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These stories are real, though some details may be fictionalized, to protect confidentiality and identities, but these are actual accounts of Qadishtu moments. Stories can be told from either the point of view of the priest or priestess or from the perspective of the client/seeker/supplicant. The point is - what do we actually DO? This blog seeks to help answer that through example. What we do is incredibly varied, depending on our individual experience, training, gifts, and inclinations, and that's why this is a group endeavor. We all have gems to contribute to the larger understanding of what it means to be Qadishtu and the significant need for this role in our society today.

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Sunday, April 12, 2009

D the Music Man

Do you remember when you were a kid and you got all excited on Easter morning looking in your Easter basket for all of those goodies? Ahh, there it is. That grand prize of a foil wrapped confection. You would close your eyes and reverently embrace that rabbit in both hands and slowly unwrap the foil, careful not to break the fine covering. Mmmmm. Chocolate. Ok, enough of this torture. You would quickly go to nibble on the ears. Crush. Crumbles would fall into your lap at that same moment that you realized that the bunny was hollow. Sigh.
My memories of the hollow Easter chocolate bunny became my frame of reference for a man called D.
I met D thru on a BDSM website. I had been replying to a thread on Sacred Healing and Sacred Trust and he contacted me with further questions. From there we chatted numerous times. D was a student at a local university and so after several months we met for coffee.
D was from a strict Jewish family and his upbringing was crammed with numerous protocols stymieing his sexual exploration. He spoke of a fear of being in close proximity to any human, especially in an intimate setting. He wanted to work with me, in particular, because I had agreed to his decree for no sexual intercourse. D was saving that intimacy for marriage. D wanted to overcome some of his biases, but still he wanted to learn to be a ‘stud lover’ as he termed as this was his interpretation of a 'perfect man'. He wasn’t sure what he needed, just felt that his awkward advances would be a deterrent to a potential mate.
D doubted that there was much I could help him with, while I felt that we had plenty of material on which to work. We started with simple breathing and non-sexual touch. We did sensual, not sexual, touch. We worked on concentration and meditation. I did healing touch work on him. I felt that I was making the tiniest dent in his armor and strived to work harder. Suddenly, he got frustrated and said that I had wasted his time and asked me to leave.
I was angry with myself for not reading his needs correctly. I castigated myself and conferred with some friends. Then D called me and groveled. So we met again. He brought me flowers and explained his confusion. So we started over.
Until D got panicky, that is and I left once more.
I tried multiple times to include a cohort or to refer him to another priestess. D was always insistent that he had made progress with me as his guide.
When we began, D was working on his Master’s degree in Music Methodology. Over the years, he has studied abroad twice, finished his Masters, and now, has almost finished his PhD.
I have worked with D intermittently over this period. Even when he was out of the country, we would communicate by Internet. But, each time that I felt I was making some small, miniscule, almost-to-be-hoped-for progress, D would retreat. I vowed to not work with him again. Yet, D would return pleading, sometimes even with the sound of music, for my help.
That man could sure make some beautiful music. That man had a smile that made your toes tingle. That man seemed to be one to ‘take home to Mama’.
That man was just as empty as my chocolate Easter bunny when it came to being cozy and intimate and comfortable in his own skin and just as yummy on the inside as the outside.
Have I helped D at all?
Have I given him any tools to guide him with intimacy?
I don’t rightly know at this point. D is not speaking with me again.

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