My Own Fodder

Inspiration for writing comes with a cost.  I become my own fodder.  And the story of my life unfolds.  On one hand, I'm a messed up, emotionally immature person just like everyone else.  A flawed human being trying to find my way.  On the other hand, I have my models that I emulate.  My heroes that I aspire to follow.  The ones that serve others with open-hearted gracefulness.  The creative, successful, happy ones with love that sorta oozes out of them.  I glean from each one, picking and choosing the qualities that serve me best.  I copy them.  I pretend.  I fake it until I make it.  And over the years,  I've found that I have made it in some ways, that I've arrived--if not setting any records, I've at least crossed the finish line in a respectable time.  I've discovered that in some things, I'm my own best model, that some of what I've learned has become second nature, that I've gained a fair amount of emotional maturity and wisdom myself.  And with this, I know how little I know.  And I know how I'll never really "get there".  This is a life long journey. 

Here's the fodder for this writing. Recently I experienced a trigger that set off some post traumatic stress (PTS).  I panicked.  I blew things out of proportion.  I listened to the stories my wounded ego was telling me.  I felt the emotions that had been released in my body.  I didn't really believe the stories but I still laid around with my feelings hurt, feeling depressed and sorry for myself.  To top it all off, I was embarrassed.  I'll be 56 years old in one week and experiencing these uncomfortable emotional gyrations annoyed me.  I felt silly--that at my age I should be over having these these ridiculous reactions.  I should be more mature.  More enlightened.  And I knew it would all pass soon and I would be relieved of my ego running amok, but soon wasn't soon enough. 

The original trigger was Lover Who Is My Lover not wanting to spend time with me because he was too tired.  I understood his tiredness was legitimate, and regardless, he certainly didn't owe it to me, to choose to spend time with me in that moment.  But my feelings were still hurt.  After all, I was exhausted myself and I still wanted to spend time with him.  But underlying my disappointment that he wasn't giving me what I wanted, was another tender spot, which his denial to meet my needs of the moment uncovered. 

There was a large gathering of woman that I had not been invited to.  Many of my women friends were there and I was not.  This particular gathering has been going on for many years and I have never attended.  Over the years, I had been invited several times but it just never worked for me to go.  Eventually the invites stopped coming and I'm not sure whether my lack of participation offended the hostess or more likely, I'm simply not in her mind much as she is a person I seldom run into.  It's probably a bit of both.  Whatever the case may be, it's never been something I've thought too much about, it wasn't a big deal to me...until recently, when I got the inkling that I wanted to be a part of this gathering. The obvious problem is, I haven't been invited.

One thing that is so ridiculous is that I'm so not left out.  I have an abundance of friends and I'm invited to more gatherings and parties than I can reasonably attend.  I really have the good fortune to get to pick and choose between many options.  My life is abundant with friends, gatherings, and being a part of.  I'm included and loved.  It's not like I'm sitting at home alone, bored.  Ha.  I was the other night!

I mentioned PTS and sometimes it kicks in.  There have been times in my life when more often than not, I was sitting alone at home, bored.  As a young girl this happened to me a lot.  I was alone and felt friendless much of the time.  I was often left out.  I had a fairly sad childhood and I was emotionally neglected.  I had an over abundance of unmet childhood needs.  So this trigger happened and I was overly upset.  I knew I was experiencing PTS and that my reaction outweighed the circumstance but there is was and no reasoning with the emotions I was feeling.  I felt abandoned and that was that.

So I sat with it.  I slept with it.  And I woke up with a lingering, depressed sense of it.  And then Lover Who Is My Lover called and we talked for a few minutes and I noticed it was gone.  I didn't tell him what I had been experiencing because it felt silly, my truth of the moment that wasn't true at all.  Besides, it's awkward to talk about those things on the phone sometimes.

But later in the day I thought that I should share this with him, allow myself to be vulnerable and tell  him about my silliness and the role he played as my trigger.  Part of me found it necessary to expose myself because I'm hesitant to do so.  I have a little PTS around telling him my emotions and causing him stress with my drama.  We have a little past here...but I don't want to buy into my fear of telling him the truth.  I want him to know me as I am, even though it sometimes scares me to reveal myself.  So I wrote him and told him my wounded ego story.  And he hasn't responded back yet.  And so now I notice that fear of self exposure, about being an imperfect person with flaws and PTS.  Well, welcome to the human race.  Welcome to me, Lover Who Is My Lover.

Boundaries Based on Lies

Tonight Pema and I gave our first talk in a monthly series of Conscious Relationships, Conscious Sex talks called Sexuality as a Spiritual Path.  I think it went very well.  Twelve people showed up, 8 women and 4 men.  Today I read from a book called, The Enlightenment Imperative, given to me by my friend Lena.  It's written by, The Syntropy Group and edited by Mary Beth Brangun & James Heddle.  It's my opinion that the book isn't very well written.  The words are static and there is no fluidity to the reading.  When I finish with a short paragraph, I never know what I've read.  I have to back track and break it down.  But the information is good.  I like what they say about sexual maturity as "...an attitudinal maturation that recognizes and affirms the many forms that loving, openhearted, mutually affirming, and nurturing relationships can take."  I will write more on this later but for tonight I'm tired and need to curl up next to my husband and sleep.  And dream.

I worked on my Solstice Image Box some more tonight and added my second image.  It's an old Eastern Indian art picture of Radha Krsna that I found in my storage that I planned on burning in the solstice fire.  But then the image called to me, so I saved it.  Tonight, after the talk it seemed even more fitting, representing my passion for all that polyamory means to me--an opportunity for transcending the constraints of my wounded ego, boundaries of jealousy and possessiveness I have built, based on lies.  This divine couple represent celebration of the erotic and the cultivation of love, open-heartedness, kindness, compassion, and the shared pleasure of lovers which is the foundation of spiritual evolution.

Celebrating Summer Solstice with Squirrel

Yesterday, part of my summer solstice celebration was cleaning out my storage unit.  I sorted through a lot of clutter in the heat of the day and found much to give away--actually, I've decided to have a yard sale and add the proceeds to my traveling fund.  My passport is neatly tucked away and my accounts are growing.  This process of digging in and sorting through, felt very cleansing and I found a few objects to use in the little little summer solstice celebration I did with Lover Who Is My Lover's wife.  B. made up a lovely altar and we created some ritual.  It was very nice.  I made an image box for the year--my plan is to add an image each day of the year.  While digging through my storage I found a box full of old tarot decks and animal medicine cards.  As I was looking at the pictures I resonated with the squirrel card and knew instantly that Squirrel was my image of the day.

Squirrel energy is a great gift.  It is about gathering and planning ahead, being prepared.  It's about loving myself enough to gather the goods that will meet my needs in the times ahead.  It's about honoring the future by readying myself for change in the present.

Squirrel energy is also about lightening my load of the many possessions that no longer serve me.  It's about getting rid of clutter.  Not only the clutter in my storage unit but also the clutter in my body and mind.  There is a delicate balance to gathering.  Collecting what is most valuable to me currently while preparing for my future and to keep the energy of what I'm gathering circulating so I'm not hoarding.

One valuable lesson from squirrel is about preparing for anything by observing the obvious.  It's about accepting reality as it is, and responding to what life offers me.  It's about protecting what I gather and keeping it in the safest place--an uncluttered mind and heart.  It's about gathering what is most valuable--wisdom and caring, peace and love.

Credit is due to Jamie Sams & David Carson, who wrote, and Angela C. Werneke who illustrated, Medicine Cards--The Discovery Of Power Through The Ways Of Animals, for these squirrel ponderings, as I've basically paraphrased what they have written.  Here's a direct quote, a poem from the book:

Squirrel...
You have gathered
Nuts by the score,
Exactly predicting
If you'll need more.

Teach me to take
No more than I need.
Trusting Great Mystery
To harvest the seed.

My Gogo

Today is my Gogo's birthday. She is 34 years old. Happy Birthday daughter. I hope this year brings you an abundance of all good things.

Peace and love.

Govinda Jaya was born June 17, 1976. She was a bi-centennial baby.  She was my second child, born at home with her father, David, and her older brother, Brandyn in attendance.  We called Brandyn, Damodara at the time.  The name means, he who is bound by the ropes of love.  He was four and a half years old when he saw his sister be born.

Govinda's name came to us during my pregnancy when we were listening to some devotional music.  It was the Hindu chant, Govinda Jaya Jaya, Gopal Jaya Jaya.  Radha Ramanahari, Govinda Jaya Jaya, which means:  All glories to Govinda (Krsna).  All gories to Gopal (Krsna).  All glories to Hari (Krsna) who is Radha's (foremost gopi--cowherd girl, girlfriend, from Vrndavan) lover.  Inspired by the music,  my friend Debi, who was living with us at the time said "Govinda Jaya"  that's a good name for the baby!  I immediately agreed, whatever gender.

Govinda Jaya was born at approximately 7:00 in the evening.  We forgot to look at clock immediately, obviously caught up in the moment.  She was born en-caul, with the amniotic sac still intact, but after birthing a big bubble of the sac, we popped it.  I had hear that being born with the amniotic sac still intact, encaul, was an auspicious sign but I've since learned that being born en-caul is different than being born with a caul (born a caulbearer child) which is considered significant and auspicious in several ways.

My labia was torn during the birth of her head and it was a deep tear, way up close to my clit.  I never had it sewn up.  The only way I could pee without excruciating pain for several weeks was by getting into a bathtub full of water, which diluted my urine enough so as to diffuse the sting.

I nursed her for awhile and then an hour or two after she was born she had her first bath, totally submerged into a full bathtub of water.  Govinda never cried at birth but her first cry came when she was removed from her bathwater.  She had a bath nearly everyday and everyday this was the only time she ever cried.

It was a sweet birth.  Quiet.  Peaceful.  Our home and family was full of love.  For a while.

Happy Birthday love you to Govinda Jaya Devi Dasi.

Love,  Mom

Have Mercy

All this jealous energy! Goodness. Breathing. It's good. Yes. I ask for this, right? It brings to me blog. That's good. Jealousy inspiring my writing I see. Okay.

He asked her if she wanted to be his lover? I think that's what he said--or meant?

Who wouldn't want to be her lover? She is beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Sweet. Salty. And those breasts. Nice body. I like her. A. Lot.

And then his dream. Hummm.

But then right after he reveals all this he tells me he doesn't know if he'll have time for me this weekend.

Okay.

Fuck.

All is good.

But sometimes I feel insecure. Just want to know I'm loved.

But then, I know that.

No doubt.

Just want to know he's in love.

With me.

Don't know that.

Maybe nothing to know.

Lord. Have mercy on me.

Pleasure--by Shewhobehot's Disciple

I was christened with the name SheWhoBeHot by Rob Brezsny. My friend wrote this in 2002.

I got asked to write about pleasure, so being a thorough person, I did lots of research on the subject by talking about, dreaming about, fantasizing about and making pleasure with a variety of partners in order to do justice to the topic. What is pleasure? It can be so clear; at moments it's an excruciating ache of desire, the wanting of someone that is so potent I can do nothing but move restlessly about until I am with him. To be near a man, to feel wanted, to see his eyes soften as he looks at my body, that is a delicious pleasure. There are other times where I can't connect--the timing is off. I can't find my own or another's rhythm and no matter what I think I want it isn't going to happen. This is rare and usually linked to tiredness or having something on my mind that I can't express yet.

One of my lovers said to me that nothing beats his fantasies; we were a part of a foursome at the time, and we were all telling each other, during our more cogent moments, about what turned us one. I was taking sips of water from a glass he was holding for me and with my mouth full and wet, was lovingly and slowly sucking his cock, so go figure. He must have very potent fantasies. In fairness, I know that there are moments when I am pleasuring myself that my visions of what I want to have happen to my body are so specific and fully imagined that I am not sure that a real person could measure up.

Several weeks ago I was at an event where I saw another lover--it was his birthday and I hadn't had the time to find a gift for him, so as I kissed him hello, amidst the streams of people coming into the bar, I whispered to him that I hadn't gotten him a card or present so he'd just have to settle for a blow job later. I smiled sweetly, and spent the rest of the evening in a heightened state of pleasurable anticipation. He was in the band we were all gathered to dance to; and there were moments where I was able to catch his eye and mouth a silent reminder not to forget his present. He would flush and grin and I would dance away deeply excited and happy to be offering such a great guy something racy and hot and sexy.

I have the very good fortune to be in a triad with my best friend and her husband. I love them both very much. My love for them is not predicated on being physical lovers, rather it has to do with the way that we hold each other's spiritual and emotional evolution as the most dear and precious thing. I have felt blessed to be able to witness sexual love between the people I love best in the world. I feel that I have been in the presence of God and Goddess, sun and moon, earth and rain at the moment they join and become one. I have watched their faces innumerable times as they reach orgasm, and seen the beautiful vulnerability wash across their features like the shadows of clouds racing across a field. I have had the experience of being on top of a man that I adore, riding him as hard as I can and gazing into the eyes of my best friend while she watches me dissolve into my own orgasm, smiling at me and urging me on. Moments where I have been so opened, where I have been torn apart by what I need; when I am speaking unspeakable words because my body is insatiable and needs to be bruised and pounded and bitten and ravaged all in front of two people, not one. Expressing my sexuality in the context of including the feelings and gazes of a third and sometimes fourth person has changed me permanently. I have grown so aware of the ways that I have judged myself. Where I have felt undeserving of pleasure in the past because I was not thin enough or tall enough or tan enough or pretty in the right way. I know now that all of my fears are projections. It is hard to hang onto feeling insecure for long when there is more than one other person present who is happy for my pleasure and who is expanding too because of it. Something gave way in me and I am dedicated to my pleasure in ways that I did not think were possible in the past.

I was with a lover not long ago, lying under him on his bed, both of us fully clothed, and kissing deeply. We were playing a repeating game, like we were in high school and not going to get naked and fuck. Kissing him took on a mythic quality, how much sexual energy can be channeled into the mouth from the dull shock of genitals muffled by layers of cloth. The feeling of my own flesh contained and constrained by denim and seams made me feel crazed with lust. At that moment he looked at me not knowing what do do with all the energy either. I don't know what it was but he grabbed my throat with one hand, really hard so that I could not breath. I was staring at him as well, and I knew even as my body wanted to respond with panic that I was not in danger. I felt overwhelming trust and in that second of knowing how deeply I trusted him, I had the most explosive orgasm. My body was entirely in his keeping--there was no where to go but into ecstasy. I loved that feeling of abandoning myself to waves of love, the electric energetic language that I have always known how to speak except I can only really remember how at certain moments of my life.

I am on a quest. I want to have sex with friends. I love knowing that someone I am with likes me and opens to the joy of being pleased by me because I like them and want them to be happy. My heart is open and my request of those I undress for and play with is so simple. That they should want me, like me and feel glad that I am there. It seems so easy. Sometimes it is, and when it is--it's not the friction of two bodies that brings so much joy--but the simple and direct meeting of two hearts and minds that adds so much depth to the pleasure. I know what it feels like to be with someone who cannot accept my gifts, it's because their heart is closed in some deep and very sad way to self love. I was in that place myself for many years, looking outside of me for someone to fix my hurt places. I finally fixed myself by choosing to court pleasure. I have become dedicated to allowing myself to feel and express the pleasure that is intrinsic to my being. Once I decided to open to loving myself in this way, my experiences have brought me so many opportunities to heal myself of what I once believed to be permanent damage. My body and heart are an eve growing vessel for the expression and creation of pleasure. I wish this for everyone.

Grief Bubbling Up-I Am Not Alone

I am a contradiction of emotions and yearning.
Happy. Sad. Wanting. Content.
Tears come easy these days.
Grief bubbling up.
I push it down.
Love. Fear.
Each moment a choice.
Fear. Love.
Overwhelmed.
Seeking balance before I topple.
I'm so good.
But not doing so well.
I need to rest.
What would that look like?
Major decision for this day-
Should I pull the covers over my head
and cry before I crawl out of bed?
The water's already on for my coffee.
Husband takes care of me.
I need to ask him for a really good massage.
I give thanks for family and friends.
Their sweetness sustains me.
I am not alone.