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Monday, March 30, 2009
He came over, and we talked a bit. He told me how much he still loved her, and how painful it was to try to slip into a platonic friendship from the romantic love they had shared. Things were worse because they still shared the same circle of friends and he saw her frequently. He had been trying to get past it, but just wasn’t having much luck.
I listened, and then explained that I was going to embody Tara, the goddess of wisdom and compassion, while I held him. We sat down on the bed. I lay back, closed my eyes, calmed my mind and invited Her to come into me. When I felt Her energy vibrating through my body, I invited Sam to lie down next to me. He lay on his side and put his head on my breast. I enclosed my arms around him, and held him, rocking slightly. Tara’s warm, smiling energy immediately responded to his sadness, and I felt Her presence more strongly.
Sam began to sob, and cried out the name of his ex-girlfriend. I held him, stroked his hair, and rocked him back and forth. Occasionally I would tell him that it was going to be all right, but mostly I just held him as any mother would hold a child who had been hurt.
Eventually we pulled apart, and Sam got up to blow his nose and splash a little water on his face. When he returned, he looked worn out. I sent him home to get some rest, as he hadn’t been sleeping well.
The next day, he called me to thank me, and said he slept well, and felt lighter and more at peace with the situation. I told him I was glad to be of service, only it wasn’t me, but rather Tara, who had held him in Her arms, and that his gratitude should be directed toward Her.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Gulping inwardly, I welcomed him in. Remembering my ethic of finding something lovable about each person, I softened as I gazed at him.
“How may I serve you?”
“I’ve heard that tantra will help me slow down. I could use that.”
“Yes, I can teach you a way to breathe that will help you with that.”
I began to explain the mechanics of drawing energy up the spine away from the pelvis. I asked him to tell me when he needed to slow down, so I could help him redistribute the energy.
Once he was familiar with the process of delay, I encouraged him to just lie back and enjoy the touch. Caressing him lightly on his legs and thighs stimulated an erection almost immediately. I stroked around his lingam, not touching it, and moved up his belly and chest with my hands. After a few minutes of teasing him, I took his penis in my hands and held it gently.
“Remember, tell me when you want to slow down.”
“All right. It feels really good.”
I poured some lubricant into my hands and enjoyed the slippery feel as my hands slid all over his lingam. Suddenly his body tensed and his eyes grew wide.
“Whoa! Slow down!” Instantly I stopped, but it was too late. His cock twitched and semen began to flow.
“Just let go and enjoy,” I encouraged. “Don’t try to stop it now.” I knew that if he did, he would still have the ejaculation, but no orgasm or pleasure.
As his orgasm subsided, I glanced at the clock. It had been five minutes since I had begun touching him. “Wow, he really does need some help,” I thought to myself. “I had no idea how trigger-happy he was.”
“This is just part of the learning process,” I told him once he was able to hear me again. “You have to learn your body to be able to do this technique. That’s the tricky part. It takes practice. The more you practice, the more you will begin to know when you are getting close, and you can slow down sooner. Practice makes perfect!”
“Should I come to see you again?” he asked.
“Yes, I’d be happy to help you practice,” I answered. “And you can also practice with yourself. Make love to yourself, and practice delaying. You’ll learn a lot.”
“Make love to myself? You mean masturbate?”
“Yes, I like to call it making love to myself. It has a whole different feel than the word masturbation. Masturbation sounds like something furtive and dirty, something you do as quickly as possible so you won’t get caught. That’s why a lot of men have trouble with premature ejaculation. As teenagers they trained themselves to come as fast as they could, hiding in the bathroom.”
“Yes, I did that.”
“So now you can train yourself differently. Set it up as a ritual. Light candles, be in front of a mirror. Pleasure yourself while looking into your own eyes. Tell yourself ‘I love you.’ Celebrate yourself.”
“That’s really different than anything I’ve ever done.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is. Does it sound like fun?”
“Yes, it does,” he said, his eyes wandering off in contemplation.
“The Buddha said that you can travel the world over and never find another person more deserving of love than you. This is a way to express that.”
One of the things that I loved about doing sensual massage was that I reached people who would never have come to see me if I had called it “spiritual” or “healing”. Yet often they were the ones most in need of healing. The promise of an exotic sexual experience lured them in, and once they were there, they often received much more than just a hand job. Like with this man, I used the opening that happened with orgasm as a way in, to plant seeds of self-loving, heart-healing, and a glimpse of a broader reality.
(This is an excerpt from my book, Tales of a Sacred Prostitute.)
Saturday, March 28, 2009
I calmly waved a hand at my friend to keep him from raising his voice too much, people were beginning to look, and with each punched ‘HE’, my face was beginning resemble a half eaten omelet. I picked up my napkin and collectively dabbed my face of the egg bits and coaxed the back of his clenched hand. “Murphy,” I finally broke after listening to his 50 minute looped tirade, “Maybe this guy…”
I choked, and remembered my own experiences from what then seemed to be insufferable men, and how I made myself, every time, out to be the victim. And how I subjected my priestess and priest to the very same dementia Murphy was now parading. I gasped at how uncanny the situation was to mine, he crying and I listening very intently, keeping quiet and steady like a lioness as she watches her hunt. It took every breath in my body to keep from pouncing, ‘SHUTUP!,’ I wanted to roar, ‘...Eat your omelet, Murphy Lohr, and get over it. You are better than him, and you are better than this…now lets eat some cinnamon toast for god’s sake!,’ But I kept cool. Terra Incognita had done that for me, taught me the art of listening with love.
I began again by choosing my words carefully, this time, letting the power of the goddess flow through me. “Let this man be, Murphy. You two shared a wonderful experience. Unfortunately, that experience turned into something you didn’t want. Now’s the time to let it go and move forward. Something else, I’m sure, is waiting for you.”
Murphy perked up, confused. He inhaled the last bits of his food and gulped down what seemed to be gallons of water. A substantial period of silence passed. He wasn’t used to hearing that, it was too alien…too…neutral. But I wanted Murphy to know that he had been mistreated, and that his reaction was justified. ‘It’s one thing to be a passive listener, and then another to be empathetic.,’ I silently reasoned. I caught his reflective gaze and added, “This man did violate you because he wasn’t being fully honest with his intentions, but it is crucial that you don’t make yourself out to be the victim. Don’t let this experience hinder you from finding love. See it as an opportunity, a pivot point to something greater in your life.”
I saw my words flowing through his thoughts, like a soft ripple. It quickly shattered to desperation and his expression hardened, becoming rigid and stiff. I knew from the second he turned from self-reflection to a fort-like defense because I am the queen of defenses, but through tactical conscious effort, the help of my Temple, and dabbling in the realm of Qadishtu, I have learned to become a gracious observer of myself and others, and when asked to, create a space for healing and mentoring…well, sort of. I am still in the processes of being mentored, but as a student I have found that I learn more by assuming the role of teacher.
In his current drama, Murphy was used to hearing curses from his friends, “Fuck him!,” or, “What an asshole!,” to, “Don’t worry, he’ll call you!...Don’t worry, he pines for you! Don’t worry…don’t…don’t do… What a Whore! What a Slut! Dick!” However, I fed him something different, something that he couldn’t seem to swallow easily at first. It was Qadishtu. And through careful, honest intent, I succumbed to Qadishtu and gave Murphy the vehicle to something more freeing and nurturing. I wanted him to access his divine self…
He took in one more forceful gulp of his water. “You know,” he stammered, “the thought of letting him go…just fucking go, is so….I don’t know… it makes sense.”
I concurred, “And you are no longer stuck in all the drama of being pissed at him.”
“Which consumes all your energy and turns you into something unpleasant...”
“And there’s no chance of accessing or finding love when you are like that.”
“Yeah!,” Murphy reassured himself, “He did what he did, and I have no control over that.”
“Right,” I reinforced.
“It had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t personal. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Uh-huh. And now, you are free to just be and love.”
He paused, then blinked. “Why is that so hard to come by? Why can’t everyone just realize that’s how simple these things are? Just coming back to that?”
I asked that question my whole life, but surprisingly, through this conversation I had been jolted with an inspired thought, “Because its supposed to be this way,” I looked at him, eager to share my thoughts, “Its supposed to be a process. We learn a lot about ourselves and others when we do that.”
“You mean, self-inflection. Like, I shouldn’t hate this guy, or blame myself for what happened. It happened, and that’s it… Next!” he playfully snapped his fingers then chuckled.
“Yeah…and for me, and I think you too, it’s the challenge of learning to accept things for what they are, even if they aren’t what we want them to be.”
We sat there and smiled at each other. ‘What an idiot I can be,’ I read in his expression. Good. He went from inconsolable to self-deprecating and high-spirited; I felt resolved and pleased.
I sighed, cradled my head in my hands and eventually let them tangle through my hair, “Its okay, we are all challenged. That’s why revelations like these are so necessary.”
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
During the first step in my formal education, David filled me in on the beginnings of the Temple, as well as the Patrons, Priestesses, and Protégés to date. Some of this history I had heard before in bits and pieces during various discussions over the past six months. For the first time however, it was being told in chronological order, with all of the honest assessments that would be crucial to understanding the Qadishtu work central to this particular temple.
One of the first things that struck me, as David continued his narrative, was the similarity to the uchi deshi system of live-in trainees in a martial or Zen dojo. This was something I was familiar with as a twentyfive-plus year student of both. Having the opportunity to live in the home and temple of my Qadesh teachers affords me the opportunity to breathe in the rhythms and energy that are intrinsic to the particular work we are doing. While I don't currently live here full-time, as my predecessor Kristin did, being able to spend a week every month affords me the opportunity to deepen my intuitive grasp of Qadishti work, as well as my connection to the core Temple members, and the others who make up the inner circles of our group.
On one of my previous visits, I was able to spend a day with David and one of his clients, with her full permission, in order to observe their relationship in action. She was very open to discussing and sharing the benefits she was gaining as a result of working with David, and I was able to garner insights into the varied aspects of what this work might entail. Having the opportunity to engage with both of them in a series of truly delightful social settings allowed me to learn while interacting, which has been essential to my understanding what Qadishti work involves.
Next: My first Client.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
My daughters were very young (6 months and 2-1/2 years) and I was a single parent sleeping on the couch in my living room, while the girls shared the bedroom space. I felt someone touching my breast and instantly woke up. When I looked up, a shadowy form was jacking off next to me. When the man noticed I was conscious, he threw a sheet over my head and climbed on top of me, saying he would hurt my children if I didn't cooperate.
The rapist said he didn't want to harm anyone, he just wanted to get his rocks off. Carefully touching my errogenous zones this man never hurt me. At some point I asked him if he was married. He said no. The apartment was quiet while he was busy trying to get himself hard and then the rapist muttered something about me being so young. I responded that I wasn't as young as he might think and asked him why he was doing this. He quickly responded with a "shhhhh."
His touch was gentle and when it came to actually doing anything, he always asked my permission first, such as when he attempted to finger my ass. As he was probing I whispered, "that's going to hurt" and the rapist replied: "OK, I won't." Finally the man started exploring my vagina and asked if he could fuck me. "If you're asking, then no," I said and again he replied: "Ok, I won't." After that he masturbated for release and shot his load on my rug. As the rapist was leaving I said, "Hey, can you do me a favor? ... Please, close the window on the way out."
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Karuna sessions, as done by the temple I am a part of, had multiple components. Upon arriving, supplicants were anointed and blessed. Then the supplicant had his or her feet washed by a different priest or priestess. As that priest or priestess sat at the supplicant’s feet, the supplicant was asked about the boundaries they would like observed for the period of sacred touch they were about to enjoy. Did they want to be clothed or unclothed? What kind of touch did they like? Hard or soft? Sensual or erotic? What kind of touch did they not want? Then there was usually a short period of time for the supplicant to meditate and prepare for what was to come next.
When the inner chamber was ready, the person who bathed the supplicant’s feet led him or her into a small chamber where two more of the Temple staff waited. The foot-bather introduced the supplicant and shared what had been discussed about boundaries earlier. After confirming with the supplicant that he or she had reported the supplicant’s desires accurately, the supplicant took up a comfortable position with the three priests or priestesses surrounding him or her. Then for fifteen minutes, sacred touch was shared.
Finally, the supplicant was led out. He or she was aided by a Temple staff member to ground and prepare to return to the outside world.
The first sessions I was a part of were incredible. Even when I wasn’t actively engaged with someone, when I was keeping time or waiting to anoint someone, the energy had me high as kite, dancing and happily drinking it all in. I was the foot bather only once and was in the inner chamber for two people, but each was very moving. They were not erotic, but each woman had a wonderful experience of just the sensual touch and adoration.
At the next festival, I finally crossed the line between sensual and erotic. My first experience was with the other Temple staff members in our “practice session.” I remember being the one to initiate to erotic touch. It was with someone that I felt close to and believed would be comfortable with that kind of touch. I gave slight pressure to her perineum with my finger and blew a breath across her vulva. After that, the eroticism escalated. On reflection, I’m glad that my first time being erotic outside of a romantic relationship happened with Temple staff that I felt so comfortable with and close to. It allowed me to experiment with a certain safety net and have more confidence later on when I didn’t know people’s boundaries as well.
When I served in the inner chamber for the festival goers, my strategy was to start out doing for the recipients what I enjoyed having done to me, within the stated parameters. Sometimes, I would try to mirror another priest/ess so that the receiver could experience simultaneous touch on multiple planes of his or her body. I like the idea of them being enveloped in touch. As I let go of myself and gave into the continuous loop, enjoying touching someone and reveling in their enjoyment, I added my voice in soothing, loving tones and petted them with compliments and the gratitude I felt for their trust and vulnerability.
At this festival, we formalized the roles within the inner chamber a little further so that one priest/ess was at the person’s head. I remember holding a woman supporting her head on my breasts, enclosing her with my legs and stroking her head with my fingers. Feeling her melt into what was happening was so beautiful. As I gave myself over, I would often feel impulses to interact in different ways with the recipient. For some, I held myself erect and let my hands and words do most of the interacting. With others I used all of my body, face, breath, hair, and breasts. Sometimes, I would wriggle my body along theirs.
I loved seeing the other Temple staff as well. They are all so beautiful, graceful and transported by the experience. I almost cried at one point seeing multiple pairs of hands moving across a recipient's bare torso.
Our priestess and all the other students with the Temple that weekend joined together to work with a man and woman who were newlyweds. The couple started out lying back to receive the touch from the Temple staff. Eventually, we turned them towards each other, and they made love. I felt so honored to be a part of what happened. It seemed a fitting finale for the sessions we did that weekend.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
There was a participant that really stuck out in my mind from the entire evening. I wasn't giving her sacred touch but i did end up taking part in helping her afterward as she was on over load from so much positive energy.
She had tried grounding, but couldn't ground it all out. She looked at me and said that if she didn't ground out this excess energy that she would need to have a release. She was so sensitive to it and had held on to so much that she was shaking. i tried to instruct her to ground it again and then looked behind me and seen the smokey quartz, i grabbed it and handed it to her and she knew exactly what to do with it. Afterwards she was much better.
She stands, the other girls help her get dressed and then she tightens up her corset. As she tightened it up she had a full body energy orgasm. It was amazing. Afterward she thank us all and i gave her a hug. Her hug opened my own heart chakra and as i stood there hugging her, she started crying and so did i. It was just amazing. Even the words i write doesn't do it justice.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
One aspect of my Qadishtu path involves energy of a most special kind, the creation of rituals. My friends lovingly call me The Ritual Whore. Not only do I love to plan them, I love to attend and feel the energy of being in circle. I love creating rituals for my community. They are usually your Witchy, Pagan type rituals. As a Sacred Sexuality Priestess, I really enjoy the possibility of working with couples or an individual through sharing circle space in the most intimate way. Our work focuses on the union between the participants, deepening the soul, creating a link with the divine within, and establishing the connection from the Shadow to the inner self/being, exploring ceremonial magic and so much more.
Here is an experience I would like to share…
She was beautiful like a midsummer’s fae fluttering about The House of Pleasure and Pain. Let’s call her Fae. I was amazed that she and I knew some of the same people. We were attending a ceremony of a mutual friend. The ceremony joined the Master and Sub wedded bliss. The reception turned from Cakes and refreshments to “Hey, since we are here”. The Mistress of the house said “Sure”! It was a small trusted gathering of friends and each was prepared with their play bags. The Beautiful Fae caught the eye of one of our Pan-Pan men. I watched his attraction grow and swell through out the night as he found the opportunity to find ways to chat with her. I began to see visions of a late night tryst that was sure to happen. Pan whispered in my ear… My God, she is beautiful. I replied, I know! We all flirted shamelessly. Fae approached me with her beguiling eyes and her fluttery beauty. She kissed my face and hugged me a lot throughout our time at the house. I looked at our character Pan who was visibly panting for her totally kept his desire in check. He began his own negotiation with her and offered to tie her up so that she can feel the rope. She expressed certain boundaries to myself and Pan so immediately I offered advice on how to approach any fears she had. I negotiated with the Handsome J so that we could do a little rope work. Pan and I worked in tandem on our two victims I mean bottoms. It was a lovely psychic trip…the headspace was exactly what we all needed. After cooling down with J, I was able to talk to our little Fae. She was sitting there watching me in her corset rope, her flesh colored bra and rosy flushed cheeks. She said that she had much to learn from me and I was surprised at her open wide childlike eyes pleading with me to teach. I told her that I am available. As the night began to wind down at the house, Fae, Pan and I decided to go somewhere else. The energy of the night did not wane. Fae and Pan rode together and they obviously cooked up a plan!
I led them to a beautiful home with a balcony. Upon that balcony, the dance of ritual began to take shape. We sat upon the floorboards, looked out upon the city, and talked about our experiences. They shared an interest in knowing what I do as a Priestess. I looked them into their eyes because I knew this moment would come and I told them about my passion. The journey of exploring sensuality, pleasures through ritualistic acts. I told them that these rituals can be used for a variety of things and if they would like to share an experience, all they had to do was ask. I paused looking at them as they looked at each other…. they immediately said right now? I said sure. The Fae after answering was a bit nervous about what was to be expected of her. The three of us began to cuddle upon a blanket that was conveniently in Pan’s truck. Fae leaned up to me as I cradled her within my bosom, to ground out her fears of the unknown. Pan looked very sincere and lay down upon her belly and we shared a quiet moment. Then we discussed and agreed upon several aspects of the ritual. They were very eager to embark upon the journey. With a candle, a blanket, and our bodies, we discovered sensuality, pleasures, and connections of the most intimate. We spoke words of meaning and reflection. They both stretched their abilities and reached a depth of communication beyond words.
In this blog, I have purposefully left out the mechanics of the ritual because I don’t think it is necessarily important..for the event.. I wanted to focus upon a wonderful moment that was created in a safe environment between those who took time to explore a different side of life. It was indeed a great experience for all involved.
May the Blessings of the Goddess Inanna be with you always.