51. Country Lovin’, Self Pleasuring and an Old Flame

Life in the country is cute.  Something happened to me during my week away that made me feel like I had been transported into “Little House on the Prairie”.  In a cute floral frock.  I believe it’s called sharing.

On my first day there my neighbor (also caretaker of the 8 acres we were all sharing) waltzed up to my place with a little tub of hot miso soup.  What a damned cutie.  I don’t know about you guys but where I am from, neighbors bringing you cute little warm things in tubs for dinner is definitely something out of a movie.  Well, I was so moved by his loving gesture that a few nights later, I told him I would be making a curry and asked if he would like to partake.  Damned straight he would.  He aint no fool.

So with pumpkin, spinach and basil, fresh from the garden, I smashed my way into exotic curry bliss.  He even went down and picked me a little choko to throw in too.  And we ate it together on the outdoor bench at sunset, overlooking the rolling hills.  The next day he hit me with some bananas fresh from the tree, ripe and ready to munch.  Well, this overwhelmed me with love and made me channel my inner Better Crocker/house wife/ cooking show legend and, acting as though I had done it a thousand times before I started throwing ingredients together into a frikken banana delight.

I would like to note here that it is crucial to not get overly attached to outcomes in these processes.  In theory I was making banana bread.  What resulted was the best damned banana pudding you have ever had the pleasure to throw down.  Hot and crunchy on top and warm and gooey below.  Overwhelmingly proud with my new identity as country kitchen wizard, I was keen to share my goods with my new giving comrade.  Well, he was ready to go and slammed his down with double thickened cream.  (As I said, he aint no fool!!!) and then he gave me some of his salmon quiche cooked in his wood pizza oven.

The point is that I personally had forgotten the simple heart opening joy of sharing things with no expectation with relative strangers, just because it feels good.  I had forgotten that that is actually our nature, who we are and that our souls delight in the simple pleasure of gentle unattached kindness.

I should also mention here that the last David Deida tantra book I read was called “The Enlightened Sex Manual” and sweet mother of God, I am in quiet awe as to what may unfold in my future love life as a result of reading this puppy.  If I may, a note on masturbation: 🙂

I am a fan of the orgasm.  And, I thought that I had a few clues about my body, and self pleasuring at the age of 38.  But I did not know the transformational and mind blowing joy available when one opens to … breathing.  I don’t mean deep breathing.  I mean, breathing energy through the roof of your head, down the front of your body and into your groin and then exhaling it by shooting it up your spine back into your head whilst pulling up your pelvic floor muscles.  The idea is that you breathe in and out through your nose, keeping your tongue lightly on the roof of your mouth and that you continue this rhythmically, building energy inside your body.  The aim is to transform the energy of an orgasm from happening only in your genitals and instead pull it up through your spine and to shoot it through your body and into your brain.

Well this all sounds like a good theory until you try it and then go “Sweet baby Jesus!  Has all this pleasure been available to me all along?”  I felt like I had just discovered I’d been eating generic brand cookies when I could have been having the top shelf double fudge variety with fresh hand made swiss chocolate chunks, hand rolled by Belgian monks!!  Also, it made my regular masturbation orgasms seem like a toddler tottering in on mummas heels.  Clumsy, a little awkward and as clueless as a gazelle playing Pictionary.  This new version felt like I was some damned vixen/ love maiden totally opening up to whole new concepts of pleasure.  Light bursting through my body, filling me completely.  Energy soaring out of me in union with all.  And this was on my second try, with what he called a level one orgasm. God fucking help me.

So in this case, my friends, do try this bad boy out at home and discover the sweet difference for yourself.  For guys, I will note here that David Deida says the idea is to actually not ejaculate but to build the energy and then shoot it up your body in the same way.  He reckons this can take some retraining (maybe 1-4 months) but when relearned, oh baby, oh baby!  Then he reckons guys simply need to ejaculate about once a month or so to rebalance their system.

As for me, I am now staying with a ‘friend’ for about 10 days.  I would like to point out that this is a ‘friend’ that I have previously kissed, very passionately, for hours, and was on the way to falling in love with several years ago before he ran in fear of what we could become.  And it has taken us time to build up to our now kinda steady friendship again (with a small semi trailer load of unspoken stuff about attraction and the fact that we have both grabbed one another in very friendly ways).

I will say this:  If you want a solid challenge, read 5 tantra books and then move in with someone that you have repeatedly though about fucking, someone whose kisses were so sweet that they made you groan out loud.  And commit to opening opening opening rather than shutting up like a sad vault.  So far, two nights in, it’s all very PG.  Chatting, eating chocolate, big hugs.  I am not prepared to bet my life that the rating will stay this way after 10 days.  We shall see…

 

50. I am a David Deida Whore!

Apparently things happen when you decide to rent a cute little cottage in the country for a week.  Firstly, I would like to note that apparently this country air makes you channel Betty Crocker because as we speak, I am baking.  My neighbor gave me a shit load of bananas and I am currently making some bullshit self concocted version of banana cake.  In my country oven on the porch.  I am also on my fifth David Deida tantra book in as many days, but who’s counting? 🙂

Yep… I have participated in four tantra workshops but have never actually read this home boys books.  Holy shit, talk about confronting.  True.  Beautiful.  Startling.  Exposing.  Just about any adjective that you would like to insert will probably do here.  This man is all about breaking the mould.  And it is making me reel with the awareness of the games I’ve been playing all my life.  To save you 5 days in the country inhaling David Deida books whilst cooking dodgy banana bread, I will summarise:

Basically he says that we all have either a masculine or feminine essence, whether male female, heterosexual or homosexual.  Most women are feminine in their sexual essence and most men are masculine.  Feminine is all about surrender, about shining light, about being taken, being sensual and juicy.  Masculine essence is about standing strong in truth, with purpose and claiming your woman with your integrity and love.

Now considering that I met my last serious partner at a tantra workshop, I would like to say that I have definitely had a taste of this.  This whole losing your self in the overwhelming essence of falling into feminine softness and letting myself be ravished by the incredible strength of manhood.  Yum.  Better than my banana cake.

But what I realized is that despite my truth being all soft and gushy and lovey just like 80% of women, I am a hard arse.  Bless J.  Basically as a child I was told that I was smart but not pretty, so I think that I just accepted as my fate that I would have to use my charm, wit and other intellectual forces to seduce since I wasn’t gonna cut it with my little outer shell.  Unfortunately what I have come to realize is that I am confronted by women preening and cooing, slapping out cleavage and big thigh hunks like a butcher’s special.  And I judge these Goddesses.  I am quietly enraged by their efforts (and successes) at collecting the booty at the end of the night when all that my wit and chit chat has got me is a few more man friends who think I’m tops but don’t want to fuck me.  Or the man boys maybe do cos I am more of a man than they are.  Bless them too.  But really, in short:  I’m a confounded fucking mess!

This awareness hit me like a big slap across the face with tantra book number 4.  After about 6 hundred pages of repeated messages, it finally got through:  Yes, a large part of me has become masculine.  I am organized.  I can get shit done.  I know what I want.  I’m not so good at surrendering control.  But it doesn’t mean that I like it that way.  It finally all clicked as to why I feel so traumatized about not being fully on track with my career:  Because a huge part of me has become a damned man and for men, their purpose is paramount according to Lover Boy (aka David Deida).

Deida reckons that men need to be on purpose to feel free.  What they want most is freedom.  What women want most is to express their light.  But I’m kind of all fucked up and now I want both!  Sweet baby Jesus.  If I could grow my own penis I would be right as reigns.  But instead I’m left in this lovey dovey heart space where I desperately need to feel on purpose, continually terrified of joining the rat race, lest it mean I once again lose my freedom.

So what to do with all this mess?  Excellent question!  Thank fuck Lover Boy has a solution.  Apparently I have to open.  Open, open, open.  Like a 7 Eleven that doesn’t even shut for Christmas.  That open.  Like one where they don’t even need a key cos the fucker is never gonna close.  That open. To quote the home boy:

“You can open as love and live as love, even though you are not fully received by those you love.  You can open as infinity and offer your deepest truth, even though your gifts may be refused by those you want to serve.  You can live as openness even though your daily life may seem tawdry in light of your heart’s deepest shine.

“You are not here to transform the world and create love on earth.  In truth, you aren’t here.  You are openness.  Abide as openness, live as love and appear as limits.  You really have no choice.”  Blue Truth, p 40

I can safely share with you dear ones that this was like another dirty wet fish across the face for me.  He is all about simply owning it all, fully.  When fully expressed, even anger is love, when open and from the heart.  Not when it is stored as toxic waste and then used as repugnant fuel.  But all is love if fully felt in a space of heart openness.

I, like many humans I know and love are all about the shut down.  Shut down from pain.  Protect.  Reserve your energies.  Stay safe.  And then do do do things to make me feel better.  Or to try to make me feel better.  But what I notice is that when I feel most amazing and most connected is when I fully surrender into this magnificent feminine light or ecstasy.  Yes sometimes, that involves incredible hours of heart connected, sensually exploding love making.  But it can also happen when I am enraptured with birds in flight, dancing around me or in awe at the love that I see around me in the hearts of people every where.  It is often when I am out of my head and deep in my heart, feeling, being and opening to the incredible miracle of it all.  Open open open.

I had never really made the connection and have been trying to work out why my forced ‘doing’ just doesn’t really feel right.  It often feels stifled and unnatural and then I get all guilty thinking I’m just a lazy slacker.  But maybe this is my inner voice telling me to tread softly with my sweet self and to find my own way to dance in this strange thing called life.  Maybe my spirit is begging me to remember it’s sweet soft feminine essence and that push energy is as natural for me as growing two hairy ball sacks.

Despite my enlightened moments of bliss, there is this part of me that keeps thinking that there is somewhere to get and that with enough work or focus, I can create enough satisfaction to finally… breathe.  And then I think that with this breath, with this peace, I will find joy.  More joy than the joy of my everyday moments.  But there is no doing that can bring me the peace I seek.  As he says:

“Waiting for love or doing anything to be loved is as fruitless as a fish swimming in the hope of getting wet.  Already love is who you are.  Love is that which is living your life, breathing your breath, moving your body.” Blue Truth P108

In a space of doubt or closing, no doing can lead to love or peace.  In fact, I’m starting to think that maybe nothing good at all can come by living life in a safe emotional vault.

And so, I surrender my lock and keys.  I get a sledge hammer and smash the lock to pieces.  Really, what’s the point of all this safety anyway?  Where has it gotten me?  Only by crawling out into the wild woods of an open life is there anything worth living for.  As he says it is all about giving our gifts and receiving those of others.  A dance.  A magical exchange of light.  But I can only give my gifts in ways that truly serve my essence.  I feel that this is truly stepping into a new way for me.  No business plan.  No lists.  Some kind of wild flurry of synchronicity and shamanic explosive forces coming together as the sacredness of life itself.  So now, I dance in its ashes like the wild woman I am.

And I will share my gifts not because I’m tired or scared or have no other choice.  But because only by sharing my gifts can I finally open to all that I am.  Open open open.  I surrender holding back and finally open my heart, my gifts and my sensual feminine ecstacy to the world.