Sex is Sacred – Part 2

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Sex is sacred and sex is creative!

If you follow my Facebook page, you already know that my celibacy experiment ended after only two weeks (I know, those of you that know me are still laughing hysterically). I think there is a time for celibacy, but for me, that time is not now and it was not for the time after I wrote that blog post over three months ago.

Shortly after I wrote that post, I met someone. We were both coming out of relationships and we were both depressed, lonely, and starving for some genuine human connection. We connected. I told him we couldn’t have sex and about the experiment. He understood. So we cuddled and talked and snuggled for four nights. The morning after the fourth night, I caved. It had been 15 days since I had last had sex and my body welcomed the passionate release like a hot shower after a long day. Only it was 15 days. I didn’t fret over not making it the 3 months. Another time, maybe, another place.

The sex I’ve been having for the last three months were a necessary creative fuel for my writing and my motivation. A lot has happened in that short span of time! I began my private Facebook group, Sacred Sex, Emotions, and Intimacy, and began to own my calling as a sex positive teacher and sex/relationship coach. Sex is by nature creative, as in, it creates life! Therefore, our sexual health is directly correlated with our creativity. Everyone’s sexuality is different and everyone’s creative nature is different. The interplay between the two is individual to each person.

So, even though I “failed” at my little experiment, I’m okay with it. The sex feels good, especially after the previous few months of mediocre, meaningless sex. It makes me happy and right now in my life happiness is essential to moving forward and doing my work. It made me realize that abstaining is not the right thing for me now because of who I am and how I thrive. So I failed at my abstinence, but I didn’t fail at being myself. It was a lovely experiment and maybe I’ll try it again someday.

F*cking Words

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Words are fucking words
But give them breath
And give them life,
They turn into more than soundless shapes.
They become whispers of dignity
Echoes of magic,
Reasons why we change our minds.
They become resolutions
And a quiet hum
Of the affirmation
That we are human.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I believe
We can trim the landscape of our minds.
We can transform our thoughts
From mindless chatter
Into something, out there, in the world.
From thoughts, words are born,
Bred like wolves in cold, dark caves,
Groomed like hunters, armed with stealth and cunning.
These wolves have brought men to their knees and stopped other predators in their tracks.

This canine power is wielded by us – the writers, the thinkers, the artists.
We are the brave, bold ones who say what others are too afraid to.
Give us your voice, give us your fucking words.
Give us the chance to hear your fierce growls and the guttural cry of rage at what this humanity has cost you.
The beast within this woman has more to say.
We will not give up hope in the power of these fucking words.
If you have an ounce of hope left, let your voice be heard.

Save the world.
Write poems.

Photo cred: Lauren Peng / Unsplash

Sex is Sacred.

Sex is sacred.

Wait, wait, that’s not right.

Sex is messy, complicated, fun, and a whole lot of other things, but sacred? I don’t know.

Sex is powerful.

In fact, sex has been used throughout time as a means of gaining and maintaining power. Sex has of course also been used for procreation. Procreation and power. I’m fairly certain it’s been used for pleasure in the past as well, and that’s primarily how we think of it today. There’s this holy bubble around sex that it must be pleasurable or else there’s something wrong. Sex is mating for humans, and it does in fact sometimes result in a new human being created. Does that mean sex doesn’t necessarily have to always be pleasurable? *gasp*

Well, here’s my answer. I don’t fucking know. But I do know, however, that every time I have sex, it had better be a fucking delight. Or else…

What? We’ll change position. I’ll kindly suggest a different angle to my partner, or another technique, or another hole *wink*. Or we’ll talk about it. Or I’ll ask, “How do you want me?”

Or (surprise surprise) – guess what! – we give up and laugh and decide it’s not the right time. There’s a time for everything and much like the oft-debated female orgasm, the act of sex itself can’t be forced.

So, what’s my point? What’s the end-game here? Fuck. Well, today I couldn’t stop thinking about how great of an idea it would be to abstain from sex. Initially, when it popped into my head, I laughed. I got scared and I laughed. As you’ve seen, I have in the past used sex from another as substitute for loving myself. If I were to really buckle down (literally) and give up sex, I’d have no choice but to find my love within, not from an external source. It’s one thing to preach self-love and periodically change my thoughts into more kind words. It’s quite another to actually starve myself of the one thing that has sustained me.

No, it’s not an exaggeration. No, I’m not a sex addict. I like sex. I love sex. This doesn’t mean I’m DTF when-the-fuck-ever or with who-the-fuck-ever. I enjoy connection, intimacy. I enjoy pleasure and sensation. I enjoy being worshipped and adored. I also enjoy giving. I am a self-proclaimed Scorpion Succubus.

Some of you may not understand this. That’s okay. I’m not talking to you. You can stick around for shits and giggles and gasps, but this is not for you. I could try to explain it to the best of my ability, but somehow I know my words will fall short. It doesn’t mean you like sex any less. Your experience is simply different from mine. With sex, I thrive. I fiend. I can get hangry (in this case – horny and angry). And, as is most relevant, I have confused love with sex and sex with love.

And I am confused. Actually, more curious than confused. I am certain of my own experiences and I’m certain that I like sex from both men and women. In the overlap of love and sex, though, I’m a bit fuzzy. I’ve always thought it was such a shame English has only one word to express what love is, when some other languages boast dozens. But also, not a shame, because our many poets and wordsmiths might not have tried so fervently to describe it if we had other fodder to use.

So, in the quest for self-love, I give up sex. I even had the inkling to give up orgasms altogether (like, no masturbating) but that thought just seemed cruel. I thought, a week, a month, a year? But, three months seems fine for now. As of today, it’s already been a week since I last got laid, so we know I can go 7 days without much fuss.

Oh goddess, the rebel in me wants to fight this. I can feel it. Well, excuse me while I go vomit, cry, and/or give myself a little pep talk…..

 

 

Image: Pexels

The Longing

It’s vaguely familiar. I’ve been here before, but not in reality. In a manner of speaking, I’ve been here as an extra on the sidelines, watching events unfold and playing my small part. Everywhere I am is everywhere I’ve been, but somehow I keep moving forward. These are small steps I’m taking now, hidden by my reckless abandon and unabashed need for passion, for romance.

For sex, mostly. Not the sex in itself, but the desire that precedes it and the aching that follows. These love games in which I take part are nothing but a front to hide the longing inside me. Though I try to deny it, I long to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Though I convince myself this kind of love does not exist, I still search, under the guise of a physical wanting. On the contrary, while my body has needs, I could do without the touch of another if it is replaced by cold, violent plastic. This fulfills my physical needs, so much so, that I can curl up into a ball and sleep tightly through the night without thinking of my loneliness again until morning.

As afraid of it as I am, I want a true love. I want to fill the emotional gaping within me. I want someone to reach out and with one touch expand themselves until I am full to the brim. These restless reveries are what keep me afloat in this ocean of confusion. They wrap themselves around my head with my nostrils barely inches from the water. They carry me from one significant moment to the next. They hold me over until I am able to catch my breath again. I force myself not to feel anything. I must be numb lest my heart loosen mistakenly and drop into another, as our flesh melts together.

When I am with you, I fear this happens. My skin burns and flexes under your touch. We are united in playful moments that I wish only to be a game, but my eyes betray me. They cannot help but gaze at you longingly and demand that they never look upon another face again. The game turns into a lovely sport in which you always win. You poke and pry and prod at my insides until the dams of my heart break loose and my soul comes rushing out to greet the source of its pounding and thudding. All the pent-up tension and emotion gush out of me. You pull me in, all of me: the sweat, the blood, the hurt, the fear. All the things I have tried to hold inside are falling now and you sweep them up knowingly, willingly.

So I take you to this place (or you take me, I’m not sure which) – this place I’ve been before but know nothing about. It’s possible that I have never been here and it only feels like home because you’re with me; not only your body, but your soul as well. I am too jaded and not enough naive to think foolishly that we could be. But in the deserts of my mind, lies a dry, still hope that there may be a possibility, however minute, however far into the future…that you might love me.

 

Written in December 2009 by me.

Photo from Pexels.

Five Months Post-Break-up

I’m having a hard time. It’s difficult for me to be alone right now. It’s been five months I’ve lived without you and for some reason, my heart still wants to travel to meet yours. I ache. I hurt. I’m tired.

I’m grieving the loss of you. There are a million and one reasons why it was “good” that we broke up and why it’s “better” now, and that I shouldn’t feel sad because now I’m happy and I don’t have an angry, oppressive, depressed person screaming at me every single day.

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Yeah, I get that. I’m grateful I’ve been able to move forward with my life and am pursuing my writing ambitions, doing my yoga thing, and living in a generally much more peaceful and happy state. It was a necessary step in my personal growth and healing. I have a lot of self-loving to do and a lot more healing to dive into.

But healing can hurt. Healing can be messy. Grief is an indescribable, all-consuming feeling that can pop up at any moment. I’m grateful I learned that it’s okay and normal to experience grief from the loss of a relationship and not just from a death. Losing a loved one to death is horrible and I’m not diminishing that loss.

But I’m grieving too. No matter how many times I’m told I “shouldn’t” because it’s “better” doesn’t fucking heal my pain from this loss.

It still hurts. It hurts every day. My heart, my body, and my soul ache in the absence of someone who has seen me at my worst, cheered me on through my best, and loved me through all of it. He was my friend, my lover, my confidante, a step-dad to my children. He helped me feel a little less alone in the world. There were problems, yes, and he has a lot of his own healing to do. Our break-up was mutual and it was necessary for both of us.

But after all the moving of boxes and furniture, separating of bills, decision making, and dividing up of stuff accumulated from over six years together, our lives may be separate, but feelings and memories still unite us. Stings of remembrance hit me every day in unexpected ways. However beneficial and necessary the separation, the emptiness and absence still leave an unattended void in my heart and in my life.

These intense feelings beg for answers – Will I be able to love someone again? Will I be able to share my life with someone so intimately again? How can I arrive at the place where my memories aren’t charged with emotion? What the fuck do I do with this grief?

But no answers come. Emotions flow like water. Most of the time, I feel okay. A lot of the time, I feel happy. Occasionally, I feel the heavy sadness cover me and I am not strong enough to lift it.

So I cry. And cry. And write. What else can I do?

 

 

 

 

Photo: Pexels

Self-love and Sex

It’s been 7 months since I’ve written a blog here. I’ve been writing lots of other things, but I figured it was time again. Although, I’m cheating because I’m going to share something I wrote several years ago. It’s as relevant a topic as any – self-love.

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From my journal, circa 2013:

I spent my entire youth developing a strong love for learning and in turn, it created urges within me to learn more and more. I was so sheltered, that when I left my parents’ house, I was so eager to learn about those things which I did not get taught, mostly about sex. It was not a wanton feeling held dormant, waiting to burst out, but a true human desire to understand myself, my own human nature. I desired these things which I did not understand, and no one had helped me understand them.

And so, at 18, I left the studies of literature and music, for the much more tangible studies of human interaction, which I knew nothing about. I discovered my seductive abilities and powers as a woman. I discovered my own desire to be touched, to be looked upon as a thing of beauty. In the process, I also discovered my human emotions (which could be considered flaws, by some): jealousy, guilt, shame, regret.

Despite all the pain and loss that comes with sex and love, the desire still burned. Why? Was it love? It was exactly the opposite. It came from an inability to do the thing that is most vital to every human being in the universe: to love one’s self genuinely. I burned with the desire to feel what it is we sometimes call love, to be lifted off the planes of this world and transcend above, a place where we believe there is something more powerful than our pain. In sex, I was a goddess, taken to flight by the highs of ecstasy. This feeling came from nothing more complex than union with another human body; most importantly, a human body that found me attractive and beautiful. If even for a brief moment, that other person did for me what I could not do for myself: love.

Or, at least, promote a feeling within me under the guise of love.

Why? Why was it so difficult to love myself? Why had I developed such a degrading way of talking to myself? Thought is a powerful, powerful thing. It can make us or break us. It sounds like such a simple task: to change one’s thoughts. One whisper to yourself can make all the difference. “You are disgusting. You are worthless. You are not worth loving.”

These thoughts inevitably spiral into deeper, more heart-wrenching accusations. Is this what we would do to someone we love? Would we speak this way to our significant other or our child? We would never even dream of speaking this way to a stranger (although, I suppose sometimes we would like to), and yet we talk to our own selves in this manner?

I learned so many things growing up. I consider myself smart, but why was I not taught the most fundamental human necessity (aside from the basics of physical survival): to love myself?

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In my journal, this question was left unanswered. It’s not important anymore. The Why is not nearly as important as the How, as the What Now? I have come to the place where I know a little better how to love myself and when I’m not, how to come back the place where I do. Self-love is an important topic now for those of us who want to help and heal others. We cannot truly love others unless we learn to love ourselves first. After all, it’s much harder to love oneself. As Pema Chödrön says: “It is unconditional compassion for ourselves that leads naturally to unconditional compassion for others.”

Photo: Pexels

Feed your dreams to follow them and shit.

 

STOP. Seriously, stop.

Will you stop whining for a second to listen to the real you underneath all the stress and bills and work and kids and jobs and responsibilities? The authentic version of you is screaming!

Do yourself a favor and don’t ignore that creative voice inside you. It is uniquely you, fashioned from every aspect of your human experience. No one else has your particular perspective – on life, on politics, on family, or work. Don’t discount your own thoughts and opinions.

If your gut/intuition/instinct is trying to tell you something, don’t allow social conditioning to push it down. I could just tell you to follow your dreams and find your passion, but let’s get more specific.

What are the innermost thoughts and desires inside your brain and your heart that you may not have even spoken out loud to yourself, much less another soul? What do you daydream about in the shower? Where does your mind wander to on a long drive (and then abruptly realize you’re going 80mph and wonder where the last 50 miles went? Oops.)

Maybe those thoughts don’t seem like much. Maybe they even seem downright silly to you. I promise you, though, when you get brave enough to share your silliness with the world, great things will happen. Opportunities open up. Be open to receiving them, you in all your goofy glory!

Respect yourself enough to listen to yourself.

What if you’ve had ideas before and they’ve never amounted to much? There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s nothing wrong with your idea. You think a million fantastic thoughts a day – not every single one will manifest into reality. The ones that keep bugging you, though, are the ones to foster.

Keep a journal, write on your hand, get a fabulous free app like Evernote, make a Facebook post, tell a friend. Whatever you do, keep the ever-changing chaos of your thoughts fresh by enlivening your ideas with new territory. If you keep giving your mind artistic license and respect it for its limitless potential, you will be able to follow your dreams.

If you don’t feed your dreams, they die. Feed your dreams, not your fears.

If you feed your dreams, they will return the favor and begin to feed you. They will leave tidbits of breadcrumbs for you to follow. So, feed your dreams, not your fears.

Back to our regularly scheduled whining…

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Photos and art by me!

Parent Know-How: The Progression of a Child’s Private Lesson

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There are exceptions to this progression. Some kids are naturally talented (maybe they were acrobats in a past life) and already have good body awareness. There are also kids who are not naturally talented, strong, or flexible, and they have to work extra hard just to figure out their hand from their foot. Eventually, though, the most talented kid will come to a skill that is difficult and that’s where the progression comes in.

  1. Strength and flexibility is where we start. The mechanics and technique of a skill come after the body has already been prepared to perform the skill. Being prepared means the body is flexible enough for the skill and strong enough to perform the skill. Only then, can the focus turn to the mechanics and technique. It doesn’t mean there is no practice of mechanics or technique. You do a little bit, but it’s less important. The strength and flexibility are much more important, initially. I would say about 75% strength and flexibility to 25% mechanics and technique. So, you might see us doing strength and flexibility exercises for awhile instead of tricks. Trust me, it’s worth it.
  2. Repeating a skill with a spot. A lot. While strength and flexibility are important, it can’t be the only focus because the gymnast must understand how to get into the skill and how to come out of the skill, even if they aren’t strong enough or flexible enough to perform it on their own. Also important is for them to notice how the skill feels in their body. Seeing a skill performed, one can imagine how it might feel to do it, but the reality is sometimes much different, especially for children who don’t have much body awareness to begin with. It’s also important to know how it looks. That’s why watching a skill in any capacity can be helpful, whether it’s watching your coach or another gymnast demonstrate the skill.
  3. Using props and, you guessed it, more strength and flexibility. Once the strength and flexibility have improved and progressed, then you can start working more on mechanics and technique. We may use the trampoline, stack mats, or use a floor bar for drills and other techniques to get the gymnast to repeat an action or mechanic used in a certain skill. However, we never ever stop working on strength and flexibility, because they’re important to maintain in order to perform a skill, but it may decrease to maybe 50% strength and flexibility and 50% skill work, which is practicing and repeating the skill, and working on mechanics and technique.
  4. Mental work. Ability level is irrelevant, however, when it comes to the mental work involved in gymnastics. Mental work includes but is not limited to dealing with fear and stress, a comparison mindset, and ability to focus, listen, and take correction. In working with children, it’s important for them to feel a sense of victory and accomplishment. Having small victories is essential, like doing a push-up correctly. It’s also important for children to learn proper body alignment so they don’t form bad habits or get injured.
  5. More repetition. It may seem monotonous, and it is, but this repetition is necessary to integrate the strength, flexibility, and mechanics of a skill into the gymnast’s body.
  6. Gymnastics (or any discipline, really) helps a child in every aspect of their life! As a coach. I’m constantly talking. A kid doing a private lesson has my voice in their head for an hour or more per week. That voice eventually translates into their own inner voice. They take this voice with them all the time, not just when they’re in the gym. I’m not just impacting them for the time I spend with them one on one. I’m putting my voice in their head so much that it may resurface at anytime, like when they take a test or are faced with a hard decision. It’s important I say the right words with my voice – encouraging words, empowering words, words that lift them up, not bring them down. I’m not just teaching physical gymnastics skills here. I’m teaching them life skills and essentially, how to think, how to live their life. Not because that what I’ve necessarily  been tasked to do, but that’s the reality of working with kids.When a child is playing a sport or learning something new, what they learn there is going to be applied in their life whether they realize it or not because they’re in such a formative stage in their development and in their life.

As a yoga teacher, I enjoy working with children one on one and being a positive voice in their life. I love having the opportunity to share with children the joy of gymnastics and the excitement of movement. It’s not just about learning a trick. It’s about freedom of movement and feeling good in their own skin.

This is my personal approach to private lessons formed from my own opinion and my experiences. I’d love to hear different approaches and what you might add to this list.

Experiencing Gratitude – A Practical Practice

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November is a month for gratitude. It’s the thing to do: 30 days of gratitude, Thanksgiving. Gratitude can be a meditative practice we take onto our mat and into our daily lives. There are reminders everywhere it seems. It’s mainstream to practice this form of selflessness because it’s simple and doesn’t cost any money or too much thought. Gratitude almost seems like an easy spiritual practice on the surface. While it can be beneficial to be casually thankful for one thing daily, or to make a list, let’s dig just a little bit deeper this month or maybe even just for one day.

Being thankful for people and things that bring us joy is easy. Self-exploration is hard. Combining these two practices is a way to incorporate yogic principles into our daily lives. Meditate on the difference between being thankful and experiencing gratitude. Being thankful for something can imply a past occurrence. Experiencing gratitude takes us into the present moment. It means finding the tiniest ounce of gratitude in a moment that may be less than ideal, like when we get angry or sad. Reminding ourselves to be grateful in each moment trains us to observe each of these moments as what they really are: lessons. Not good or bad, not up or down, but hot and messy life lessons. Being thankful for our lessons as we’re learning them is harder than being thankful for things we already love.

This month, let’s try to experience gratitude in as many moments as we can. Each time we remember our gratitude practice, it could be in a moment of crisis or frustration. Instead of reacting, let’s pause and invite gratitude into these moments. In this moment of pause is when we dive deep into the self to see what we’re really made of. Can we swallow our pride? Can we choke back harsh words?

In this practice, it’s not about all the things we’ve been given or the people in our lives who do things for us. There is a place to be thankful for these things, but in a way it’s still about us and what we get. Experiencing gratitude in each moment pulls us back into the self to what and how we give back to others. In this way, we can take gratitude and bring it into the day as a practical, pragmatic practice in each moment.

Since you’re here, thank YOU for reading this and I’d love to hear how you practice gratitude on and off the mat! Happy November!

Photo cred: Holliday Cain

Tarot + Yoga = Positive Change!

For about a month, I have been doing tarot readings for online via Fiverr (where an array of services have a base price of five bucks!). I accompany the reading with a short and sweet yoga sequence.

Today, I received another positive review from someone halfway around the world! I love doing these readings and empowering people to make positive change in their lives! I would love to help you with an individual tarot reading. In the reading, we can shed some light on areas of your life where you may feel stuck or are confused about. After that, I give you a personalized yoga practice to help you move past your obstacles!

This is a special project that is close to my heart. Offering these $5 readings is just the beginning. Much bigger and better things are in the works, so stay tuned!

Yoga, tarot, and self-study have changed my life for the better. What if you don’t fancy yoga or tarot? Find another way to be a student of yourself. Listen to your body, your emotions, your dreams, and visions. Don’t push them down. Let them come up and watch magic happen!

Have you implemented tarot into your yoga practice and/or vice versa? Is there another way you engage in self-study? I’d love to hear about it!

Ready for your own reading? Get them while they’re still only $5. Click the image below to see my offerings:

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