check out this hilarious piece from The Onion about spiritual polyamory. Reminds me of one of my fave old posts.
and here’s a little musical inspiration to go along with the above articles…
sorry, the hunky Jesus contest in SF yesterday was just too inspiring…
I am so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so going to Hell.
Or to Heaven,
depending on what side of the cosmic bed you sleep on…and with Whom…
So I’m practicing some lazy yoga asanas on my floor yesterday, and as I’m laying there all relaxed and meditative and chill in supta badakonasana, I look up at an image of the Virgin Mary I have resting on a high shelf – it’s this awesome kitchy 2 feet by 2 ft poster board image of the Virgin of Guadalupe that my Alexander Technique teacher found in an San Francisco alley and so kindly passed along to me – and that’s when It happened.
Now, in case you don’t know the story of the Virgin of Guadalupe I’ll give you a brief low down: Way back on December 9, 1531 a goddess floating on a moon with stars in her hair appeared to a Mexican Indian, Juan Diego on Tepeyac hill, which used to be a sacred site of the Aztec Moon Goddess, Tonantzin. This goddess asked Juan to build a sacred shrine to her on the hill. Juan freaked out a bit and ran to the local bishop for some reinforcement. The big guy told Juan he needed proof of this supposed miracle. So Juan went back to the hill and explained the deal to the goddess who most likely sighed and rolled her stars, but told him to gather the nearby roses (which shouldn’t have even been blooming since it was the dead of winter), and carry them in his cloak back to the bishop. Juan did as she asked and when he returned to the Bishop, he opened his cloak, the roses tumbled out, and lo and behold, an image of the goddess was imprinted on his cloak. The bishop, using the only lens he had to name spiritual reality, Catholicism, declared that the image was the Virgin Mary. And that’s how an Aztec moon goddess morphed into The Virgin of Guadalupe.
OK, but back to Hell. You know how people “see” the Virgin Mary in their mashed potatoes or in oil spills or in water stains on the side of a house (I believe there’s a movie coming out about this phenomenon shortly)? Well, I saw something truly Holy and SacRED and miraculous in my particular image of the Virgin Mary.
I saw,
gulp,
well,
I saw…..
um,
a Yoni.
Truly. I still do when I look at this poster. In fact, I think I will forever more see a vagina when I look at a similar iconographic representation of the Virgin. The image heading this post is the closest one I could find to the one on my poster, but in reality, my poster is much more vivid than this image in regards to colors, detail, etc.
So, let’s get specific shall we? Relax your gaze, let loose your expectations or preconceived ideas, and take a gentle gander at our fair lady.
Not to get too gynecological on you, but what the hell, it’s Tuesday: The reddish halo with the yellow flaming spikes around her = the Labium Majora, her darker folded robes = the Labium Minora, and in my image, her inner dress is reddish, and her head has a crown on it = the clitoris.
This is so clear to me that I’m in shock. The “Virgin” is also a Vagina, or as Oprah would say, a Va-J-J (and, as many of you know the true meaning of the word Virgin is “one into herself”). Of course of course of course I realize this spontaneous “vision” is due to me using my red “lens” like that Mexican bishop used his Catholic lens, but damn people, in my maybe delusional definitely crazy red universe, this could also be one of the biggest and best cosmic jokes the Goddess has played on the Church.
Whatever it is or isn’t, it’s my intent to spread this new image of the Virgin of Guadalupe like a divine virus, so no one can look at her, love her, pray to her, without also looking, loving, praying to the Great Yoni of us All.
Awomen.
All the red deities and angels and glowing mystics know that making love on an Altar does a spirit, a body, and most definitely, a Church, good. In fact, in ancient times, in certain cultures (in Mesopotamia, India, Egypt, Greece, even Italy), altars were the best place to get your groove thang on, usually with a priestess or a priest who was a well-trained “stand in” for a goddess or god. In other words, if you were alive back then (and you probably were, once) you could (or did) visit a temple in order to directly experience the divine… through sex.
Now, that’s Holy Communion!
But when the monotheistic religious giants rolled into town, they were not so kind to these priestesses or priests. The One God was, well, frigid, and if he ever had sex, well, apparently it was just with himself. There was no Goddess around to help create the New. Sexuality became spirituality’s nemesis. But, here we are, a few thousand years later, and it seems like the sacred sex train has steamed back into town, modern priestesses are throwing back the covers, and even “ordinary” Jane and John have begun to actively seek out the spiritual within the sexual and the sexual within the spiritual and they will break into Churches and get all sorts of hot and messy to prove it.
Check out this recent news story that a Friend directed my way:
A couple in Florida were caught doing the dirty deed on the altar of a Baptist Church. The couple brought red candles to set the mood and the Deputies who arrested them complained that “there was splattered red wax all over the altar“! When asked why they did the horizontal tango in a Church, the young woman simply said “she wanted a spiritual and sexual experience”. To which, Isis and Mary Magdalene and Ishtar sung “Hallaluja, sista!”.
Now I’m not saying these two frisky kids are some sort of modern-day priest and priestess, and I’m not advocating that we disrespect someone else’s place of worship (well, maybe sometimes, if the spirit moves ya) but this story is a juicy little reminder of how this sexual spiritual energy is rising up in all the right places these days - and it’s important to inquire, pay attention, and investigate what this might mean.
A Red Point: You can’t suppress an innately horny Universe forever, no matter how many people you punish or how many deities you banish or how many bad clothing choices you make. Payback is a powerful bitch that likes to desecrate (or consecrate???) church altars with red candle wax.
So what can you do this week to help relieve the Universe? What can you do to sanctify your sexuality and sully your spirituality? There are only so many churches…(wink)
I have a blushing red confession to make:
My Alexander Technique lessons turn me On.
I don’t think my teacher knows this and I’m not sure if it’s Technically correct to feel so turned On (Alexander is probably tossing in his grave right now as I write this), but I gotta be honest about this phenomenon because I think it’s pretty damn amazing. And I did just write that Rumi post. And maybe it could open up new marketing avenues for the Alexander Technique (wink).
Now, despite how turned On I feel during (and after) a lesson, I always behave myself – I do not grope my teacher or manipulate him, ya know, try to shift and get him to touch me “right there” or project on to him or blast him with my second chakra or do anything unprofessional. I also know that my wonderfully gifted Alexander Technique teacher is not trying to turn me on, he is just, rather masterfully, creating the space for me to turn myself On.
That’s right, he’s not doing anything “to me”. He’s not healing me or fixing me or opening me or even helping me. His touch is always clean, boundaries are incredibly clear, there isn’t even a definitive “student” or “teacher” during our lessons. His hands, to me, are the divine’s hands, or a bodhisattvas’s or Mary Magdalene’s or a Goddess’s or my own (depending which day of the week it is and what dreams I’ve had the night before). His professional touch simply reminds me to be present, to come back into my body, to allow the universe to dance through me, to stop doing and start being, and to connect with everything and everyone so intimately that the distinction between I and Thou dissolves, like an ice cube in hot chocolate.
Can it get any hotter? Oh yes it can. My Alexander Technique lessons are splashed with Tango. Whaa? That’s right, I’m learning “tango- inspired Alexander Technique”. Ah, yes, how sweatingly poetic (I now deem sweatingly a legitimate “red” word). The Red Lady could not have set this up any better. Because not only am I experiencing some incredibly positive benefits from these lessons, they also press many of my red buttons: my issues, fears, shyness, and resistance to authentic connection are revealed, touch by touch, movement by movement.
Authentic connection is a tricky one for me. I love connecting with my friends and family and lovers and readers. Connecting spiritually with a goddess – I’m right there, pushing back her cosmic cuticles, but connecting physically and energetically with another human, especially a man that I’m not in an intimate relationship with, makes my ego do a nosedive and my body stiffen while my spirit bats her lashes. It’s, uh, confronting, to say the least.
So, I make a ton of “mistakes” in my sessions. I get in the way. I laugh a lot. I have come to realize fairly quickly that it’s useless to “try” during these lessons (although, I then try to stop trying). Any attempts to “do” or to excel at the Technique, fail. Therefore, during the lesson, the “A+ student” complex has to hang out in the corner, taking notes with the “good girl” and “ the pleaser” and the “scared of getting it wrong” complexes, till the class is over. Then I take them all across the street to Whole Foods for organic blueberry juice.
Speaking of Whole Foods, it’s not quite the same after an Alexander Technique lesson. Seriously. Today I fell in love with my grocery cart. I would have married it if it wasn’t illegal to do so. The smooth cool touch of the plastic, the thrill of dancing gracefully with it through the narrow aisles. We had a…special connection. And then there’s the food - the textures, the colors, the smells, the temperatures. Have you ever caressed produce in public? Sure, you receive some curious stares from strangers, but it’s worth it, and here’s a red trick: if the stares get too much, simply rub a cucumber “just so”, look them in the eye, and wink. It’s rare times like these that make you realize life really is like a veritable energetic orgy if you allow it to be. Rumi wasn’t just being poetic. And this allowance makes grocery shopping (hell, everything) so much more worth while, so much more alive, so much more divine.
The most beautiful part of what I’m learning (and re-learning and re-learning every single lesson) is that this mystico-erotic awareness is completely natural. Despite the fancy adjective I just gave it, this state of being is not special. And despite the way I might write about it, it’s certainly not dirty or even stereotypically mystical or sexual. It’s sensual. It’s loving. It’s raw. It’s just what Is. True intimate connection with life with others with food and trees and the air and shopping carts is what we’re here to experience.
In fact, if more of us allowed for this level of divine intimacy, if more of us realized our interdependence, this planet would not be in such a crisis. We couldn’t do the things we’re doing to destroy it because to hurt this planet, or each other, would feel like we were cutting our own skin, chopping off a limb, drinking poison. It’s obvious, it’s even a bit cliché, but I tell ya, there’s nothing like directly experiencing this idea, this natural state of being, to remind you of this truth.
So what are you doing in your life to connect more deeply?
What turns you On?
(and if any of you are in the Bay Area, you should definitely try a session with my teacher. He gets a big red stamp of divine approval…not that he needs it)