~ note ~
Although we all love boobs, some of you may be at work. At the end of this post is a set of nude photos that may not be conducive to your current environment.
~ end note ~
After what feels like forever but was actually only about 2 weeks of intense back to back everything, I fell down. I was exhausted. I was ok with that, realizing the run had been not the last two weeks, but the last 6 months coming to a head. This was a wake up call for balance. Continue reading
My greatest fear is holding back.
The holding back of any expression possibly lost due to fear and the lack of courage to overcome it. The thought of not fulfilling my heart’s passions and letting them drown unrealized in the deepest part of me is frightening. I have always been a bold person, done what I wanted despite what might stand in my way. But there is more to it – another level. I recall the conscious moment I decided I would start living for me – creating out of nothing, the vision I had for myself. It would be (it is) the most work I have ever done. It is also the most satisfying, the most pure and the most terrifying.
Before I gave an interview on what I teach, someone whom I admire very much said to me, “Go get em, don’t be stingy with your knowledge. What you have to offer is valuable, be generous.” It was sound advice from a leader I trusted. It gave me the insight and strength to not only be strong in my character but trust what I had to offer was of worth. You see, when you are teaching, you are not meant to know everything – you never will. What makes you a good teacher is the ability to share who you are, where you have been and what you have learned. It’s your perspective and how you present it that makes you a good teacher.
Through my years I’ve had so many crushes on my teachers. Ones who inspired me, who pushed me, who were kind to me. Ones who drove me to be better, to strive and to achieve. I’ve have teachers so strong that even now, I hear their voices as I transition poses in a yoga class led by someone else. That gentle, knowledgeable voice – the one that triggered a gem of awakening in me. That moment of connection I felt with myself, made simply because of what they shared of themselves so generously.
There is a danger to the word sexy.
It’s like a preloaded gun that someone handed to you to use but you didn’t ask for it in the first place. But here you are, finger on the trigger, pointing at a target and hoping you hit the bull’s eye.
Sexy is subjective. Sexy is preordained. Sexy is a myth. Sexy is as individual as each person, and yet it is commodified and sold as something standard and commercial – something unattainable. No wonder women rebel against it – or long for it so intensely. We shy away from this human right of feeling sexual because we do not feel sexy. Their kind of sexy. If we look to the mainstream to give us clues on how to be a woman and how to be sexy, we are losing a game that was never meant to be won.
I am indeed a wealthy woman. One who can bankroll a heart, can shell out mad abundance and front the bill on kindness. My currency is love and I have very deep pockets. As wealthy as I am there is also a great debt that I carry: the debt of gratitude. This debt is not heavy like a sack of carbon blocks slung over your shoulder bogging you down; repressive. This is a weightless wonderment, a renewable resource. It exists everywhere and is begging to be claimed; cultivated.
…neither. I am a woman. Let me ask you this – does it matter?
I was indeed born, raised and am presently living as a woman.
Yet I get asked this question from men and woman alike.
About once a month. Continue reading
When I was 8 years old, I told my mother I wanted to be a stripper. She looked at me with her young and caring eyes, wise past her years, and simply said, “Honey, whatever you want to be do it well, and I will support you.”
Some of my greatest epiphanies have been on a dance floor.
I have seen and felt things that have changed my life forever, in moments that last only fractions of seconds. There is something indescribable about being part of something greater than what you are, a connectedness that you share with the entire universe.
This is not something reserved for a few or the proud, it is your right simply by being alive. It’s the feeling and acknowledgement that you are indeed ~ Divine. There are various methods and theories on how to tap into this “feeling”, but quite honestly, it is just a practice of “being” it.
Music, dance and community gatherings have long been a gateway into tapping in to this experience. Bring those things together in nature and you have a winning combination for letting the earth, moon, sun and stars shine out of your veins.
Enter BassCoast. Continue reading
I have many Lovers and one Mistress. The Stage and I are in a very intimate relationship you see; she is my one true Mistress. The one I sneak off to at night to dance upon, crawl across and radiate from. She accepts that she is not with me all day everyday and understands my need for many Lovers. She also enjoys when I bring my Lovers to visit her, because there can not be one with out the other. Music is the magic that makes my voyeuristic threesome with the stage complete. Music is what I make love to everyday – morning, noon and night. It is the essential life force that flows through my body, awakening every spark available. Music gives new life, insight, and breath into my body. It has become part of how I communicate, how I translate my emotions and how I connect with my audiences. Music is how I seduce the world.
Everyday is different and calls for a special kind of love sometimes several times a day…
Is there ever a day that goes by when we are not listening to music? That any mood cannot be complemented by the vibrations pulsing from speakers in to us, through us, beyond us?
Let’s explore shall we? Cue the phonograph –
It can be a slow and intentional romp – one so deep and delicious that the sounds are practically holding me up as I swoon in it’s arms, succumbing to it’s charms while it brings me softly to the floor – begging for more.