-fblink-twlink-pinlink-tum

 


AW RADIO: Trish Causey Discusses the Mind, Body, & Spirit Benefits of Meditation


ArousedWoman Radio with Trish Causey - 2013Tonight’s show of ArousedWoman Radio featured the topic of meditation, and my guest was my friend, Beverly, who practices different types of meditation.

She shared her personal experiences with Vipassana and Transcendental Meditation as well as yogic-based meditation such as a Kundalini practice.  We also talked about focal point and guided meditation styles.  I related my experience using bi-aural brain-wave entrainment CD’s.

Check out the replay here on AW Radio, then leave a message below telling me your experience with meditation — why it has or has not worked in your practice.

Namaste,

trish

LINKS:

CONNECT:

 

 


RADIO: Trish Causey Talks With William Buhlman About Astral Travel & OBE’s


Big-Bang-OrgasmTonight on The Trish Causey Show, I talked with astral travel and out-of-body experience expert William Buhlman.

Here’s the link to the replay:  Trish Causey Talks With William Buhlman About Astral Travel

Bill has over 40 years of experience with his own OBE’s and teaches his technique around the world as well as at the famed Monroe Institute in Virginia.

On the show, some of the topics we covered included the following:

  • What is the Astral Plane, and what is beyond
  • Spiritual experiences (NOT religious!) due to having an OBE
  • Astral sex (of course, I had to ask!)
  • Dreams, meditation, past lives, religion, angels, and more!

Listen to the show, and then leave your comments HERE!  Can’t wait to read what you thought of this cool topic.  I truly enjoyed chatting with William Buhlman.

Have a look at some of his books below, and he told me after the show that he has a new book coming out on the afterlife.  So I’ll have him back on the show soon to discuss that!

Thank you all for listening!

trish

Recommended Reading:


Mind, Body, Spirit: Breathing ~ the Importance of Being Inspired Repeatedly


phoenix-gold-fire-blaze1I 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.

Mind:

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.

Body:

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.

Spirit:

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.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

trish

Recommended Products:

Links:


DailyOJ 01-26-13, Part 2: The Fear of Intimacy


Lovers Tango - Aroused-Woman* Read Part 1 *

Today was a great day. So I was a bit surprised by the slight emotional breakdown I just experienced.

It wasn’t caused by my intactivism on Twitter (explaining the horrors of both male circumcision and female genital cutting), or the raucous festivities happening just outside my apartment from the day parade of the local Mardi Gras krewes. I spent some time earlier researching vitamins for healthy skin since I’ve now lost 82 pounds, but my skin is not shrinking as fast as I’d like — apparently, it can take 2 years or more for skin to retract, assuming a woman has good genes, doesn’t have any more children, and bathes in the blood of virgins… (just kidding… not sure about that last part).

I digress…

I think the breakdown may have been triggered by an impromptu conversation in the chat room of the AW Forum on the subject of emotion and sex.

Taking a break from the Twitterverse and looking for something to watch online, I remembered the amazing feelings from this morning, and the generally great feelings I’d had all day. I got a flash — a vision — in my mind’s eye about being with a partner, my Dream Man, as I call him. Not having sex, our clothes were on, in fact. I was just kissing his collarbone. And I suddenly burst into tears.

I had trouble breathing. I could feel the rush of adrenaline’s “fight or flight” rash-choice-conundrum rushing to the fore. Not prone to panic attacks, I was most concerned with why I was having this freak-out moment. Then I remembered a revelation I’d had when writing my breasts article about having never really known tenderness during sex. During the Twitter intactivism tonight, I had had to explain how friction sex can be painful — how my ex used to complain I got too wet during sex, he couldn’t get friction, so he’d pull out and use the sheet to dry me and him off and come back in to jackhammer away till he ejaculated…. The feelings that were now shaking my entire body as I cried and tried to breathe were the realization that I have no idea how to be intimate with a man.

I know about sex, sex spots, erogenous zones, positions, pressure points, hormones, and nerves. I know all about the physical connections, but I have never really made an emotional physical connection to a partner. The fact that emotion scares the hell out of most men doesn’t help the situation.

This past year I’ve been in Yin, and it’s really kicked me in my ass. I made so many realizations about myself last year that I thought (or hoped) I was done. Apparently, the Universe was saving this big whopper for right when I was least prepared to deal with yet another part of me that needs to be worked on.

Sex has never been about me, in my sexual experience. I never understood why people can just spend time kissing (isn’t that boring?) or holding hands (don’t you want me to hold something else?)… I never felt comfortable with just being with a partner. Once the sex got going, then I knew what my role was. Usually, I was the initiator, the aggressor, the one in charge. Men made it clear they were with me because they wanted to know if busty redheads were really as good in bed as they’d heard or seen in porn. They approached me with a certain expectation of what sex with me would be like, and I made sure I exceeded their expectations.

Sex in my marriage was never orgasmic for me, but then I didn’t think my pleasure was important. As a stay-at-home mother, I felt part of my duties was keeping him happy and earning my keep — sex did that while a blow job once a week prevented arguments about the bills. As I grew to detest him and the whole situation, I gained weight on purpose so he wouldn’t want me…. Just my luck — he liked fat chicks.

Now free, in control of my own life, and repairing my health and my body, I’m left with the remnants of what I’ve put myself through the past 15+ years. I look in the mirror as my body gets smaller, but so many imperfections remain. And so many imperfections dwell inside as well.

With intimacy, there isn’t exactly a projected outcome as there is with sex. The agenda of sex is lots of orgasms that lead to the climactic grande finale orgasm. Intimacy is a goal-less phenomenon, I guess, in which neither partner is in charge or at least, no one’s keeping tally on the orgasm scoreboard. Intimacy is being open emotionally to just being with a person, soft and tender… vulnerable. Without the sex techniques to keep a man enthralled, I really don’t know why a man would want to be with me… or what I have to offer…

This emotional breakdown was another wall coming down, and yet it is another bit of knowledge I will hold myself to when time for entering a relationship and finally — finally! — being able to love a man. I simply cannot allow myself to go backwards. Being in charge in the sex department is too easy. I need to allow myself to be open and vulnerable… more… yin… and that freaks me out….

Aroused and breaking through,

trish

Related Reading:

LINKS:

CONNECT:

 


DailyOJ 01-23-13, Part 1: Knees Up, Glass Toy Orgasms


Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Nude Woman Masturbating Solo Self-Love in ChairBack 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.

trish

Recommended Products:


DailyOJ 10-19-12 Part 2: Integration of Clitoral Orgasms & Disappointment


* 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!!

GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

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,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 10-19-12 Part 1: September & Crawling Out of Yin


I’ve been trying to figure out what is going on. And I’m not any closer to understanding what’s happened with my progress, except that what started out as a great upswing in August seems to have already begun the cycle downward.

September was, once again, a month of huge transition for me. On the good side, I gleefully entered Cougar-dom.  But personally, I was going through a lot that I can’t write about in a public manner like this (yet).  Last September, the end of my Karmic Year, heralded the end of an amazing year professionally, personally, and orgasmically, only to turn my bliss upside down with the death of my theatre mentor, my father had to have multiple operations, and my daughter was ill.  I’ve never noticed September to be such a gateway of abrupt change before.  Perhaps because change is already in the air each September with the arrival of Autumn, the end of (most) fears of bad hurricanes, my daughter’s new school year beginning, my birthday, and it is the month before Samhain (the Gaelic turn of the year and honoring of ancestors and those who have died).

With all the focus on my theatre writing career, getting ArousedWoman kicked into gear, my daughter starting high school, and other things that ground me in the mundane, I had felt the loss of that higher vibration that I’d been swimming in since September 2010.  That September, I had just moved out of my miserable marriage, was starting my new gig writing about theatre for a major online site, and began my journey on energy orgasmic awakening.  It was truly wonderful back then.  September 2010 to September 2011 was astounding and life-changing in so many ways.  September 2011 to September 2012 was wonderful, too, as well as trying and frustrating, but ultimately rewarding.

From an orgasmic point of view, my SASO’s (stealth and spontaneous orgasms) had not been so stealth or spontaneous.  The instant nipple-gasms were not so instant.  Granted, I no longer needed my O’s to be stealth — I’m home alone during the day again. But the nipple-gasms now took 30 seconds or so of stimulation to start the orgasm ball rolling — same with my not-so-spontaneous OM-clit orgasms.  Also, my body did not react the same to these orgasms.  My back arched but not as much or as suddenly as when these type of orgasms first began.  Nor were these orgasms fractal as they had been during the summer when I could literally have orgasms for hours just by barely touching my nipples or the upper left side of my clit, or even from the brush of air from the ceiling fan!  Compounding this, the after-O’s were not as strong nor lasted as long.  I was not having deskgasms, leg-gasms, heartgasms, urination-gasms, scalpgasms, or face-gasms.

It’s as if I somehow became unplugged from the multiverse’s orgasm channel.  I’d lost my ticket to the cosmic bliss train.

Is it the end of the world?  No.  Is it the end of my  world?  Quite possibly.  When everything else in my life is crazy and uncertain, having the bliss of my SASO’s was like a calm in the storm.

Now, I know the men reading this just want me to get back to talking about my vagina, or my clit, or anything other than what they probably consider “nagging.”  But as a woman, this mind fuzz is a big part of why women aren’t sexually satisfied.  We worry.  A lot.  The worry keeps us in the mundane when orgasms, particularly the energy-based orgasms, require the psyche and spirit to be free to lift up to a higher vibration, and by leaving the mundane physical behind, the body rises up to the higher vibration and, therefore, to true orgasm, rather than the person settling for climaxes that are limited to the manipulated reflexes of the mundane meat-suit.

In truth, I realized sometime during the summer that my over-allowance of Yin was affecting me adversely in my personal and even professional life.  I will write more on that at a later date, since I’m still crawling out of that experience.  But September 2012 was the lowest of the low points in regard to Yin taking over.  Life circumstances presented me with the choice of wallowing in a more self-destructive version of  Yin or begin the climb out and start fighting again.  At the time, I choose to climb and fight.  I lost the mundane battle, as I thought I would, but at least I fought, and that was a huge milestone for me in my journey toward balance.

Don’t get me wrong.  I had welcomed Yin — I was too extremely Yang in life, career, and sex.  I needed to learn to allow and to receive.  I appreciate the lessons learned from Yin.  However, somewhere between the allowing of Yin, the rising of sexual Chi through Tantra, the awakening of the Kundalini serpent, and the overall self-discovery of spontaneous cosmic bliss, my awareness pendulum had swung too far into the realm of Yin.  I was too much the observer and not the do-er, the receiver not the initiator.

This is crucial to understand because, for me, orgasms are no longer about sex, being sexual, or being physically, sexually satisfied, but rather, orgasm is about plugging into the super-consciousness, living in a higher vibration, and enjoying the lift-off to the Other Side.  Riding that wave is like leaving the body behind for a while and swimming in total awareness of the cosmos, surfing above the clouds in an energy that is almost indescribable.

All of these revelations were important to my growth.  They signify I have more work to do on my self.  This requires patience, acceptance, and time.  And that really sucks.

* Read Part 2 here. *

Aroused and climbing,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 09-04-12: Prostate Stealth O’s, Weird Energy, & Storms


I had felt a weird buzzy energy all day — all week, actually.  The hurricane had not really broken up once it hit land as it was supposed to.  Instead, Isaac is heading south, back toward the Gulf.  We really don’t need this thing to re-form as a hurricane.  But the energy in the air is absolutely electric.  And that part, I love.  I feed off storm energy — odd since storms are more associated with water, and I am a Fire spirit.  But lightning is Nature’s fire, so I am acutely aware of the electricity in the air.

I had just re-started my journey August 8th, gotten some great sessions in, and then Hurricane Isaac forced school closures for a week which tied in with the Labor Day holiday.  But, now I’m back to being alone and able to continue this journey… until the next unforeseeable interruption… Grrrr…

With the energy, I truly felt electric.  I couldn’t sit still.  I just wanted to walk outside, play in the rain, the deluge outside, revel in the energy I had been feeding on for a few weeks.  Yet, this constant rain makes me want to sleep.  I sleep so amazingly well when it’s raining outside; the steady rhythm calms me regardless of the thunder.  This Yin-Yang of energy pulling me toward either extreme at any moment felt like a sexual tension that needed to be rubbed.  So I decided to pursue that.

As I began, I had my delicious stealth and spontaneous orgasms (SASO’s).  I’ve needed to start with the nipple stim to “tone down” the sensitivity in my breasts, just so I can do some sensual massage with the KSMO and OM touch.  I did KSMO for about 4 minutes but my voice started to hurt, so I stopped.  I tried some light OM-touch, but that erupted in more SASO’s, so I stopped trying to do anything that was “practice” and just went for some prostate love instead.

My prostate was very receptive to touch, and my vagina was wet from the nipple and OM orgasms.  I did some absentminded massage/caresses on my inner thigh and up my torso, wherever my hand wanted to go — I wasn’t really thinking about it.  I noted the changes in my prostate as arousal deepened.

I also noticed how much I love the feeling of my breasts.  I don’t have anywhere near a “perfect” body, but I honestly love the feel of my body.  I especially love the feeling of my breasts, their shape and satiny smooth skin.  The underside of the breast has a super concentration of nerve endings, nerves that are connected directly to my clit.  The spinning ceiling fan blew drafts of air across my breasts, and the otherwise smooth areolas puckered up like they’d been dipped in ice water as my nipple tips grew dark pink and strained upward.  I noticed I didn’t feel a zing of energy to my clit.  I figured my prostate was overwhelming the nerve switchboard in my brain, so I just enjoyed the exquisite feel of the sensitive skin of my breasts and my puckered tips.

Feeling all lovey-dovey about my body, I figured I might as well do a hands-on blended set of O’s to get started before moving on to Sparkles for the main attraction.  And yet, several minutes in to it, I wasn’t increasing arousal in the clit area.  My prostate was getting very aroused and wet, but I felt almost nothing as I did circles with my clit.  This went on a few minutes more, and I exclaimed (in my head), “What the hell’s wrong with my clit?!!”

That about put me in an observationist panic.  Not only was I not allowing and receiving the arousal process, but for some reason, I had become attached to the outcome.  Non-attachment was on coffee-break while the Yang energy was rearing its competitive head.  I had worked so hard to become more Yin, to release the go-getter aspect of Yang energy.  And I wrote not too long ago that I was worried my sessions were going so swimmingly, they were becoming mechanical.  Well, obviously NOT!

I was more frustrated with myself for “blaming” my clit for not doing whatever I preconceived she was supposed to do than I was upset that my prostate was aroused and my clit wasn’t.  I let off my clit and moved my right hand to my breast.  I was not “going” for a prostate orgasm — those take forever.  In the old days, a G-spot/vaginal-only orgasm would take a minimum of an hour and sometimes up to 90 minutes to achieve.  Exhausting!  I didn’t have that kind of time, and frankly, I wasn’t looking for that much of a cardio endurance workout.

After just a few strokes inside on my prostate and a couple barely-there touches on my nipple tip, I had a SASO/prostate/She Spot orgasm that hit like a Kundalini orgasm with all the full-body waves of a 90 minute prostate pumping marathon.  It was shockingly powerful and utterly delicious!  My back arched uncontrollably, my legs came up as I would expect with a K-orgasm, but this was deeper and even more full — because of the prostate involvement.

I lay there afterward rather speechless and trying to process all the feelings in my body.  It was incredible.  I felt the after-O’s, my hips were still moving, my abs still contracting, my breathing took a while to return to normal.

Then I disappointed myself by reaching for Sparkles.  The disappointment was that I wasn’t going to use Sparkles in a beautiful moment to see what there was to feel.  I knew ahead of time, this was about my clit, and I had to make sure I wasn’t “broken.”  I stopped using vibration to induce orgasm almost two years ago due to numbness in my clit — that took over 6 months  to begin to feel sensation again.  I was terrified something was wrong — that the start, stop, start, stop of my practice was interfering with my progress so dramatically my clit had had enough and wanted no part of it. (NO!!!)

Long story short, Sparkles worked his magick on my prostate while I found a groove with my clit, and the ensuing orgasms were intense and induced the standard emotion.  However mechanical my process and the resulting orgasms and emotion had seemed to become, they are gold standards now, and anything other than amazing orgasmic highs now sends me into a panic that something’s wrong with me… clearly, I have cobwebs in my mental attic that need addressing. Could use a can of Mindfuzz-B-Gone… if it existed.  No, I’ll have to process this the old-fashioned way.  One orgasmic session at a time.

Aroused and regressing (Grrrrrr…),

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 08-24-12: Double-Dipping, Sporadic Awakening, & New Responses


Copyright 2012 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.

I didn’t feel the need for laying in bed an hour or longer, to relax or process out mind noise.  I think I was “lying” broken” for less than half an hour, doing my SASO nipple-gasms and OM clit-gasms, just to tone down the sensitivity in my nipples and clit — otherwise I’d just orgasm through my KSMO session… (apparent fail — I still O’d through my KSMO session).  I did about 14 minutes of KSMO, using a mix of nipple stim, sensual massage, and then clit/prostate stim.  Following that, I moved on to a solo session.

The trip to full-on, penetrative orgasms didn’t take long, about 8 minutes, and the results were predictably amazing.  And yet, the emotion that came with the orgasms was unpredictably extended.  Not the hard crying that can happen sometimes, my body eased into this emotional response, but once started, it was hard to shut off.  Of course, I’m not in the habit of shutting off my sexual responses (anymore), so I let it play out, trying to feel what my body was experiencing with the after-orgasms, but feeling true emotion welling up and needing to be released.

I lay there for about a half hour, dreading the getting up and continuing on with my day.  I wanted to feel something new.  Strange how even these amazing orgasmic experiences are beginning to feel mechanical and routine.  Having stimulated my prostate during the KSMO session, she was primed for the Sparkles treatment.  But now, laying in the after-glow, I could feel her throbbing, growing.  She wanted more.  I wasn’t sure if my shoulder and wrist would last for another round, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.

I lubed up Sparkles, and on the insertion, I could tell I was much tighter.  My prostate was definitely engorged, as were the vaginal walls that were pulsating inward, and I think the inner clit was still swollen as well.  The sensation of being truly filled was almost breathtaking.  Not to disparage Sparkles — I got him for his upward curve, not his girth.  (Dammit.)  But I loved the feeling of being full.  With a truly turned-on prostate, I felt those all-over ripples down my arms and legs, my legs began to shake — which usually only happens with hands-on prostate stimulation.  I reveled in the feeling of needing to urinate because I knew it had nothing to do with my bladder and everything to do with my She Spot/prostate.  I had been missing that feeling all summer.  To have that wave, that full-body shudder was joyously pleasing.

I didn’t think my arm would last at this point.  I thought I might have to stop, but I soldiered on, and I’m so glad I did.  When the orgasms started, they were full-body, fully arching, fully voiced, loud, rockin’-and-rollin’ orgasms.  I kept going as long as my arms would let me, then they flew up over my head, and Sparkles almost went flying across the room.

As the last few orgasms hit, I realized my teeth were chattering!  This was a completely new sexual response for me.  I don’t do fetishy stuff — never used an ice dildo or anything, so I’ve never experienced chattering teeth before… (great… in my head, I’m now hearing the song “John Wayne’s Teeth Hey-ya”…)

Being Irish, I love being cold.  In the winter, I keep my house around 60, and it feels awesome.  I wish I could afford to keep my house this cold in the summer!  In winter, my teeth will chatter occasionally, but for the most part, I feel like I’m in heaven in a cold house.  This is ironic since my skin always seems to be hot to the touch.  When I touch people, they move suddenly, saying my hands are burning hot.  I joke and say, “I’m Irish.  I’m exothermic.”  If they’re Pagan or Witchy, I say, “I’m a Fire Spirit, hence my nickname ‘Lava.'”  (If they’re fundy Christian, I tell them I’m a Witch.  Just to see their reaction as they run in the other direction. :P)  But I don’t feel hot — I really think it’s my body just letting off the heat so I can be cold.  Go Team Shamrock!

The teeth chattering while crying was a bit weird… and yet knowing I had had a second emotional orgasm was oddly satisfying — not sure why… But as the crying and teeth chattering faded, I began to feel the beginnings of a heartgasm — a buzzing in my ribcage area, the faint beginnings of that astral pull I have been wanting to experience again.  Unfortunately, a full heartgasm did not develop (rats!), but I was able to enjoy some lingering prostate body-shudders later when I went to the bathroom, and sporadically since.  Also, I recalled that when I had the 2-week-long heartgasm last Fall as well as the heartgasms in May, it was due to double-dipping — going two separate rounds of penetrative solo sex that concentrated on prostate stimulation.  That info is now filed for next time!

After awakening so grandly on 08-08-12 and 08-10-12, then having the back pain for a week, then the subsequent chakra cleansing, then my period, I’m already getting tired of the stops and starts on my journey.  I’m ready to hit cruise control for a bit.  But that’s just some Yang energy coming to the fore.  After being so Yin for several months, I was actually getting concerned I’d lost my inner fire.  I’m very appreciative of the Yang energy surfacing long enough to say “Hi” but not overwhelm my new Yinning state.

I briefly entertained the notion of recording my orgasms so I can hear them later — to get a sense of what’s happening vocally when my body is blissed out orgasmically.  And then I had the horrible thought of taking a month-long break from any orgasms at all.  Now I know I’m going crazy.

Speaking of going crazy, I think my shamanic dreams are coming back.  The past few nights, I’ve had some strange and intense dreams.  So I’ve decided to start a dream journal as well.  More on that later.  But for now, I’m about to hit the busy, busy last week of the month to meet all my writing deadlines (for my paying jobs), so I might take this week off from intentional orgasms.  Hmmmmmm….

Aroused and chattering,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not?


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’.)

Other indicators of real orgasm are legs shaking and toes/feet curling inward, energy zings down the legs, rapid breathing, and even female ejaculation.

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!

trish


DailyOJ 08-17-12, Part 2: Lying Broken in Pieces As I Heal


* Read Part 1 here! *

Glad to have movement and feeling in my back again after the excruciating pain that started a week ago, I was really looking forward to resuming my orgasmic awakening routine.  After all, my big, loud O’s had been on lock-down almost all summer while I gorged on stealth and spontaneous orgasms (now to be known as SASO).  Getting back on the path was a milestone for my 1-year multi-orgasmic anniversary.

The back pain had been a curious development.  Since losing almost 70 pounds from my highest weight, I know all about pain — back pain, hip/sciatica pain, lower back, neck, every joint imaginable pain, lower extremities/pedal edema, crazy hormones, all while being miserable inside as a person as well.

Similarly to my session on 08-08-12, I laid in bed for a while … a long while … as the majority of pain had melted away rather miraculously.  I don’t know why I had started this “tradition” of laying in bed, allowing my mind to wander, absentmindedly caressing myself.  In the summer, this was practically the extent of my sexual activities — with little privacy to pursue much fun, the SASO’s were exceedingly, surprisingly satisfying.  Now able to arch my back, the nipple O’s also made a glorious return.

The stealth clit orgasms were not instant as they usually were, but rather needed a few strokes on the upper left (my left) part of my clit to get going.  The right side of my clit is also very receptive to this touch, and I gratefully accepted the back-arching orgasms from that side as well.  Apparently, with the nipples unresponsive due to pinched nerves in my back, my clit had been less responsive to touch as well — not surprising since the the nipples are wired directly to the clit.

After an incredible length of time that didn’t feel like any time at all, I looked at the  clock.  I wasn’t even sure I had time to get the 20-minute session in much less the after-session fun.  More than an hour had passed.  I decided to begin, starting in my old-school style — with my nipples.  I had worried that starting back with regular practice had diminished my nipple/stealth orgasms in a phase of integration.  This can happen as you sojourn on any energy-based orgasm journey.  A big breakthrough explodes then fades — or integrates — as new experiences rise to the surface.  However, I think the issues this past week with the SASO’s were due to the back pain/heart chakra blockage.

I did the 20 minutes, moving to my clit and prostate for the last 10 minutes.  It all felt wonderful, and I was so glad to be able to move my hips again.  I was cutting it close to time, and with only an hour left of free time, I decided not to go for the full treatment but rather just lay in bed.  I took mental notes of all the energy zings all over my skin, the pulsating inside my vagina, the swelling of my prostate (!), the pulsating throbbing of my PC muscles, my anus, and the continuing circles and figure-8’s of my hips that I was not doing intentionally.

After a half hour of this, the “after-O’s” pulsed more slowly as they began to simmer to the background — notice I didn’t have a “big” O, and yet I still had the after-O’s!  Oddly fulfilled and thankfully not hurting, I got dressed, made up my bed, and walked (slowly) back to my desk.

It occurred to me later that lying in the bed before any stimulation or session caress or sounds had been an important aspect of my orgasmic awakening.  If you remember, I shared this article from another site on the concept of “lying broken.”  That being “broken” is one of those glass half-full situations.  You can see yourself as a shambles of what you were, or you can recognize that the pieces are now truly yours  to put back how you  want to be renewed.

This, then, was another eye-opener for me.  Though this experience happened on Friday, 08-17-12, and the Todd Akin “legitimate rape” debacle occurred over the weekend, remembering the “lying broken” article became a welcome glimpse of hindsight.  My heart chakra probably was triggered by my return to practice because it was my return to working on me.  For the past several months, I have been going through what I call the “Dark Side of Yin,” a chronic lethargy as old wounds churn at the core of me.  Not being alone during the summer, I had no real time or space to meditate or focus on myself in a self-healing capacity.  I also think some of the Kundalini awakening contributed to my turning inward so significantly — the coiled serpent that began her rise from slumber at my root chakra is making her way through my energy centers, and it appears my heart chakra was the wheel that needed to be cleansed this past week.

My work is not over for my heart chakra, but I do believe I have made great strides toward reassembling the pieces of my broken self into the newly forming me — as a whole woman.  And how fitting that this is occurring as I am about to turn 40.  I am still putting the bad experiences behind me, but more than ever I know that the pieces are mine to assemble as I see fit.  If I don’t like what I see forming, I will go back to lying broken until I once again have a clear vision of my self as a whole human being.  And unlike my afternoon schedule, I can take my time.  That’s why I’m here on this plane anyway.

Aroused and broken but healing,

trish

LINKS:

CONNECT:

link-fblink-twlink-pinlink-tum

 

 

 


DailyOJ 08-17-12, Part 1: Twitter War Triggers Blocked Chakra Energy


I’m writing this a few days after the fact for a couple of reasons:

1 – The events of this day were very powerful to me on an orgasmic and a human level.  I needed time to process them.

2 – The GOP had to go all stupid (again), and the entire weekend was dealing with the idiocy of rape culture.

So back at the drawing board here… my headspace has been so filled with the memory of my rape and reading readers comments, telling me about their rapes, that Friday seems blurry… like it  was 18 years ago and the rape was last week… or yesterday…

But the events of Friday were important so I will detail them, though perhaps not as elegantly as usual.

Friday morning began with getting my daughter on the school bus, after which I caught the local bus to the grocery store.  While shopping in the produce section, a small Twitter war began in which I was being ridiculed for being from Mississippi — as usual, and also as usual, made to be at fault for all of Mississippi’s past ill history.  Of course, I stood up for my state — my point being that Mississippi has a flawed past as do most states in this country.  (What?  New York was a slave state?!  Yes.  Quelle surprise! )  The New England states just like to think they’re perfect.  They’re not.

The perception of Mississippi will never change because the media and American culture like having someone at whom to point the accusatory finger, to blame for all the bad things in the U.S., which conveniently keeps them from looking in the mirror and fixing their own  problems.  The news never reports the good things that happen here — just the bad… unless that bad thing is Hurricane Katrina — that the media reported hit New Orleans — it didn’t.  The northeastern eyewall went over my house in Gulfport, MS, while we were inside, and I’ve got the coordinates to prove it!

As you can see, a lifetime of Post Traumatic Stress came up with that one stupid Twitter altercation, that ironically was with friends, but I was the butt of all the jokes and the lone voice for what is good and nice about Mississippi.  This hurt greatly that the ridicule came from friends because the incident triggered deeper hurts that I have held on to since childhood.

Being from Mississippi, I am not good enough.  For anything.

In dealing with the Broadway world for my day job and my radio show, I always dreaded being offered press seats that I would have to turn down because I don’t live in New York.  Invariably, they would ask me where I live (because how can a person cover Broadway and not  be in New York?!  (From working very, very, VERY  hard!).  I dreaded giving the answer, but always said with a smile on my face and a lilt in my voice: “On the beautiful Mississippi Gulf Coast.”

Silence.  Shock on the other end…  “Well, you don’t sound like you’re from  Mississippi!”…  “Oh, really?  And how do Mississippians sound?”  (Like TV and Hollywood stereotypes!)…  “Well, um…”…  Then I feel obligated to explain my mother was a literature professor and my father was a physics teacher turned physicist for the government, to somehow prove Mississippians aren’t stupid.  In fact, when I bought my new smartphone last year, I got a Manhattan number so at least when I ring the press agents, it just saves time not having to explain my area code… except that after three years, they know me now.

Having to defend myself just as an intelligent, well-read, educated, erudite ActivistArtist(TM) on a daily basis just gets old.  It’s exhausting.  And I realized it’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid.  Trying to prove my worth as a human being regardless of one thing or another — the color of my skin, my freckles, my religious choices as a Pagan/Witch, being bisexual, having a child out of wedlock in a Red State, dealing with being molested as a kid, thinking I was doomed to Hell thanks to Catholic brainwashing, dealing with being raped as an adult and not reporting it for fear of public ridicule, losing my identity as a person and an artist thanks to my asshole marriage, regrouping with my musical work that was stalled because of the destruction of Hurricane Katrina, dealing with the bad economy, the BP Oil Spill, then becoming a single mom in an affluent artists’ hamlet.  I’m just tired.

So Friday, after a week of horrendous back pain which began after I started back with KSMO, I got home, sat down at my desk, and had a really good, gut-wrenching cry.  Not a pretty, dabbing-the-eyes cry.  No, this was full-out, cathartic wailing.

The crying brought me to my source of the pain — the fear that I am not good enough to be loved by anyone.  That if someone did love me, I have no idea why he would.  The irony is that I know I’m kinda fabulous in many ways.  I’ve got the bustline and the music fellowship grants to prove it.  But deep down… deeeeeeeeeeep down, I still have issues…. being told I was ugly as a kid, being told I was fat, that I should kill myself, that I’m going to Hell — for numerous reasons, then actually being fat as an adult, losing my sense of self and place in this world, hearing my asshole ex-husband’s ridicule of my singing voice and my original music plus his hurtful words regarding my body if I got breast reduction surgery, complaining that I got too wet during sex, that I shouldn’t do anything during sex because he would get insecure.

At times, it just feels like I’ve spent 39 years of doing nothing right.

Within an hour of this little emotional breakdown, I noticed my back was loosening up.  The pain, I then realized, was in a place in my back that I don’t normally get back pain.  Usually, the knots are along my bra straps horizontally across my ribs and vertically in both shoulder blade areas.  This pain was in the center, at the spine, directly behind my heart.  I jokingly thought that maybe the crying had knocked something loose.  Then I thought about that again.  The excruciating pain I had had for a week was literally almost gone.  The pain that was left was not the pain of clenched muscles contracting nerves (anymore), it was more like sore muscles, exhausted from clenching and spasming for the past week.  I could move through those vertebrae again — and I had not been able to do that all week!  The immobility through my back had prevented most kinds of orgasm — the stealth, Kundalini O’s make my back arch so there was no way to do that as I was accustomed… the few times I had stealth O’d, I literally tucked my pelvis so my back wouldn’t try to arch — not nearly as much fun.  The nipple orgasms were completely nonexistent because the nipple’s nerves stem straight off the spinal cord in that exact area of my pain — the area of my physical heart and my esoteric/Tantric heart chakra.

Looking at the time, I figured I’d better get on with my session for the day.  With the weekend coming up and the prospect of my period starting Monday-ish, I knew vaginal O’s would be another week away if I didn’t get this sh’O on the road…  Now that my back could arch, I wanted orgasms!!!!

* Read Part 2 here! *

Aroused and unblocking,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


MyTweets & Comments 08-17-12: Body Image, Stretch Marks, & Self-Hate


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!!!

trish

(Click image to enlarge.)


MyTweets & Comments 08-16-12: Hippy, Free Love & Stretch Marks


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.

trish

(Click image to enlarge.)


MyTweets & Comments 08-15-12: Capitalism, Middle Class, & Obama Communism


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”!

trish

(Click on image to enlarge.)


DailyOJ 08-09-12: The Return of the Tingles


In similar fashion to the return of my afternoon delights yesterday, I had yet another KSMO session and a date with Sparkles, my purple silicone boyfriend. This was concurrent to yesterday’s session, which Jack does not recommend for newbies.  However, I attained Adept status a couple months ago (apparently), so I kinda get to do what I want.  (Neener-neener.)

I had already decided I was going to do back-to-back days about a month ago — the longing to be free again had been so poignant and clear.  (“Man, I just need to be fucked already — and SOON!”)  I had been feeling the almost overwhelming need — craving — to experience that wild, bed-frolicking, hip-rollicking abandon of insatiable passion and out-of-body orgasms that I had glimpsed in the Fall and Spring.  I knew I couldn’t gain it all back overnight, but I figured a few back-to-back sessions wouldn’t do any harm, especially since the weekend is right here, and I’d be back on the wagon.  (Sigh.)

Essentially, today’s session was much like yesterday’s.  I laid in bed an hour in some stupidly ridiculous bliss of just being okay laying in bed being stupidly ridiculously blissful.  My mind wandered.  That was okay.  I stealth O’d.  That was fabulous.  When I was ready for KSMO, I did KSMO.  I felt some tingles which were a good sign, but I didn’t try to make anything happen.  I finished the session, fucked Sparkles, cried, lather, rinse, repeat.

Okay….  Here’s where it got interesting.  In the time afterward, I was paying attention to my body — what I was feeling, where, and how; what I felt emotionally, mentally, intellectually about what I was feeling physically, energetically, spiritually.

I noticed the crying afterward had been delayed by a couple minutes.  This felt strange not to be immediately emotional.  The orgasms felt good.  What was the problem?  I remembered this happened yesterday, too, and I felt the same conflicted response to the quasi-ambivalent emotion.  The crying happened, and when it did, the feelings I felt were not just caused by the stimulation of my A-spot to induce the emotional uterine orgasm (that sounds so mechanical).  What I felt were feelings of emotion that were tied to insecurities and uncertainties about finding a partner:  why would any man want to be with me, why would a man love me, what did I have to offer?  I had no answers, so I cried some more.  I was too involved in the unexpected pity party to pay attention to whatever might have been happening physiologically in my genitals.  I can only assume my body went through its usual after-O’s.  But I don’t know for sure.

As the emotion slowed to a trickle, I noticed energy on my left side, up my leg and into my torso.  I then felt energy collect in the ball of my left foot and shoot out from there.  I have felt this before, and the image that comes to mind is the end of the animated film, The Beauty and the Beast.  During his change from “The Beast” back to a “Man,” a ray of “light” bursts out of his feet and hands.  That is what it feels like — a sudden gathering of energy that shoots out in a ray of light energy explosion… (except my feet aren’t hairy like the Beast’s.  Just sayin’.)

Another unexpected sensation occurred while I was laying there feeling my feelings — the emotional ones as well as the physical sensations.  My eyes were closed, but my attention was drawn to my hands.  If my hands aren’t over my head, they are usually resting on my torso at my bottom rib/waistline area.  I lay like this so my upper arms can support the weight of my breasts.  I thought my hands were in the air, but I didn’t remember telling them to move.  I opened my eyes and looked down.  My arms were still by my sides, my hands still on my waist.  But it felt like my hands were in mid-air, but heavy, like they were trying to pull away from me, or pull me up.  I have felt similar “pulling” sensations when I experienced heartgasms — it felt like my inner me was trying desperately to separate from my body when I was wide awake — this happened for almost two weeks!

The rest of the day, I felt the odd tingle here and there, nothing major nor localized for too long in any one spot.  (Wow, just got a zap of energy through my right outer labia just remembering that.  Cool.)  I didn’t have any single tingle strong enough or long enough for it to register as a particular -gasm, i.e., scalpgasm, leg-gasm, deskgasm, etc.  I could feel the beginnings of the beginnings of awakening, the stirrings before the actual stirrings begin.  So I know the bamboo has been growing under the surface and will burst through soon.  Time is the only water it needs….  Dammit.

Aroused and tingling,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


OpEd: My Rape, Rape Culture, & Why Women Need to Talk About Rape


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.

trish


Clit Stimulation: What’s In It for Men?


Since discovering OM (Orgasmic Meditation), one of my biggest questions has been “Why would a man want to do OM?”  If the OM touch is all about the guy stroking my clit for 15 minutes, what does he  get out of it?  Why would he  want to focus is on my clit while his clothes are still on?

The OM team has finally addressed this — seems they  get this question a lot.  A group of men talks about their  experiences as OM-ers — men who actually enjoy  focusing on a woman’s clit for 15 minutes.  They talk on a range of topics from the male perspective of sex, the male ego, overcoming male uncertainty of women’s bodies, and dropping cultural bullshit men adopt just to be perceived as masculine in our society.

They talk about:

  • Dropping the competitive nature of their relationship with a woman.
  • Sex becoming goal-less.
  • Enjoying the moment, not planning the sexual experience — map-less.
  • Getting their pride out of the way.
  • Gaining a better connection to their partner.
  • Being more confident in sex and the relationship.
  • Sex lasting for hours.

Please watch this video, then click the button on the right to check out the OM website.

Happy OM-ing!

trish


DailyOJ 08-08-12, Part 2: Back on the Path


* 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,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 05-26-12, Part 2: Cycles, Dreams, & Cosmic Bliss


* 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,

trish

LINKS:

CONNECT:


DailyOJ 12-20-11: Temperance & Stoking the Fires of Arousal


December 20, 2011

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:

“TEMPERANCE… What is traditionally known as the Temperance card is a reference to the Soul. Classically female, she is mixing up a blend of subtle energies for the evolution of the personality. One key to interpreting this card can be found in its title, a play on the process of tempering metals in a forge. Metals must undergo extremes of temperature, folding and pounding, but the end product is infinitely superior to impure ore mined from the earth. In this image, the soul volunteers the ego for a cleansing and healing experience which may turn the personality inside-out, but which brings out the gold hidden within the heart.”

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,
trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,734 other followers