Just Having Fun

“Can Tantra help me with erectile dysfunction?” Robert asked, as he clasped his hands and leaned forward.

This was our first session. He was an older man, with white hair and saggy muscles. His blue eyes looked at me hopefully.

“Well, there are a lot of reasons for that, so it can be complicated. Let’s start with the easiest ones first – the physical causes. Have you seen a doctor about this?”

“Yes, he didn’t find anything wrong.”

“Do you smoke?”

“No,” he answered.

“Good. Smoking will constrict the blood flow to the penis and make it harder to have an erection. How much exercise do you get?”

“Well, I don’t do very much.”

“You might try adding some aerobic exercise to your daily routine. If you have good circulation, then you’re more likely to get good blow flow.”

I continued to ask him questions about his physical health – diabetes, antidepressants, and his general health condition. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, so I moved into another area.

“Sometimes when you focus upon trying to get an erection too much, it actually gets in the way. You give yourself performance pressure. When you think to yourself, ‘I wonder if I’ll stay soft this time,’ your brain hears ‘stay soft’ and it cooperates.”

He chuckled a little. “Yes, I can see that.”

“One thing that Tantra teaches is to just stay in the moment, without an agenda of what should happen. You can enjoy the sensations of sexual touch whether you have an erection or not. If you’re working hard to have an erection, then sex becomes work, not fun. And isn’t is supposed to be fun?”

“Yes, I guess it is.”

“So let’s try a little experiment. Let me pleasure you, and instead of trying to make something happen, let yourself just have fun.”

“Ok,” he agreed. “Sounds good to me.”

As I touched him, I made sure to include his whole body, with only incidental touches to his lingam. I made my pace leisurely, reminding him from time to time to focus just upon the touch in the moment without needing it to go anywhere next. His body responded to my touch with relaxation, and he began to drift.

Soon, his penis began to enlarge. I began to focus more upon it, adding lubricant to make a sensuous slippery feel. His mouth opened in arousal and his lingam got harder.

“Oh, that feels good,” he breathed.

“Good, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Just continue to pay attention to each touch, as if you have never been touched before. Notice how it is different one moment to the next.”

I encircled the base of his penis with my thumb and fingers, trapping the blood and creating a full erection. My other hand continued to glide over his lingam.

“Oh! I’m going to come!” he exclaimed.

“Good, let yourself do that,” I purred.

His body stiffened and his face reddened as he ejaculated. Soon, he collapsed into a complete relaxation. Moments passed in silence as I continued to cup his genitals in my hands.

“Thank you so much.” He slowly opened his eyes and looked at me. “It’s been a really long time since that happened.”

“See what happens when you drop the goal and stay in the moment?” I smiled at him. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes, it was great fun! Much better than working at it,” he laughed.

“Now you know what is possible. You can do this again.”


(This is an excerpt from my book, Tales of a Sacred Prostitute.)

The Lady of the Dark Fire

I saw a client yesterday who was in crisis. She had been fighting with her boyfriend, and her neck was hurting badly. As I laid my hands upon her neck, I told her that it was all right to cry. Soon she was sobbing loudly.

She moved around the floor into different positions, crying and then screaming. She remembered being molested at age seven, in the dark. I stayed with her, following her energy.

Then she sat up. Her body softened, and she started saying “OK” over and over. I asked her permission, then held her yoni with one hand. My other hand touched her spine lightly as she rocked her body. I didn’t know exactly what was happening, but I knew that it was important.

She got to a place where she could talk again, and told me what had happened. A goddess had spoken to her, one who is of the dark fire. The goddess told her that it was time to dedicate her life to the dark fire, that she could make no more plans of her own. It was time to serve the dark fire. My client surrendered to this, and was at peace with it, even though she didn’t know what it meant.

Today she called me and told me that the session yesterday had changed her life. She was more relaxed at work than she had ever been. She is willing and even excited to do this service.

It is such a privilege to be a midwife for such an opening. I am honored to do this work.

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.

Come to Mama

My friend Sam’s girlfriend had recently broken up with him, and he was really struggling with letting go. I suggested that some of the work I did might be helpful for him, and he quickly agreed. We set up a time to meet.

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.

Making Love To Yourself

He was a tow truck driver, sloppy fat with greasy hair and black under his fingernails. His shirttail hung out on one side, and his khaki pants were baggy.

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.)

Qadishtu By Any Other Name

Earth Priestess
The moon was high upon the hill. Luscious in Her fullness. I felt ripe with her. My breasts swollen. I ran through the darkened trees. Howling. Feeling my blood pulse in the rhythms of Her sea. I returned to the Wooden Yurt hidden in the woods, lit the wood stove, and lay me down to stoke other fires. My passion. My vision.

I caressed my body slowly, lingeringly from head to toe. Thank you I said softly. Thank you for being my body, for caring my soul. Thank you for holding my beauty and desire. In waves, arousal built and as it did I called and breathed the energy up from my throbbing vulva through my belly up to my heart, my 3rd eye and cascading out of the fontinelle, the crown. I sent the radiant light of Eros out to all beings.

Invoking love, light, and the healing integration of heart, body, mind, spirit and Eros (again). Can you feel it?

Sex Counselor
I closed the door to the room paneled in dark wood. We had added a move-able fireplace, candles, artwork, couches, chocolate and water. I lit the candles. Brought out a bit of sage and smudged the room. Praying that I might be guided to bring healing to this couple who had lost the spark of desire between them.

Throughout the 2 hour session, I would breathe the energy down to the earth. The mother/father planet that carries us all. Throughout the session I would pray - help. From deep in my belly would arise wisdom, as a fish coming to the surface from a deep lake. I would invite them to look softly into one another's eyes, or breathe together, or hear compassionately, or encourage them to touch softly.

I saw the light return to their eyes. I saw the hope rise in their hearts. At one point they jokingly asked if we could leave the room. Divine Eros was present.

Sexual Healer
He had a lover from 4 to 8 years old. A best guy friend turned comrade in sensual exploration as well as sports. It was fun, innocent, and filled with pleasure. One day, out of no where it seemed, his friend came over to say "I don't want to be your friend anymore. Your penis is ugly."

He became my beloved when he was 48. For 40 years he had been driven by sex, tried it all, and cheated on every relationship. The first time we made love, I felt his lush soulful energy missing from his phallus. When I asked why, he told me the tale above.

Over the next 8 months, I would give him 2 hour sessions in our bed. I would clear my mind, open my heart, pray, invoke the Divine Feminine in me and invite the Divine Masculine in him. Most of this without words. Pure presence. Deep compassion. Full love.

I would put one hand on his heart chakra (in the center of the chest) and one hand gently cupping his wand of life (his phallus). I would envision the energy moving between them. I would gently caress and massage him from head to toe with my hands, my breasts, my lips, and all of me. Blessing. Blessing. Blessing. Blessing.

Over the months he began to dream. At first of a leper family. I offered it might be his disenfranchised inner Little Boy and Inner Nurturers. Later he would wake shouting "Do you hear them? The people in the shadows outside the house?" Still later outside the room.

I offered they might be his Inner Family coming closer.

One day, while making love, I invoked my Little Girl and asked "do you have a Little Boy?" He closed his eyes. Checked inside . . . and said yes. Then that part of me asked "Can he come out and play?" He closed his eyes. Checked inside. When he opened his eyes innocence was there looking out at me.

We began to rock. Bounce. Laugh. Nuzzle. All while our genitals were connected. Ahhh. Such joy.

I learned that day, that it is the Little One's inside us that carry our deepest pain and purest potential. It is in the bringing home and healing of the Natural Self, the Eros Self in innocence that full love can finally arise.

Qadishtu by any other name?

When I presence the Divine All That Is, when I invite myself to be guided by something beyond what I think I know, when I flow with spirit on behalf of the healing of the Erotic Nature, I am Qadishtu.

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.

Receiving

Yesterday, my wife and I were joined by our Path of the Qadishti peers to share some teachings on sacred touch as a connection tool to each other.

Sometimes I lead these, but yesterday I was struck by the need to be person receiving.

It is amazing what we accomplish by working together. Our group yesterday created sacred space, a magical space, that allowed each of us to receive or give as needed. I needed to receive, and that need was met.

All without ego, without hierarchy. Although there are styles and teaching, the true depth of this comes from within. Allowing yourself to breath out, relax, drop your shields and receive. Breath out, relax, and allow yourself to give.

Michael Mirdad mentions "The sexual healing process involves learning the difference between healthy (spiritually-centered) and unhealthy (ego-centered) sexual encounters"(1) and this was very apparent and felt yesterday in our small space. We were a group of people who were acting as one to heal all; acting as all to share in the one.





1 - Sacred Sexuality--A Manual for Living Bliss by: Michael Mirdad)