My hair has been a distinguishing feature of mine since I was a child. Hair stylists naturally gravitate to my tresses and touch my hair without asking. But these guys are almost always gay, and they’re more interested in my hair than me, so I never really minded them.
However, on too many occasions to recount, I have been standing or sitting, minding my own business, only to feel something strange happening to the back of my head and realize some stranger was groping and fondling my hair. From a guy at the mall when I was 12 — who wound my hair around and around his arm and said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, to which I replied, “Oh, yes, you could have!” — to a creepo, sleazy, fat guy with one tooth at the circus who operated one of the rides, men are drawn to my hair. An artist wanted to paint me nude because of my skin tone and my hair. Because of these experiences over the years, my hair is definitely one of my sensitive spots. These creepy follicular invaders somehow had the nerve to get offended that I was offended that they were touching and stroking my hair. They would guffaw and sneer, “What do you care? It’s just hair. It’s dead.”
Newsflash: As long as my hair is attached to my head, my hair is a part of my body and is off-limits to anyone unless I personally give permission for a person to touch my hair. Period.
People are taught that hair is dead. Sacred teachings say it is not. In the ancient culture of the tribes of Ireland, Scotland, Gaul, and other European pagan traditions, hair was very sacred. Most people never cut their hair; they let it grow their entire lives, for to cut your hair (nonchalantly) was to cut off your power. In some instances just before major battles, some warriors might cut their hair as a sign of sacrifice to the gods, for blessing in battle. They may also cut their hair while mourning.
The head was sacred to the indigenous tribes of pagan Europa. The head is where we think, see, hear, smell, taste, talk, sing, kiss — all of which are extremely important to every person. In fact, the head was so revered that warriors would take the heads of their enemies to prevent their power from transferring with the deceased to the Other Side. If you’ve ever seen a depiction of the great mother goddess Kali from the Sanatana Dharma teachings, you know the head is a prized possession in several cultures.
Samson, from the Judeo-Christian bible, owed his considerable strength to his hair. Some American Indian tribes have traditions that involve cutting their hair when a loved one has died. Keeping the hair long is part of many yogic traditions that go back thousands of years. The hair is thought to be like “antennae” to the surrounding environment, able to pick up on energetic vibrations, useful, informative sensations that are then transmitted to the brain. Even beards were required of scholars in academia and holy men in some religions.
So hair has always been a very conscious matter to me…. The Broadway musical included.
Note: I’ve never had a lucid dream, and the one dream in which I actively controlled what happened was a real doozy. Oftentimes my dreams are like films, and at an important moment, I’ll get an extreme close-up, zoom-in shot to hone in on what is important.
I had already had my dreams for the night, gotten up to go to the bathroom, and gone back to bed, only to lay in bed for over an hour unable to fall asleep. Sometime after that, I dozed off and had this dream.
I was looking into a mirror that was in my bedroom closet, brushing my hair with my hands. Suddenly a clump of hair came out into my hand. I was understandably upset. My hair is one of my signature features. More hair fell out. I went to my bathroom to look in the bigger mirror, and my hair around my ears and the back of my head was gone. Suddenly, a zoom-in, close-up showed my scalp, and the hair was cut close to the skin, but it was obvious that it had been cut, i.e., with clippers.
I was instantaneously back in my bedroom looking into the mirror in my closet, and I was completely bald. But I wasn’t upset. In fact, I ran my hand over my bald scalp and smiled.
When I woke up, I was confused and slightly worried. Losing hair so drastically is usually a sign of severe illness such as Diabetes or thyroid dysfunction, or worse, the effects of cancer treatment such as chemo and radiation. I have dealt with my hair thinning out due to my thyroid dysfunction, but I’ve been able to regrow my hair now that I have my thyroid and insulin response under control thanks to a superb product. And I would never do chemo or radiation if I had cancer, so I knew that this was not a precognitive dream, showing me a scene from my future (as I sometimes dream).
Having been immersed in the ballet world growing up, I know a ballerina in rebellion will cut her hair. Remember when Rosie O’Donnell got her famous haircut and the media crucified her? I’m not G.I. Jane or Sinead O’Connor. I wouldn’t look good bald. So I consulted the wonderful world of Google for some dream meanings to make sense of this dream that threatened to rock my body and cranial image.
Losing one’s hair in a dream spells gloom and doom according to some interpretations (particularly the religious interpretations). But my dreams are never as concrete as many of the standard interpretations anyway, and I quickly found several interpretations that resonated with me and my current situation.
Losing power was associated with losing hair throughout the various interpretations, but they also noted that the hair that has fallen out (or been cut off) represents something you no longer need. So losing a clump of hair could be a sign of getting rid of something that no longer serves you or an end to a stressful time of your life. They also mentioned that losing hair to the point of baldness could signify a whole new chapter in your life because when you get rid of all that doesn’t serve you, you are left with a blank canvas — a bald head, in this case — to start over. They note that being bald was seen as a sign of wisdom in some ancient cultures, as priests and sages would shave their heads to show they were on a path of knowledge and wisdom. The best explanation said, “You are at a stage in your life where you are confident in fully exposing yourself.” Hmmmmmmm…..
One important thing was whether the hair was falling out on its own or was cut off. My zoom-in, close-up, Mr. DeMille shot clearly showed that my hair had been shorn off with clippers. In effect, I was purposely getting rid of things that no longer served me. I was purposely on a path to greater knowledge and, hopefully, greater wisdom.
I can only go by what I felt when I woke up. And with this dream, though I was a little shaken at seeing myself bald, I did not have any bad feelings upon thinking about the dream. This was one reason I didn’t freak out … like I did after the time I dreamt of all my teeth falling out. Yikes!
This dream is accurate in my opinion. Since I’m still processing my Congressional run and getting my personal life and my self back on track for what I should be doing with my life, I can see how this is a good dream to have. My existence will be uncomfortable as I move forward and let go of the things (and people) that do not enrich my life or my work, but the path (to knowledge and wisdom) is most definitely a path I want to take.
Tonight’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.
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Today is June 21, 2014, and it marks 18 years since I self-initiated as a witch. The ritual took place in my backyard with a number of fellow witch-friends in attendance, along with too many mosquitoes and June Bugs to count.
I had been on this road to witchdom for a couple of years, having searched for a spiritual tradition that was in keeping with my ancient Gaelic ancestors. I was even in a coven for a while, but their tradition was American eclectic and had way too much Wicca and ceremonial hogwash for my tastes. Unofficially, I had been on this path my whole life; it had only been a couple years prior to my self-initiation that I had begun to take on the mantle of witch and pagan.
As I related in my Samhain post, being a witch in reality is nothing like what TV and movies pretend it is. “Witch” is usually used as an insult, particularly against women. This past Samhain, I bought a sign that says, “You say I’m a Witch … like it’s a bad thing.” And for me, the word “witch” is utterly fabulous.
The word witch is thought to derive from a Germanic root word that alternately can mean “to be strong” and/or “to know” or “to be wise”. The term witch was used to refer to the local wise woman, the woman who knew the healing arts, midwivery, burial preparations, and often, relationship advice. Witches were the keepers of arcane knowledge from birth to death, and that scared the men in charge of Europe’s misogynistic religion and governments. Insecure men have always feared women’s ability to create life, and that fear was never greater than in the centuries of patriarchal rule before modern science could explain some of the mysteries of human biology.
I have often said that someday I hope to be able to call myself, fully, a witch — to truly be a wise woman. I’ve found that it takes much more than just calling yourself a witch to actually be a true witch. I’m not talking about covens and initiations either. You’re a person who strives to live in a wise way, a beauty way, the “Red Road”, according to the laws of Nature and Karma, or you don’t.
Many arguments can be made over who is a real witch and who isn’t. That’s another reason I left a coven and ventured out on my own. I just wanted to do what felt right to me and was in keeping with my Irish and Scottish heritage. Along the way, I’ve studied many religions, and I’m particularly smitten with the teachings of Indian religions as they pertain to enlightenment, reincarnation, and expansion of universal consciousness. While I will call myself an Energist, for reasons I’ll explain in another post, there is no actual name for what I do — it’s just Trish Witchyness.
Recently, an instructor from Pittsburgh University interviewed me for some doctoral work he is doing. He wanted to know about my spiritual path and how I do my “thang” as a solitary witch. We talked for several hours over the course of a few days, and it was a great conversation that brought back many memories along my journey.
I recounted a tale from when I was a child, about seven years old, when my mother wanted me to stop making mud pies in the backyard to get ready for church. I asked why we had to go to church. She said it was to worship god in his house. I asked her why we had to go to church to worship god because a church was made by men while the earth and water I was concocting into mud pies was actually made by god. Furious that I was questioning her religious bullshit, she growled for me to get inside and get cleaned up, and away to man’s building we went.
When I was nine, I was forced to become Catholic. I knew instinctively the church was evil. Maybe it was a past-life memory of being burned at the stake or something … or being an observant child, I could see through the hypocrisy and the double standards of the Catholic church when my mother, the recreational martyr, fell for all of it hook, line, and sinker. One day when I was 10, I asked one of the priests, “Which is worse: always to believe and never to question, or always to question and never to believe?” He sputtered, clearly unable to answer me, then a moment later began spewing some dogmatic drivel that I could tell even he knew was inadequate.
I hated the Catholic church, I hated my mother, I hated Catholic school, I despised it all. When I was 17, I graduated from Catholic school, and I vowed never to return to the church. I almost did not attend my best friend’s wedding because it was a wedding mass. So was my sister’s.
At age 17, my life changed when I met an American Indian ballet dancer at a major competition. His poetry about his spirit animal connected directly to the heart of me. But I’m not Indian. He suggested I begin searching for answers with my heritage, and so my journey into the incredible world of the Gaelic people and spirituality began. I knew I was home as I learned more and more about pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland. Even with the invasion of Christianity on the Gaelic peoples, many of the traditional stories and customs had survived. Considering how much of the pagan culture was absorbed and outright stolen by the Christian church, finding the links back to pre-Christian European spirituality is doable and documentable.
When I was 21, I volunteered with a ballet company in New Orleans. One day, I decided to go inside a huge cathedral — St. Patrick’s, I think it was. I went to one of the last pews and knelt. And waited. And waited. And waited. I looked around. Nothing. I bowed my head. Nothing. I looked at the shiny brass and gold trinkets, and the porcelain statues, and the stained glass, and the wooden reproduction of Jesus on the cross. And felt nothing. I began crying. Because I felt nothing. I left. Still crying. I wanted to belong somewhere, and this was never going to be it.
I didn’t have a name for what I was or what I believed at that time. About a year later, a theatre friend asked if I’d heard of Wicca. I hadn’t, but when I looked into it at the library and bookstore (this was pre-internet), I resonated with some of what I read, but not all of it. Some of Wicca seemed as regimented and hierarchical as the dogmatic church I despised. Turns out that Wicca was founded by two former Anglicans. And as another friend used to joke, “Episcopal is just Catholic with an ‘E’.”
It was that journey (and the dawn of the internet) that allowed me to find other soul-path querents who go by many names: Wicca, Witches, Pagans, Neo-Pagans, Druids, Eclectic, Ceremonial Witches, Asatru, etc. Too many to list. The coven didn’t work out, but it allowed me to see what I didn’t want on my path. I left in the Spring, and it was that Summer Solstice that I held my self-initiation in my backyard on June 21, 1996.
Walking the witchy path has not been easy, especially considering I live in Mississippi. Being “out of the broom closet” has been a challenge from Day 1. I have endured personal taunts and threats, rude comments left on my vehicle (thanks to my “Born Again Pagan” bumper sticker) whenever I went to the store, work, the post office, the gas station. I even lost a job because I wasn’t Christian. But like any other closet a person chooses to come out of, being free trumps being a slave to the ignorance of others, especially here in the Bible Belt.
I composed a musical, Witchcraze, to correlate the terrorizing good ol’ boys of the Bush regime with the torturous witch trial masterminds of 1692 Salem. Having studied in depth the arrest warrants, the trial transcripts, and the re-trial transcripts, I can say for a fact that nothing I have endured comes close to what was done to the women of previous centuries, when “witch” was a label that carried heinous torture and a death sentence.
So, I’m a witch. And I’m a pagan. And an Energist. And a tarot card reader. And a Libra. And a Tatrika and yogini. And a composer, and a nerd, and a bookworm, and a Democrat, and a Streisand devotee, and a single-mom, and a wannabe chef and cafe-owner, and a kettlebell enthusiast, and I’m right-handed. Pick any of those labels, and someone is going to have a problem with me because of how they perceive that word and what they think it stands for.
I am a writer: a lover of words and sounds and syllables. I know what “witch” means, and to me, witch is a beautiful word. Witch is a sacred word. Witch is a word women (and men) have died for, and it is a word I choose for my goal in this lifetime: to be a wise woman, to be a strong woman, to live a life of expansion and understanding. Most of all, hearing or seeing the word witch makes me feel something. I feel a connection to all the women (and men) who defied oligarchical, elitist oppression to live and die free as freethinkers and religious and political dissenters. And that makes my activist heart proud.
Aroused and witchy,
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Carolyn was trained by Yogi Bhajan and accesses Hindu archetypes, Sanskrit mantras, Aghoric references, astral and etheric travelling, soul journeying, meditation, posture, breath manipulation and encourages conscious connections to our individual strengths and un-accessed, unacknowledged powers and abilities.
Some of the topics we will cover include the following:
- Kundalini yoga and its history
- Shakti, life force energy
- Yogi Bhajan, who brought Kundalini to the West
- Kundalini syndrome
- The difference between Kundalini and Tantra
- Carolyn’s teaching method that she shares with students around the world
Tune in today at 3 p.m. ET/2 p.m. CT (and for those in the UK, that’s 8 p.m. your time). Listen online as Trish Causey Discusses Kundalini Awakening with Carolyn Cowan. International listeners can call in via Skype. Listeners in the US can call in with questions or comments at (347) 884-8792. All listeners can post in the show’s online chat room, just click the link above here.
As the host of Musical Theatre Talk, I did a LOT of shows on the voice. The one show I never got to do — because I had listeners of all ages, was a show on how the voice is affected by sex, the sounds we make and even the sounds we don’t.
On the show, “Sex & the Voice,” Master voice teacher and voice researcher Jeannette LoVetri will elucidate on the anatomy of the voice as well as what happens to the voice when making certain sounds during sex. We will also cover what can happen to the voice when we try to stifle sounds so as not to be heard by neighbors or others in our home (or elsewhere) during trysts.
We will discuss how the effects of sexual trauma can inhibit sound production during consensual sex.
Some of the topics we talked about included the following:
- Basic anatomy of larynx.
- Sound production during sex — from glottal stops to moaning to yelling in ecstasy. What is healthy for the voice? What could damage the voice?
- What happens when we purposely do NOT use the voice during pleasure? Is there any damage from stifling sound?
- The damage to the voice/throat area due to certain sex fetishes such as choking partner during orgasm.
- Using sound to raise sexual energy, such as in Tantra and Kundalini.
- How sexual trauma inhibits sound during sex/making love.
The Human Energy Field: An Interview with Valerie V. Hunt, Ph.D. via The Human Energy Field: An Interview with Valerie V. Hunt, Ph.D.
When the pattern of the electromagnetism is disturbed in the body, you will get disease and malfunction. And this electromagnetic pattern can be disturbed in a number of ways: genetically, due to the nature of the tissue, although I don’t think that’s a major factor; experientially, due to lifestyle patterns; or emotionally, which I think is the primary factor. What happens is there is a disturbance that occurs in the electromagnetism of the tissue, which will eventually alter the chemistry. And actually this goes clear to the DNA. I predict we will learn before long that the DNA is reprogrammed by the emotional organization of the energy field. I am not saying this simply. I have had experiences here.
What you are saying, then, is that the primary cause of all disease occurs first and foremost in the field. Correct?
Absolutely. Many people are coming to that conclusion theoretically. I’m coming to it through my research.
Conversely, then, for healing to truly occur, it has to occur in the field, as well.
All healing that takes place in alternative medicine is electromagnetic. Whether it’s the laying on of hands, Tai Chi, meditation — everything that takes place, even the thought process, or the person’s intent or spiritual state, changes the electromagnetic field and changes it almost instantaneously. Now if it stays changed and improved, the body heals itself, and the chemistry reorganizes. This biochemical reorganization is the effect that medicine is working upon. Medicine has never, ever cured anything. The body cures itself. Sometimes, in emergency situations, we need the offset of biochemistry, but not as a cure of disease. It never has cured disease, and it never will cure disease. Only if the field changes will there be a true cure.
© 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
If you know me, you know I cover New York’s Broadway theatre for a living, doing write-ups for shows, reviewing shows and cast albums, and hosting my own radio show, Musical Theatre Talk, on which I chat with Tony Award winners, Bway designers, and composers — I’ve even covered the Tonys! I do all this from Mississippi…. Yes, Mississippi…. How?…. I’m damn good at what I do…. (And I occasionally fly to New York.)
But there are other things you may not know about me….
In 1994, I discovered a quirky independent Australian film entitled Strictly Ballroom. Almost 20 years later, Strictly Ballroom remains in my list of Top 10 Best Films of all time.
The basic tenet of the film is a quote, supposedly of Spanish Romani origin, that goes, “A life lived in fear is a life half-lived.” I have taken this quote and sentiment as the “theme” for 2013 as well as for my updated website, and my continued activism on my “secret” blog that I sort of kept from my “respectable friends” because it deals with subject matters too indelicate for polite company.
For the past year, since starting my “secret” blog, I have lived in fear of what others would think — that they would shun me, rumors would start, and I would be all alone in the big, scary world.
What the FUCK was I thinking?!
Of course, I’ll be shunned. Of course, people will talk. THIS has been the one constant in my life — being the black sheep of the family, having family and so-called friends disown me for being truthful to myself and living that truth in the open, standing up for what I believe in, speaking out for other people’s rights as well as my own. Why the hell would I be surprised for people to abandon me now?!
The fear began at age 9 when I was molested by a neighbor, a teenage girl down the street. She knew how to get me to keep silent — she threatened to tell my mother. My mother was an evil bitch, a Catholic zealot, dependent victim, and recreational martyr. I wasn’t sure what was being done to me, but somehow, my mother was bound to twist it to being my fault. That threat — that fear of being shunned by those who were supposed to love me — had lived with me for years, well into adulthood.
At 21, I was raped. (No, Republicans, it was not your definition of “legitimate rape.” It was just date-rape, just me being violated in my home by someone I knew well, which I know doesn’t really count to you as “rape-rape” even though 80% of reported rapes are committed by someone the victim knows, not the stereotypical boogey-man.) Again, I lived in fear of others finding out, of being shunned and ridiculed by those who were supposed to love me, so I didn’t tell anyone — not one person, not even the police.
Since I was 13, I’ve spoken out on many things in regards to human rights and civil rights — sometimes in regard to how it applied to me as a woman, a bisexual, a heathen pagan. Mostly, however, I’ve fought for human rights on the macrocosmic scale — I’ve fought for the principal of the basic right of <__insert human rights issue here__>.
This time last year, something happened within me, and I could no longer keep all of this inside. I created my “secret” website and blog that I absolutely love writing. Yet, I lived in fear that if my family found out, I would lose the last of my family who still talk to me… and worse yet, my activism for women’s rights, women’s body autonomy, women’s sexual health, and my own personal journey in healing from sexual abuse would be used against me by my soon-to-be ex-husband to take my child away from me…. I repeat… I’m in Mississippi… not New York….
A few days ago, while looking ahead to running for public office and knowing my “secret” blog would become public knowledge, I began to update my personal website. For some reason, the quote from Strictly Ballroom resounded in my head: “A life lived in fear is a life half-lived.”
As happy as I am in my life as a single mom, a writer, an activist, a dreamer, I still lived in fear — which meant my life was not really my own. My fear still controlled me.
I knew then that I will no longer live in fear of losing people from my life. People who shun me for being an open, honest, and unapologetic loudmouth activist are missing out on one hell of a person in their lives. Their shunning says more about them than me. In fact, today on Twitter, I saw this quote in someone’s bio: “If you judge me, you don’t define me. You define yourself.”
So, here goes…. I’m coming out of the blogger and activist closet to let everyone know about my site and blog, ArousedWoman.com. (Begin shunning now….)
“Arouse” means “to stir to action, to awaken.” To me, this perfectly summed up my activism and the awakening I was experiencing on so many levels. A year of secret blogging later, I am proud to say I have a small following of readers — okay, they’re a fabulous fan-base whom I love dearly.
Here’s some more shun-worthy information:
I have never orgasmed during sex… but then 70% of women have never orgasmed during penetrative sex. I thought the problem was me. Turns out, not all of it was my fault. Some of it was the guys’ fault (okay, a lot of it has been the fault of the men in my life). A lot of it was the fault of the sexual abuse I suffered as a child and as an adult, and much to my surprise, a great deal of my issues with sex have come from the sexual harassment I’ve suffered since I suddenly developed breasts one night when I was 10. Therefore, I have written about my abuse as a kid as well as my date rape experience. I’ve written about my lifelong hatred of my breasts, as well as my fear of intimacy. I even wrote about my own Steubenville-esque experience that I was still carrying shame over.
I’m glad to say I am a multi-orgasmic woman — enjoying spontaneous O’s even! I have documented this journey in my DailyOJ posts. I am happier than I’ve ever been in that department… so much so that I now help others — men and women — with their sexual journey and sexual healing by answering their questions in my AskTrish posts and on Twitter. I love reading the comments by my readers on my blog and Twitter — they seem to like my OpEd pieces especially:
- OpEd: How I Like My Sex… Bare…
- OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not? (’cause really, most men are kinda clueless)
- OpEd: Fucking Cherokee Men (and Other People of Color)
I also review products including sex toys, books, lube, and music.
Still reading all this?…
AND I post erotic pictures on my AW Tumblr…. (no, not of me…. yet….)
AND I’m planning on hosting sexual wellness workshops….
AND I’m preparing an orgasm training workshop….
AND I’ve published a sample chapter of erotica on Amazon.com Kindle, that’s FREE for Prime members. (Tempted? Go ahead, you know you want to check it out…. I’ll wait right here for you to return…)
Oh…. you’re back? Great… Where was I…….
And is now a good time to mention I had to have a medical abortion in 1997?…. No?…. Oh…. Well, then, I guess I’ll save my tale of spending 20 minutes on the kitchen floor in such horrendously painful, incapacitating contortions I could not crawl across the floor to reach the phone to call 9-1-1… (twice)… for another time.
Still reading? Wow.
And I hate religion…. I am a very spiritual person, but religion is little more than man-made rules set by a core group of wealthy, powerful elitist men who suppress the masses into subjugation and adoration through machinations of fear and guilt — and who usually HATE WOMEN…. I don’t dislike the followers of religion necessarily — I like the UU’s, and I’ve never met a Methodist I didn’t like.
AND I am the Queen of Musical Theatre…. Seriously.
Now you know. My secrets are out. I no longer have any fear. My life is a life fully lived and living!
Judge me. You will be defining yourself, not me.
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I can think of no better place to begin discussing Mind, Body, and Spirit topics than with breathing. Considering that the act of breathing is something most of us take for granted, the role of breathwork and mindful breathing can be truly transformative to your mind, your body, and your spirit.
The process of breathing is a complex coordinated effort that involves the whole torso, not just the lungs. If you follow a yogic or body awareness path, then breathing can be a full-body sport. As a voice teacher, I start all my students on ujjayi breathing, the belly breathing technique from yoga, before we sing any scales or attempt any songs. The student must begin to incorporate ujjayi breathing into their everyday life and subsequently into their singing. Phonation (sound production) is based on airflow. While vocal science research has shown that the vocal folds are responsible for controlling airflow across the vocal folds when we speak or sing, breathing is a coordinated dance of the abdominal muscles, the thoracic and pelvic diaphragms, as well as the internal and external intercostal muscles of the ribcage (to say nothing of the bronchi and alveoli inside the lungs responsible for the gas exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide).
Deep, calm breathing has many relaxing and healthful benefits mentally and somatically.
When we are under stress, nervous, or anxious, the body releases stress hormones such as adrenaline and cortisol. An adrenal response evolved from the human body’s early days, adrenaline is great if you’re chasing a mammoth or running from a saber-tooth tiger. It’s not so great if you’re about to go on stage to recite your lines or enter a restaurant on a first date. Adrenaline floods the brain, sort of shutting down the frontal lobes, which are responsible for things like language. (Another reason being nervous before an audition or a date can leave you stumbling for words like a blithering idiot.) With the frontal cortex on coffee break, the primal brain takes over and straddles the fence in fight-or-flight mode. Deep, slow breathing can counter all of this, calming the mind and allowing the stress to be manageable so you can deal with it like a rational human and not a caveman. Breathwork allows you to focus on the task at hand or ease your pesky thoughts away if you’re trying to meditate.
Try sitting alone, with all noisy electronic devices turned OFF, and just breath deeply for 10 or 15 minutes.
Breathing is the action by which we replenish that chemical that is pertinent to our existence: oxygen. Breathing high in the chest — upper chest breathing — is a style of breathing in early English and French singing, but it is not recommended for any singing, speaking, or breathwork, in my opinion, because upper chest breathing also triggers the release of adrenaline. Breathe low in the belly, breathing down into the pelvic diaphragm. In voice, this style of breathing is called appoggio, but it is basically ujjayi breathing. I’ve been known to have students lie on the floor or sit against the wall in chair pose to feel the expansion of the back while breathing and singing. While on the floor, I have them place their binder or sheet music on their stomach so they can see when the book rises and falls and learn to associate that feeling with proper, deep abdominal expansion and contraction. A mirror is crucial to see the ribs moving outward away from the torso.
When we focus on breathing, we tend to focus on our body and our alignment, taking an inventory of how we’re doing physically. Tantra and Kundalini paths use different breathing exercises like kapala bhati and bhastrika that really, really work the body — these are powerful breath practices that require guidance from a teacher, especially if you’re engaging the body by applying “locks” at certain chakras. And in case you’re wondering, oxygen feeds orgasms!
A basic Sun Salutation is a great way to combine deep breath and body work to get the blood and oxygen flowing.
The word spirit comes from the Latin spiritus meaning “soul, vigor, breath,” derived from the word spirare which means “to breathe,” the root of both of these being spir. When we are born, the first thing we do once the umbilical cord is cut is breathe — we take in breath, we are in-spir-ed, or inspired. The last thing we do before we shake off this mortal coil is to exhale our last breath — ex-spire, or expire. In between that first inspiration and our final expiration, we take in and release breath repeatedly, or as we call it re-spir-ation, the act of respiration.
It is no coincidence to me that the lungs are located right there at the heart chakra. Whenever we are touched emotionally — in a good way or unpleasant way, we tend to either gasp, inhale quickly, or exhale in sadness or disbelief. I feel our emotions and breath are connected. Mindful breathing helps us stay rooted, grounded to the earth, when circumstances leave our mind — or our heart — reeling. Deep breathing can also lower blood pressure and slow a racing pulse.
Breathwork is absolutely fundamental to being healthy. The art of being inspired repeatedly throughout our life is as simple as breathing. When we’re overwhelmed, overly excited, can’t focus, or can’t think, deep breathing can help keep us centered and better prepared to relax into our task at hand or meditation session.
If you read my post from the other day, you know ArousedWoman is now 1 year old — and what a year it has been! I did not set out to create what ArousedWoman has become — I just followed my heart to continue my activism for myself personally and “to stir to action” and “awaken” others to the need for activism for women’s rights and other issues collectively. And poof! ArousedWoman is now arousing readers around the world.
As I review everything that’s gone on in 2012, I am re-focusing ArousedWoman for 2013 and beyond. My activism is definitely still here (sorry, men :-)), but I want to hone in on specifics to awaken people to healthy sexuality and a sex-positive outlook. Sex is not about control, or pain, or staying quiet to keep the peace in a relationship. Our sexual happiness is fundamental to our happiness as human beings, and I don’t think true happiness is possible if we’re playing manipulative games within our sexual relationships.
If you’ve read much of my blog, then you’ll know that I approach sexuality from a Tantric perspective, with leanings toward Kundalini and other ancient wisdom. With so many people trying to find their sexual identity in our 21st century soulless culture, a link to the past is a good grounding for wading through the murky flotsam and getsam of shame, fear, and guilt pervading our Puritanical society.
I think the human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful. Orgasms are beautiful — and natural — and healthy. With that as my foundation, I am re-focusing ArousedWoman to “Awakening Sexuality in Mind, Body, and Spirit.”
Not just a sex blog, I want to help people on a myriad of levels. Sexual health begins in the mind, but vitality of the body and spirit are just as crucial to being happy sexually, and in turn, happy in your everyday life. And my dear atheist readers, don’t get scared by the word “spirit”! Spirit has nothing to do with religion (religion is an evil pyramid scheme for an elite core of men to gain and maintain their power and wealth). I may throw some good ol’ pagan sex rite stuff in here occasionally, but trust me, religion is NOT on the menu here!
Orgasm is not just a physical phenomenon but more truly an intangible response of the subtle body and the parasympathetic nervous system. I will cover some non-traditional aspects of holistic growth such as exploring dreams, meditation, breathing, stress relief, raising energy, shamanism, Tantric bodywork, bioenergetics, the brain vs. the mind, meat-based diet vs. vegetarianism, nutrition, exercise, and controversial topics such as entheogens and polyamory, to name a few.
Beginning this summer, I will be creating videos that address some of the issues and posting them on my new YouTube page. The videos will cover anatomy, nutrition, exercise, and more topics that I will also cover here in the blog. Why not sooner, you may ask? I need to get a video camera with a mic input. So until I upgrade to an iPhone or shell out some moolah for an actual digicam with a mic input, the videos will be on hold till summer-ish.
And I’m close to announcing the beta test for my orgasm training method, so be sure to sign up for my newsletter for more information on how to apply for that when the time comes.
All in all, I am profoundly grateful for all my new friends I’ve gained in the past year. It really has been amazing! Looking ahead, 2013 is destined to be even better. Stay tuned for exciting developments!
Trish, what is it about redheaded women that truly makes them stand out compared to other women? Are they harder to love/please or is that just a myth? Do people get burned easily by such a warm personality and fiery passion? Or is that just a myth. What are things that people need to understand about redheads? What sexual myths do you hear often that are associated to women with Red hair? Do you honestly believe any of them? Does that make men or women more attracted to you or at least curious in some way?
Redheads are quite deserving of such awesome questions, so thank you!
“Redhead” is a ubiquitous term for the fair-skinned, often freckle-faced redheads of Ireland and Scotland. However, natural redheads are found around the world. Redheads have been the source of stereotyping — good and bad — for millennia, and it’s only been in recent times that being a redhead has been something to get excited about.
“Red” hair ranges from reddish “strawberry” blonde, to carrot-top orange, to ginger, auburn, and chestnut shades. In a 1995 study of redheads at Edinburgh University, Dr. Jonathan Rees discovered the reason for red hair is due to a mutation of the melanocortin 1 receptor, a.k.a, the MC1R, on the 16th chromosome, something he called the “Ginger Gene.”
Redheads have a greater risk of bruising and sunburning, but we also have a higher pain threshold. In fact, redheaded people can require up to 20% more anesthesia during surgery than non-reds. Perhaps this is why Irish people are so characterized as pugilistic — Gaels can take a hit and not feel it as readily?
Redheads have been a thorn in the side of world super-powers since at least ancient times. Two of the Roman Empire’s most notorious foes were redheads: the warrior leader Vercingetorix of Gaul and the uppity Iceni warrior queen Boudicca of Britannia were both said to have masses of flowing red hair. Both Mary Magdalene and Judas were also said to have red hair, and poor Eve is also portrayed as a redhead. Between the Roman Empire’s pagan enemies and the Roman Church’s dislike of the Bible’s freethinking dissidents, adverse stereotypes of MC1R mutants were created to slander redheads.
Some of the myths that abound with having red hair also tie in to myths about freckles and even fair skin. In medieval times, women were burned at the stake for having moles or “unexplained” markings on their bodies (supposedly succubi of the Devil).
Other myths that surround the heads o’ red include such gems like redheads don’t have souls, walking by a redhead on the sidewalk means you have to turn around, or that if two redheads have a child together, the child will be evil… the list goes on.
Natural redheads are also associated with having naturally large breasts. Artists exploit this from pin-ups to comic book characters to “Jessica Rabbit,” therefore redheads are rarely portrayed as small-busted. Thanks to the stereotypes of big breasts in porn, men automatically assume a woman with naturally large breasts is more sexual or more easily talked into sex — neither is true. But add that myth to the other fiery temper myths about redheads, you’d think redheads were the sexual scourge of the earth.
Growing up, I hated being ridiculed for my “weird” hair color and “weird” eye color. I even hated my freckles until an Indian dancer told me they were special because they were kisses from the sun. Somehow, him saying that made me feel better about my freckles. As for my hair, I was called “Peppermint Patty” and “Pippy Longstocking” more times than I care to recall, but I didn’t mind being called “Anne of Green Gables” or “Heidi.” Though, thankfully, I have never been called the offensive “Tampon Top,” as some redheads are.
I asked around on Twitter, and I received a plethora of replies from men… so adding that to my personal experience of what men have said they love (and HATE) about me… the overwhelming consensus is that redheaded women are thoroughly uninhibited in bed.
Apparently, the outlandish stories about redheads being wild, sexually insatiable nymphomaniacs are neither a myth nor stereotype, but a delicious reality. :-) Since by “redhead,” I assume you’re talking about the Gaelic fiery Irish redhead — or at least, I hope so — I can attest that redheads are amazing in bed.
The fire isn’t just for the temperament or flaming auburn tresses, though. We Gaelic types also tend to have hot skin. I have had partners who didn’t want to sleep next to me or even hold my hand because my skin is so hot to the touch. This is only one reason my nickname is “Lava.” And I find it interesting that in Ayurvedic medicine, redheads are thought to epitomize the elemental energy pitta, which is a mix of fire & water ( see?… Lava :-) ).
Yes, we’re easy to anger (we’re Irish, duh!), but we’re also easy to laugh. Redheads love adventure, taking risks, and trying new things. We love singing and dancing with pure joy and full heart, and we want everyone around us to feel the same. We love spinning a good yarn and listening to a great story in return. Redheads naturally gravitate toward walking the road less traveled.
According to my non-scientific research, almost every man has a dream of being with a redheaded woman. I, myself, align with the “Women Who Run With the Wolves” type of woman — women who are close to nature and the natural, inherent freedom of woman. But then, I’m also a heathen pagan witch. So who knows?!
Maybe that’s what men see in redheads — we heed the call of wild abandon in life, in love, and in sex, when other women allow themselves and their sexuality to be repressed.
And we don’t take shit off anyone! :-P
- OpEd: Fucking Cherokee Men (and Other People of Color)
- DailyOJ 07-07-12: Scent of a Woman… and the Sweet Nectar of Vagina Pie
- OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not?
- Anatomy: Female Ejaculation and Woman’s Ability to Conceive
- OpEd: How I Like My Sex… Bare…
Released on Kindle a few months ago, Chapter 6 of Confessions of an Aroused Woman is based on my personal experiences. Confessions of an Aroused Woman is a fictionalized series of erotica vignettes that is women-positive, sex-positive, and all-around fun to read.
Reviews on Amazon.com:
Refreshingly, realistically, erotic May 31, 2012 ~ By B. Lee
Trish Causey’s writing is as informative and exciting as her website. It is fascinating to read her first-person accounts of what an aroused woman feels and does. The scene in which she is showing her man her masturbation, describing in exquisite detail her actions and sensations and thoughts, while he honors her arousal and gradually contributes to it, is intense! The chapter is so descriptive, hot, and wet, that it’s almost an erotic case study, and men-loving women would do well to take notes, with a towel nearby.
An open door…May 31, 2012 ~ By Saloonsinger
I read with relish this chapter of Confessions of an Aroused Woman. Ms. Causey writes with power and emotion. She takes us with her on a journey into being her complete and sexual self, and in so doing opens the door for each of us to recognize the same power within us. I highly recommend her as someone to keep an eye out for in the book world.
One of my Twitter followers wrote on 09-03-12:
Purchase Chapter 6 for only $2.99 … to tide you over until the entire book is ready for publication!
Thank you! And I really hope you enjoy it. MUAH!! xoxo
* Read Part 1 here. *
So my body was buzzing from the early morning’s activities, and I did my duties for work (theatre writing) and continued plotting my domination of the world via Musical Theatre. My 12:30 p.m. alarm announced it was time for KSMO practice, and after a few snoozes o’ the alarm, off I went to hit the shower before hitting the bed to enjoy my second helping of orgasmic bliss.
I did my 20-minue KSMO practice, trying to do the single caressing (epic fail, I like constant caressing — go figure!), and still trying to get the vocalization just right. While having sex (solo or partnered) is not recommended on KSMO practice days, I was just horny. And the morning’s session had left me wanting the vaginal O part of a blended orgasm.
To stimulate my prostate, I started with the glass wand. I have had some amazing developments with the prostate stimulation. Though the clit is known for producing sudden, heated, fireworks, the She Spot (G-Spot) is known to be a slow-burner of arousal — deceptively slow, incredibly deep, full, filling arousal. For me, the vaginal stimulation now brings this full-body, core arousal much more quickly than it used to. (So ladies, if you’ve never done prostate stimulation because you’ve heard it takes a long time to get aroused, give it a try on a regular basis. Your body will probably “calibrate” to this stimulation and start getting aroused more quickly with steady practice!)
With my prostate warmed up, I started the simultaneous clit stim. Since starting KSMO, I can use a lot less stimulation on my clit. I may start off with circles, but I usually end up doing long strokes from just above the clitoral hood down to the outer labia. Nowadays, I’ll often start with some OM clit fingering, and that really gets those clitoral nerves humming. And frankly, my clit was sore from this morning.
I switched to my penisy vibrator (sans vibration) so I could rock out my A-Spot. Because I’m already extremely aroused, the fullness of the vibrator hits all the “spots” and “zones” in the vagina. And I shudder, a full-body shudder. (Actually, I think it’s an orgasm, a full-body O as the vibe goes in, but that’s just my perception of it.)
Public service announcement: Guys, THIS is why you should spend 15 to 30 minutes on “foreplay”! Once aroused, there isn’t a spot in the vagina that isn’t ready to orgasm with a little extra love. Doing this will help bring up the horrible statistics that about 70% of women NEVER orgasm during penetrative sex!!!
During the journey to orgasm, I noticed I kept stopping all stimulation. I have no idea why. I didn’t plan on this or consciously decide to stop. It just sort of happened. My body seemed to know what it wanted and how it wanted it. I would stop both hands momentarily just to feel the effects of the stimulation. For some reason, I kept doing this — both hands stimulating, pausing to feel, stimulating pausing, feeling… over and over and over. Each time, I moaned,a little higher pitched than usual — I even had the observationist critique of “Gee, I sound cheezy!” But I didn’t care. This letting the body take over was new for me, and it was delicious! Each time while pausing, I could feel sensations bubbling up and expanding not into orgasm (at the moment) but brewing something bigger, thicker, deeper.
Normally, the post-orgasm emotion begins 5 to 10 seconds after the orgasms, and even then, the emotion/tears begin softly, quickly building in intensity to full-out crying, then fading. Usually afterward, I wind up laughing at myself because I feel kind of ridiculous over the whole thing. (Jung might say I’m in ego, but after letting loose, moaning, howling, and crying, I think getting back in ego might be a good thing so I can get on with my day!)
Today, the emotion hit instantly. In fact, I was barely through the last orgasm when the crying erupted from me, forcibly bringing up emotions from my core. I know uterine orgasms are emotional, but this was raw and primal. I felt emotionally pummeled. I have no idea where it came from. I can only surmise that the catharsis of writing my breasts article and the subsequent good response touched me or knocked loose something that needed to be — could only be — released through deep, full-body, full-emotion, body/spirit integrated orgasm.
Now, I usually am so relaxed or so exhausted by this point that I doze off into a light sleep. I’ll doze about 15 minutes, roll over, and doze another 15 minutes. I’ll then lay there to feel what’s going on in my body — usually, echoes are still going on. For me, I define echoes as the after-orgasms — possibly a series of orgasms in their own right — that are contractions of the genitals and lower core: vagina, anus, cervix dipping down, clit throbbing, blood pulsating through the inner and outer labia, even my lower abdominals, and definitely my glutes still clenching, etc. I’ve noticed my hips will continue to rock well after the orgasm spectacular is over. These echoes/contractions go on for a half hour to an hour.
Today, I fell asleep almost immediately. I think I was emotionally as well as physically exhausted from the session. Not to mention the 90-minute session I’d had earlier that morning. (And people wonder why I won’t work out at a gym?!) But this was no light snooze. This was a hard sleep. In fact, I slept for over an hour. When I woke up, I looked at the clock and would have jumped out of bed if I’d had the energy. Which was another strange feeling — normally I feel energized and buzzy at this point. But not today. I was tired. And I had a weird feeling in my chest wall.
I first experienced heartgasms last Fall. Sometimes, people feel heartgasms as sudden happiness that makes them clutch their hands to their heart, or they feel as if an orgasm has just happened IN the heart area. My heartgasms were/are similar. Mostly, I feel a sudden buzzing in my chest wall/rib cage, as if my inner/astral me is trying to burst out of my physical body and go back to the spirit plane. (If you’re not into astral stuff and don’t know what I’m talking about, I’ll have to explain this in another post.)
What I felt today was a strong tug-of-war between my body and my inner/astral me that was trying to escape, to return to the spirit plane, or at least the Land of Orgasm. If I were a 60 year-old man, a smoker, or ate fried foods, I might think I was having a heart attack. Glad it was just an orgasm! :P
This tug-of-war happening at my chest wall/rib cage went on for hours. It was less intense once I had to go back to pretending I’d worked all day long and did other responsible stuff. :D But the sensations were still there. And in my genitals, I stil had the feeling of the bubbling up, expanding, full, hot, pulsating, buzz, and echoes.
I don’t like this in-between feeling. I want to definitely be somewhere — definitely here or definitely there. Though I guess if I’m definitely there, I’d be dead. Another insight into why the French term for orgasm is “la petite mort” — the little death. And maybe why we keep returning to arousal and orgasm to experience the Other Side if only briefly.
C’est la vie.
Aroused and somewhere,
- REGISTER for Tantra-based orgasm training
- Sign up for the ArousedWoman newsletter
- Take the ArousedWoman Orgasm Questionnaire
An author and creator of oracle cards, Baron-Reid is billed as having “facilitated hundreds of her popular seminars and workshops on developing intuition.” She also wrote the books The Map: Finding the Magic and Meaning in the Story of Your Life and Remembering the Future: The Path to Recovering Intuition.
Baron-Reid is firmly entrenched in the 21st century New Age movement, so this CD may not resonate immediately for those who are more logically-minded. However, without knowing much else about her and by listening to the CD, I can sense Baron-Reid is adept at helping clients attune to their inner selves. After all, loosening the hold (and reliance) on the logical mind is part of the inner journey we all encounter as we grow spiritually and energetically.
“Chakra” is Sanskrit for “wheel” and refers to the philosophy of seven energy centers that correspond to seven body centers from the tailbone to the crown of the head. As with Chakra or Kundalini training, Journey Through the Chakras begins with the first chakra and its correspondences, progressing through each energy center. The vivid guided meditation is narrated by Baron-Reid herself, over original music by Mars Lasar. The CD concludes with an original song written and sung by Baron-Reid.
The CD has its flaws, but overall, I do think it has merit for those wanting an indirect lesson in learning about the chakras. It is less than an hour long, and yet doesn’t feel that long.
The very aspects of the CD that some listeners find endearing, others will find annoying: repetition of certain phrases, nature sounds, breathing “ahhhhhh” sounds at various intervals, and New Agey music underscore. Oddly, the more I listen to the CD, the less some of these elements stand out, and therefore the less they annoy me.
Baron-Reid is clearly not a voice over artist. Her voice has a rasp to it that some find to be sultry, but I do not — I think she needs to be seen by a speech pathologist. She also breathes in strange places, and her voice gives out at times, which are clear indications of weak breath support. Her glottal stops on words beginning with vowels were truly annoying to me.
The audio engineer did not edit the voice over track to current industry standards — you can hear Baron-Reid’s mouth clicks, lip smacks, numerous plosives, and weird breathing. **Note: I am being extremely picky here. Some people find her voice to be “sultry” and “husky,” lending a sensual feel to the meditation. But since this is an audio review, I have to lay it all on the table for the potential listener. Your mileage may vary.**
It’s too soon to tell if I will ever really love this CD, but I do think it has some valuable properties. I have found myself plugging in to listen to it as I lay on my bed, wanting to let my mind wander a bit. I do not focus on picturing the journey as she describes, but rather what I want to think about, and yet, I occasionally find myself suddenly visualizing the scene she is currently describing.
In the few days I’ve had the CD, I’ve listened to it perhaps 5 to 7 times. Each night I’ve had a strange dream or series of dreams involving my current life circumstances (which I never dream about), people I know (I almost never dream about people I actually know), situations I know I need to resolve, getting help (from people I never thought would be willing to help me), and other “strange”/never-dreamt-that-before types of dreamscapes. Interesting, indeed.
How to Use this CD:
Like most “pursuits” that are spiritual or energy based, you cannot actually pursue them. Your subconscious self has to be open to receiving information which in turn allows you to experience and integrate needed information into your psyche and your subconscious. Only half listening to this CD brought me dreams I don’t think I would have had otherwise. I can only wonder “what dreams may come” if I actually did the meditation/visualization.
Perhaps I will revisit this review in a month’s time. I am not sorry I bought the CD — I generally despise guided meditations and I’ve never bought one before now, so the fact that I actually bought this and keep listening to it must mean something positive for its effect on me.
Aroused and meditating,
In The Jungle Book, Rudyard Kipling’s loveable bear, Baloo, doesn’t want much out of life. He prefers a simple, uncluttered, unfettered existence. In the Disney film version, Baloo sings a fanciful tune about “The Bare Necessities.” This prompted me to write about what I like from a sexual union, a night of ecstasy, and the promise of wanton desires fulfilled. (With all the hooplah about what people are supposed to do to “create” a romantic evening — what we should wear, what we should say, what techniques we should know, what doo-dads, gizmos, and whizbangs should be at the ready — I simply must offer my two cents.)
In “The Bare Necessities,” Terry Gilkyson’s lyrics go like this:
Look for the bare necessities
The simple bare necessities
Forget about your worries and your strife
I mean the bare necessities
Old mother nature’s recipes
That bring the bare necessities of life.
I want the bare necessities when it comes to sex. No pretense. No acting out a scene from a movie. No bullshit. Just being a real person with another real person enjoying a real moment together.
What does this mean?
I hate lingerie. I don’t want rose petals on the bed. No candles. I don’t want a steak dinner beforehand. I don’t drink. I can’t stand perfume or cologne. I despise “romantic” music. I refuse to “talk dirty.” I won’t play “dress-up.” I don’t do S&M (or bondage or dominatrix/submissive crap). I don’t like kink.
I’m fat. Why kill perfectly innocent flowers? Can you say “fire hazard?” Who wants to fuck on a full stomach? Alcohol tastes gross. Allergies. Cheezy city! Don’t bring your porn fantasies to me. I do theatre for a living. Solve your “mommy issues” on your own time. It’s weird.
Now that that’s all clear… here’s the reason. I don’t want my partner focused on all the peripheral “stuff” when he or she should be focused on me. And likewise, I don’t want to be in a panic trying to get everything ready. Again, dealing with “set dressing,” lighting, and sound is what we theatre pros call a “tech rehearsal” or a “hang and focus” in the theatre biz. I certainly don’t want to do that when I’m supposed to be getting aroused, anticipating the events to come.
Mainly, I don’t want to feel like I’m putting on an act, pretending to be something I’m not (more theatre). I want to walk into the room naked, body flaws and all, and that be okay because my partner sees me, the person I am, my heart, my soul, my being, instead of all the ways I don’t meet the American standard of beauty. My mind should be filled with a million thoughts of how I can touch him — not wishing I could afford lipo.
So here’s the recipe for having sex with me:
- Don’t be a moron. (I’m afraid I must insist on this.)
- Be prepared to be naked immediately. I don’t do bullshit / tease / “foreplay” on the couch. We’re heading to the bedroom post haste.
- The lights will be low and minimal, but definitely enough light to see everything. And I mean, everything.
- Speaking of seeing everything, make sure you shave your balls — and wash your ass crack.
- The music will be a meditation CD of my choosing. Get over it.
- The sex starts with talking for an hour or longer…
(Okay, I know I just lost the male audience, but “bare” with me.)… If I haven’t been with you before, how can I know what you like? Should I assume what you like based on what my last partner liked? Or the guy before him? Do you really want me remembering them while I’m with you? Didn’t think so. So start gabbing. Of course, we can touch, silly. Did you think we would only talk? If that’s the case, then let’s braid our hair and do our nails!
Why spend so much time on talking and experimental touching? If you’re familiar with the concept of positive and negative poles of the body, then you’d know a woman’s breasts (in line with her heart chakra) are the positive pole and the true entryway to the vagina (her sex chakra). For a man, his positive pole is the penis (no pun intended) which is his sex chakra that leads to his awakening in his chest (his heart chakra). It seems the old adage really is true, the way to a man’s heart is through his penis, and the way to a woman’s vagina is through her heart.
Do I have favorite positions? Of course. The Kama Sutra, Tantra, the Tao, and Kundalini teachings are filled with ideas for sexual awakening, soul connection, and heart chakra fulfillment. That doesn’t mean they’ll work with you. Or vice versa.
A shorter penis works well for women on top, a longer penis is great for side-behind. A curved penis is great for She Spot stimulation like having one leg over his shoulder (Splitting the Bamboo) position. Breast worship is a prerequisite to yoni massage or any genital yoga. Lingam massage and oral ecstasy are two of my specialties. Then there’s one I named the Reverse Rockingchair. (Don’t ask what it is. There’s only one way you’ll ever know what it entails.)
Seriously, though, communication is vital to the partnership, whether it’s for one night or a lifetime. If all you want is the quick screw, then you’ve definitely come to the wrong place. I expect this to go for hours, and while I suspect there will be orgasms a-plenty, I’d rather have a connection with another human being than a race to the finish. After all, I don’t need a man for orgasms — I do that amazingly well on my own, thank you very much.
Therein lies the problem. I don’t need a man. I want a man. I don’t need sex. I want sex. There is a difference. I don’t need a man in my life to take out the trash, mow the lawn, change the brakes, or fix the leaky sink. I can hire tradesmen to handle repairs around the house or on the car. As a 21st century post-feminism empowered woman, I don’t look to a man to fill “necessary” roles the way 19th century women needed men to be able to accomplish certain tasks for the upkeep of the farm or homestead.
I don’t “perform” in bed (more theatre intrusion). I don’t want you to have “performance anxiety” either. I want to sit together, and touch, and kiss, and experiment. I want to caress, and nibble, and coax, and cherish you. And I want you to want the same of me, for me, and with me.
I realize that by asking for something so simple and “deconstructed” I’m asking for quite a lot. I’m asking you to leave your ego at the door, along with your preconceived notions about what I want or how I want it. I’m asking you to give up your innate goal-oriented competitiveness, the ingrained score-keeper, and the death-grip on your self-worth and masculine identity. I’m asking you to give up the enculturation of patriarchal propaganda. I’m asking you to just… be.
I know exactly what I want and how I want it. I can tell you, and I can show you. All you have to do is pay attention. Ask questions. But to do that, you have to focus on me, the real me, and not keep a running tally in your head, comparing me to the other women you’ve been with. Be here. Now. Be in the moment. Be egoless. Nothingness. Non-attachment. Just feel. Be.
I like my sex simple — bare — stripped of the illusions put forth by Cosmo sex quizzes and Victoria’s Secret catalogues and the myths perpetuated by porn and skin mags. Sex should be a spirit connection not just mutual masturbation. Otherwise the orgasms will only be physical. And I’m not interested in that. Make me fly — fly upward above the earth, across the universe, through the veil, and let’s bask in the energy of cosmic orgasm and our union with the cosmos.
That’s not asking too much…
Aroused and baring all,