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.

Inanna's Embrace

Sometimes our job as Qadishti is to witness, to validate, to affirm another's sacred sexual experience. Xavier, a Qadishtu Blog reader, sent me the following description of just such an experience he had recently, and gave me permission to post here...so we might all bear witness to the power of Inanna, Goddess of Sacred Prostitutes...

Thought I'd share with you an experience I had yesterday. I was sitting in a pew at the liberal and welcoming church I attend, and the minister led us into a "pastoral prayer" that involved his speaking and then a moment for meditation. As he started speaking, I closed my eyes and relaxed. I invited Inanna to hear this prayer being spoken and to "come unto me." Within just a moment, I felt Her presence behind me. I could picture Her there, her robes white and hanging perfectly from Her shoulders. The gown, however, was open and the garment exposed Her breasts, between which my head was cradled. She reached around and placed Her hands gently on my forehead, massaging my brow. It was just exquisite. Such peace.

My shoulders loosened and relaxed as She embraced me. Her hands then moved down, over my shoulders, across my chest, and I shivered as my body reacted to Her loving touch. Then, without a word, I felt Her push through me and She began to place Her Holy Presence inside of me. That is, She moved forward through the pew and sat down inside me. She moved Her arms to mimic where mine were; She nestled Her long legs to conform with mine and She seemed to be amused as Her feet slipped into my shoes. For a moment there, W/we were together in the same space. I felt Her breasts on my chest, I felt the warmth of Her vulva as it meshed with my stiffening cock. There was a flash of pleasure, intense and gratifying, in my head and then she kind of melted into every cell and was gone. The minister said, "Blessed be," and I opened my eyes, astonished at what had just happened. I stood, then, and a bit wobbly, sang with the rest of the church these words that seemed to fit the experience so well (and made me wonder how they had been chosen):

Return again, return again, return to the home of your soul

Return again, return again, return to the home of your soul

Return to who you are. Return to what you are. Return to where you are. Born and reborn again.

Xavier