The past weeks have been difficult for me.
I’ve felt a little lost, alone, down. I’m usually quite focused, I’ve been scattered.
I’ve been thinking about where I’m going in a way that’s not directed or clear.
I’ve been procrastinatory.
My energy has been up and down.
Writing has been really hard, not flowing.
I’ve cancelled some workshops, they haven’t felt right.
I’ve been sad.
And something so interesting has emerged.
I’ve spoken about it a little with people I’m working with on healing and growth journeys.
It’s about what else there is, what else there is in the space, in the moment, in the experience.
Much of my work is, or begins with sexuality, the relationship we have with our sexuality is, of course, a large part of this. This relationship forms the framework of the journey, it gives it a context, a place to live in.
And more and more I see the importance of the context.
Our sexuality is not in a vacuum, as many of us express it that way. Our sexuality is not in a little box that we bring out in very specific circumstances and use, then put away again.
Our genitals are not separate for the rest of who we are: bodies, minds, hearts and energy. Everything is connected, entwined, dancing, or not, talking, or not, listening, or not, with each other.
Last week I did a rope workshop facilitated by a friend in Australia.
It was a very non-traditional approach, that wasn’t really about tying, knots, positions etc, which is often quite technical.
This was about the energy of the rope, using the rope as a communication, as a sensual element, as part of the intention and sensuality of the experience, as an energy.
As with all things I learn I couldn’t wait to try it and personalize it, see how it worked, where it could go, what the possibilities were.
Our sexuality is a guide, a teacher, a path of personal enquiry, a way to experience energy, a way to access deep states of consciousness, a way to become incredibly intimate with ourselves, a place to become aware of many of our patterns, a way to get to know, explore and experience our bodies, our hearts.
It’s a way for us to heal, so many things, that have nothing to do with sex, as well as sex.
It’s a way to find stillness, the inner quiet that connects us to the deepest parts of ourselves.
It can take us to a meditative state.
It can give us access to creative energy and inspiration.
And it offers us pleasure, deep, limitless pleasure.
This is my heart
And I was never taught the mineness of it
We talk about all the different kinds of orgasms women, and men, can experience.
Many people I, and I’m sure many other practitioners, work with, come to learn how to have these different experiences.
In all of these orgasms there is something that we don’t always mention, and it’s an important experience, for men and women.
It’s also confusing because orgasm is supposed to be about pleasure.
Yoni or Lingam Meditation of Gazing is looking with, through, the eyes of your heart.
It’s a meditation on loving, accepting, acknowledging, in the giving and in the receiving.
It’s a meditation on presence, sexual presence, heart presence, body presence.
It’s a meditation where we bring our heart into our gaze, where the vision within the vision, is one of love.
It’s a meditation where we open ourselves to receive, to be seen.
There is such power, such possibility, in one breath.
In the world of pleasure we’re often looking for more.
More feeling, more sensation, more experiences, more technique, more partners, more toys…
Most of these things are external, they’re outside of us. And they’re connected to something which is one of the most limiting and contractive things we do.
We live in a society that’s constantly chasing.
Money, pleasure, things, experiences, orgasms, people, chasing.