Life, death and love

A Terra Incognita member died recently of cancer. He was in his early 50's and well known in the extended Pagan community. I met Cy at Light of the Moon, a monthly Chicago Pagan gathering where David and I helped our local crone Cailleach co-host for many years. We found this event a great way to satisfy social obligations and invite people to meet us for the first time. Characteristically Cy wore a black Paladin-like cowboy hat and was accompanied by his red-headed magickal partner, Heather. Though my influence impacted more directly on her husband Woody, I believe my story is more about how this Qadishtu experience primarily affected Heather and both her loves.

Heather was her Magickal name. Apparently she chose that name because it reflected the person her psyche pictured as the little girl who stood on a knoll of her childhood farm. She and Woody had been married for years when her uncle left her a quarter of the ancestral farmland. The family decided to sell the property to developers so the farm as she remembers it no longer exists. The name Heather, she explains, gives that farm permanence in her life and thus gave her the stamina to let it go when she answered an advertisement and joined an active Pagan group in nearby Evanston. Coincidentally, Cy, an experienced pagan living across the city in Hyde Park, read the same ad and drove 20 miles to attend the coven’s first initiatory meeting. They immediately became close partners in an earth-based spiritualism which finally gave her a language that responded to the land she so deeply cherished.

Heather and Cy became dedicated to the coven and began going everywhere together, whether it was weekend retreats in other states or attending local Pagan events. Their mutual affection grew while they remained married to other partners. Heather and Woody had no children, but Cy and his wife adopted two girls. Unfortunately, as her spiritualism took on the face of her land, the coven became the euphoric spiritual path she shared with Cy that balanced the weighty every-day familial responsibilities she had with Woody. Needless to say, Woody was not happy.

I entered Heather's poly family through sexual energy work with her and Cy. I soon discovered that her husband Woody basically felt abandoned and lost without the loving partner that he thought he had married. My sexual relationship with Heather and Cy faded, though, as I became more invested in a Qadishtu healing dynamic with Woody. He was not spiritually or magickally inclined at the time, but even that changed as I introduced him to the Chicago Tantric community when Terra Incognita hosted a workshop led by Janet and Sasha Lessin from Hawaii in 2005.

Woody's primary complaint was that he didn’t have access to a world that could understand nor accept people having relationships outside of their marriage. Through this workshop Woody became more aware of how he could enjoy polyamorous experiences as meaningful physical exchanges with like minded folks that didn’t include wife swapping or cheating. There were families, like his, that were “poly” and incorporated spiritual, meaningful exchanges in their familial multi-partnered relationships.

Woody took my sexual exchanges with him very seriously and it was through this heart connection that he began walking into unfamiliar situations, unbelieving at first and then progressively with more confidence. He is now open to date and develop relationships without being hampered by traditional ideas of monogamy and fidelity. Woody loves his wife very much and although Heather's relationship with Cy was difficult for him in the beginning, it was through this love for her and his desire to maintain their marriage that he found room to include Cy in his family.

As Qadishtu, I gave my body to all three ... twice to Heather and Cy, twice to Heather and Woody ... loving exchanges which facilitated bringing them all closer. Poly is hard to implement in a non-poly situation so it took me a few couseling sessions to work out the pain and animosity Woody initially felt toward Cy and Heather.

On the morning Cy died, he sat up in bed and clearly called for Woody twice. Heather got her husband on the phone while he was at work and Cy's faint voice brought him to tears. Cy didn’t ask for anyone else. A successful Qadishtu experience is not just about sex, though the connection sex offers is important. It's about the relating, bonding and support our efforts give and how it supports the love everyone feels in the end.

Pivot Point

Editor's note: Love (and heartbreak) is often our business as Qadishti. Our newest Qadishtu Experience contributor ~Geshti-Eresh~ has decided to post a first person narrative on how the Q-mindset has shaped her approach when counseling friends as well as clients.

David

“I’m overwhelmed by this whole situation,” my friend managed to whisper at me with a mouth half full of egg and bacon omelet, “I don’t understand it. HE started this. HE approached me. HE sped through the go sign and didn’t look back…HE…”

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.”
“Yeah…”
“Which consumes all your energy and turns you into something unpleasant...”
“Yeah…a monster.”
“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.”
“Exactly.”
“Huh.”
“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.”

Geshti-eresh

getting it

Recently, we were at an event in Washington, DC, and someone requested we do a "scene". Now, a scene can range from anywhere to highly sexual to BDSM exploration to other kinds of intimate interaction.

This person, whom we'll call A, was a little vague on what she wanted. She had seen us present two classes, one on Sacred Sexuality, another an introduction to BDSM, so we were not sure which way she wanted to approach this. As we started to negotiate (very important, creating a clear understanding of what we were all looking for and what limits we wanted in place), it simply wasn't becoming clear.

Sometimes the heart knows it has a need, but we can have difficulty expressing it, either from a lack of being taught it was ok to ask, from being uncertain/fearing rejection, or simply not having the language.

What she needed was intimacy. Being connected. Being touched. Being valued. Being accepted as a member of the human family, cherished by each other.

We ended up settling on a scene that was based on simple touch. Stroking, carressing, connecting touch. It was intimate, mildly erotic, and a wonderful opprotunity for her to practice receiving and for us to practice giving.

Qadishti Eyes

“Every closed eye is not sleeping, and every open eye is not seeing.” Bill Cosby

I usually try to watch where I am walking (yes, Grace is a nickname) but as I stand at an elevator waiting for the crowds to part, I begin to notice that I was the only person in site wearing a skirt, camisole and jacket in earth tones. To my left were suits in gray, black and navy. To my right were suits in navy, black and gray. I steal a quick glance over my shoulder and see a whole sea of blacks, navies and grays. I turn completely around and begin squinting my eyes, as if I am looking for someone, and as I squint, the sea of black, navy and gray blur into a vastness of muted dark with only miniscule specks of a lighter flesh color for faces.

Ughh! I need to see sunlight and the cerulean blue sky. Quickly.

The elevator dings its arrival and I turn and wait until the passengers exit before entering the cube myself. A smooth ride to the lobby and I am able to escape out the side door. Soon I am squinting for another reason even as I smile into the sunshine.

I share my smile with the other people around me. Another cluster of business suits all still pushing buttons on their blackberries, or gazing off into the parking lot with blank stares. A fascinating study of humans and how they can so disassociate with the living around them. I admit that it is easier to exclude yourself from intimacy especially when in public. But this is opposite to all the teachings that I learn in walking the Path of the Qadishti. As a Qadishti, I seek to make a connection with the stranger next to me just as much as I make a connection with any seeker.

My eyes drift shut as I think about how important my eyes are to my work. My eyes are the first link to seeing inside someone’s soul. My eyes are the windows to my heart, just as your eyes are the windows to your heart.

Previously on this very Blog, some of my colleagues have talked about the importance of eyes. We try to elucidate the significance of opening our eyes to truly see who is in front of us every waking moment. It is a labor of our love for this path in helping others open themselves as humans, as individuals, and as sexual beings. Our job is to help our seekers connect all the parts. This connection is our Qadishti labor of love.

Touched by Love

I had recently gotten out of a relationship, and was looking for some new playmates. I put an ad on Craigslist Casual Encounters. B. was one of the guys who answered my ad. We agreed to meet for dinner.

B. was in town for a few months to film a movie. He was a bit shy and awkward, a classic "nice guy." He had mentioned before that he was the sort of guy who women always wanted to have as friends, but never as a boyfriend. He came across much more confidently online than he did in person - he was a comedian, and a very funny writer. We spent a pleasant evening talking, though it took some effort to draw him out.

When we finished dinner and were standing outside by the car, I decided to tell him a little bit about my priestess work, and asked him if he'd let me practice on him (I was fairly new to the path and wanting to further hone my skills). He thought it sounded intriguing, and we went to my house.

We went in the bedroom and I lit some candles. I explained that I would channel the goddess for him, and asked him if there was a particular goddess who interested him. He immediately said Aphrodite, because she is the goddess of love. While she is not a goddess I normally work with, I agreed, and allowed her to come into my body. She was lighter, more playful than I expected, sweetly sensual and joyous. Through me, she began to make love to B.

The sex was short, but sweet, and afterward, we lay in each others' arms and chatted. He looked into my eyes and told me that they were beautiful. I said it wasn't me, but Her that he was seeing. I was having a hard time focusing; my eyeballs jittered as if I were drugged. We caressed each other, and kissed and talked some more. He had an early day the next day, so I drove him back to the place he was staying. He kissed me goodnight, and thanked me for a very interesting evening.

A couple of months later, I got an email from him (he had put me on a mailing list announcing his upcoming appearances). He told me he was getting married. It turned out that a couple of weeks after we had seen each other, he was in his hometown, and had met someone. He was clearly smitten with her, and she had moved out to Los Angeles and moved in with him.

It was quite a turnaround from his previous experiences with women as he had described him. I believe that Aphrodite had put Her mark on him, or at least given him confidence to open his eyes and his heart to what the world had to offer him. It wasn't the first time it has happened after I have embodied the goddess for a man, and I'm sure it won't be the last.