I'll start with a confession: I occasionally smoke cigarettes. If you know me this will probably shock you, if you don't and you know my yoga tendencies and health freakishness this will probably shock you as well.
So why do it?
Anxiety. I was blessed with an over-active nervous system which gets me out doing adventurous things... and gives me overwhelming anxiety when I am bound to a desk, bored, lonely or going through a major life change.
At my last Diamond Approach weekend I shared this unusual smokin' tidbit about myself and one of the older ladies in the group (I am the youngest by a generation) said, "why don't you question what the anxiety is about instead of smoking?"
"Well, I smoke a couple of cigarettes every several years so I'm not too worried about it. You don't think I spend every waking moment questioning? That's what I do. 2000 hours of formal training over the last several years means I've got a highly honed skill. Sometimes is best to just let it go and thank the chemicals for their assistance."
As I watch my body rage an autoimmune disorder battle I weep from my tailbone to my toes and through the pores of my skin. Sometimes I compassionately numb the trembling with a cigarette and when I'm lucky with a hug or loving massage. When I experience betrayal I tremble all the way through my Being in the same way, pierced to the core. The double-edged sword is that I no longer have the power to repress or hide from the darkness. This means I experience it and the freedom encapsulated in the process.
The gift in feeling the pain so intensely is that I learn to make decisions that honor me while I yearn for deep, rich connection.
And -
When I watch the sun set or enjoy the company of someone dear to me who is Present as well it is one of the richest blessings you can imagine. I feel the love and beauty permeate through my very Being. I vibrate with the ferocious intensity of Life.
In that I have the opportunity to mirror it back to You. If you have the courage, I invite you to come with me on the road less traveled - you will be more alive and more connected than you could imagine. It's only hard 'cause it's worth it.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Seduced
Seduced
by dance.
Again.
I show up
half-naked,
willing.
Who does the seducing?
Me or She?
Does it matter?
No.
Result the same:
Sweaty puddle of bliss.
by dance.
Again.
I show up
half-naked,
willing.
Who does the seducing?
Me or She?
Does it matter?
No.
Result the same:
Sweaty puddle of bliss.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Socially Acceptable Survivor
At an event tonight I saw a woman wearing a "race for the cure" t-shirt with "survivor" proudly displayed along the side. It struck me as odd that some survivor-ship is socially acceptable and other is not. For example if I wore a "domestic violence and sexual assault survivor" shirt in pretty pink or pale blue how would that be received? I imagine it would make people uncomfortable. Surviving violence is no less heroic than surviving cancer yet somehow carries more shame.
Maybe the commercialization of pink ribbons for breast cancer makes it socially acceptable, maybe because the fight of cancer is against nature not man so "united we stand". I would love for someone working in the DV/SA field to commercialize a blue cracked egg that lives in the social consciousness to symbolize the incredible courage and strength it takes to reclaim power after violence.
Admittedly I thankfully have not had to face the battle of breast cancer in my body so I don't know how they compare for sure... I lost one of my dearest friends, the woman who introduced me to Yoga, Patricia Arters, to breast cancer in my mid-20's, the quick decay from vibrant, feisty, strong woman to tired bones was humbling. Her passing precipitated huge changes in my life, it was an inspiration to live more fully. This invitation required divorcing her son. Life has a funny way of opening.
In the midst of my current opening I stand for equal survivor-ship rights. Will you stand with me?
image credits: the eggs are percussion instruments http://b2b.coastmusic.com/ the shirt race for the cure
Maybe the commercialization of pink ribbons for breast cancer makes it socially acceptable, maybe because the fight of cancer is against nature not man so "united we stand". I would love for someone working in the DV/SA field to commercialize a blue cracked egg that lives in the social consciousness to symbolize the incredible courage and strength it takes to reclaim power after violence.
Admittedly I thankfully have not had to face the battle of breast cancer in my body so I don't know how they compare for sure... I lost one of my dearest friends, the woman who introduced me to Yoga, Patricia Arters, to breast cancer in my mid-20's, the quick decay from vibrant, feisty, strong woman to tired bones was humbling. Her passing precipitated huge changes in my life, it was an inspiration to live more fully. This invitation required divorcing her son. Life has a funny way of opening.
In the midst of my current opening I stand for equal survivor-ship rights. Will you stand with me?
image credits: the eggs are percussion instruments http://b2b.coastmusic.com/ the shirt race for the cure
Friday, April 1, 2011
Sex is a Journey not a Destination
Curiously, I peek my head back into the world of dating after a therapeutic reprieve. Interesting world at my door step.
I took to a party what I thought was a simple guideline for meeting people: a decent, healthy human being who turns me on and is available. Not such an easy bill to fill after all. The evening was filled with fun interactions, interesting conversations and DANCING! As the party wound down a kid a decade my junior came into a conversation a friend and I were having about crazy people being good in bed and impossible in relationships. Now, I am experimental and adventurous by nature... and open and expressive. From wild he interpreted easy. On the dance floor he latched on to me and didn't take the hint when I clearly backed away every time he came close. Finally when he physically tried to draw me close to him I pushed back with "I am independent and need a hell of a lot of space" (especially when dancing). By his subsequent behavior (and sharply honed intuition) I knew he expected to come home with me. WTF? I don't know how wild translated in his head to assuming he had rights... and I'm kind of pissed about it, still.
wild does not mean easy
I embrace my wild side. Tattoos turn me on. I relish time with those who have not fully tamed their inner feral animals. The irrational spark of wild unbridled passion ignites a hunger in me. I am experimental and adventurous by nature. This helps push my unique evolutionary envelope. Adventurous experiments also mean I don't follow conventional rules for sexual behavior. That doesn't mean I am easy, in fact I am fucking picky... in my own unique and unconventional way.
More than once when sharing the story of a road less traveled someone (not particularly interesting, sexy, adventurous or wild) hearing that story has tried to kiss, grope or fondle me. I can see how wild would spark desire. After all, I know that feeling myself. What I can't wrap my head around is how they assume that because I push the envelope, I am there for the taking.
I can't entirely blame the guys, I march to the beat of my own drummer, probably not on this planet. I am sure they are expecting something else. Several years ago I did a lot of Muay Thai kick-boxing. Punching was a natural component in my muscle memory. Hours upon hours of practice brought this home. My Muay Thai career started as a women's self-defense workshop through my volunteer work as a advocate for survivors of domestic and sexual violence. I enjoyed the workshop so much I continued training at the facility that hosted the event. Several months into training I was dancing with a girlfriend at a club. I felt unknown hands behind me on my hips. My next memory was drawing my fist back after punching him squarely in the chest. His hands were raised to the side saying "don't hurt me." Another experience in his life taught him this was acceptable behavior, hopefully I rewired a little in his brain.
I still can't make the connection why Joe Shmoe thinks I would have any interest in something so utterly mundane as a random hook-up just 'cause they are there. I think the underlying principle for them is sex, for me it is exciting.
sex should be exciting
Life should be exciting. If it doesn't turn you on why do it (this principle is carrying over into more areas of my life)? The journey is the key. Sex doesn't have to be a sex circus - over rated. It is all about the journey, not the destination. There MUST be passion, desire, thrill, tenderness, riding waves of energy together. There has to be connection. Roaming lips, roaming hands, roaming exploration. When I come to sex I am looking for a shared journey, I can get the destination on my own. What I need a partner for is the surprise, opening new doors of awareness, revealing new things about myself, about how I relate, about what turns me on... in that moment. It changes, frequently. That's part of the thrill of the journey. Maybe that's why I have liked sex with crazy people - there is always an unknown. In the most prominent such relationship, on and off for several years, in my life there were a few things broken - including furniture and my heart. I think this was Leonard Cohen's "there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." That crack was widened by a betrayal that graciously ended the relationship.
nothing kills passion like betrayal
enough said... no matter the nature of the relationship, honor it passion flows in waves, betray it game over. This can be romantic relationship, friendships or working relationships. Same with yoga practice - if you betray the body, pushing it too far it breaks down. Translated equally to life.
Honor connection, honor life and enjoy good sex.
I took to a party what I thought was a simple guideline for meeting people: a decent, healthy human being who turns me on and is available. Not such an easy bill to fill after all. The evening was filled with fun interactions, interesting conversations and DANCING! As the party wound down a kid a decade my junior came into a conversation a friend and I were having about crazy people being good in bed and impossible in relationships. Now, I am experimental and adventurous by nature... and open and expressive. From wild he interpreted easy. On the dance floor he latched on to me and didn't take the hint when I clearly backed away every time he came close. Finally when he physically tried to draw me close to him I pushed back with "I am independent and need a hell of a lot of space" (especially when dancing). By his subsequent behavior (and sharply honed intuition) I knew he expected to come home with me. WTF? I don't know how wild translated in his head to assuming he had rights... and I'm kind of pissed about it, still.
wild does not mean easy
I embrace my wild side. Tattoos turn me on. I relish time with those who have not fully tamed their inner feral animals. The irrational spark of wild unbridled passion ignites a hunger in me. I am experimental and adventurous by nature. This helps push my unique evolutionary envelope. Adventurous experiments also mean I don't follow conventional rules for sexual behavior. That doesn't mean I am easy, in fact I am fucking picky... in my own unique and unconventional way.
More than once when sharing the story of a road less traveled someone (not particularly interesting, sexy, adventurous or wild) hearing that story has tried to kiss, grope or fondle me. I can see how wild would spark desire. After all, I know that feeling myself. What I can't wrap my head around is how they assume that because I push the envelope, I am there for the taking.
I can't entirely blame the guys, I march to the beat of my own drummer, probably not on this planet. I am sure they are expecting something else. Several years ago I did a lot of Muay Thai kick-boxing. Punching was a natural component in my muscle memory. Hours upon hours of practice brought this home. My Muay Thai career started as a women's self-defense workshop through my volunteer work as a advocate for survivors of domestic and sexual violence. I enjoyed the workshop so much I continued training at the facility that hosted the event. Several months into training I was dancing with a girlfriend at a club. I felt unknown hands behind me on my hips. My next memory was drawing my fist back after punching him squarely in the chest. His hands were raised to the side saying "don't hurt me." Another experience in his life taught him this was acceptable behavior, hopefully I rewired a little in his brain.
I still can't make the connection why Joe Shmoe thinks I would have any interest in something so utterly mundane as a random hook-up just 'cause they are there. I think the underlying principle for them is sex, for me it is exciting.
sex should be exciting
Life should be exciting. If it doesn't turn you on why do it (this principle is carrying over into more areas of my life)? The journey is the key. Sex doesn't have to be a sex circus - over rated. It is all about the journey, not the destination. There MUST be passion, desire, thrill, tenderness, riding waves of energy together. There has to be connection. Roaming lips, roaming hands, roaming exploration. When I come to sex I am looking for a shared journey, I can get the destination on my own. What I need a partner for is the surprise, opening new doors of awareness, revealing new things about myself, about how I relate, about what turns me on... in that moment. It changes, frequently. That's part of the thrill of the journey. Maybe that's why I have liked sex with crazy people - there is always an unknown. In the most prominent such relationship, on and off for several years, in my life there were a few things broken - including furniture and my heart. I think this was Leonard Cohen's "there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." That crack was widened by a betrayal that graciously ended the relationship.
nothing kills passion like betrayal
enough said... no matter the nature of the relationship, honor it passion flows in waves, betray it game over. This can be romantic relationship, friendships or working relationships. Same with yoga practice - if you betray the body, pushing it too far it breaks down. Translated equally to life.
Honor connection, honor life and enjoy good sex.
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