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I work mostly in the field of sexual healing. I also facilitate workshops and retreats, and present a weekly radio show.
I hear people’s stories, our stories.
Our sexual stories.
They’re the stories of our bodies, of our hearts, of our genitals. They’re the stories of our lives.
They’re the stories of our families, our tribes, our nations, our religions.
They’re the stories of our struggle against the expectations of others in order for us to be who we are.
They’re the stories of our search for freedom.
They’re the stories of pain, sometimes the stories of the depths of human depravity, of acts that horrify our very core.
They’re the stories of rising from this hurt, and sometimes not.
They’re the stories of healing and releasing, of life renewed.
They’re the stories of adventures, explorers, discoverers, who have walked paths deep within themselves.
They’re the stories of the myriad paths of pleasure, from gormandizing to esoteric subtleties.
They’re the stories of beauty, laughter, tears and quiet whispers.
They’re the stories of love and desire, of fulfillment and frustration.
They’re the stories of anger and loneliness, of those who wander in the dark of silence.
They’re the stories of loss and discovery.
They’re the stories of love, of light, of possibility.
They’re our stories, yours and mine.
And in their humanness, they’re beautiful.
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