Sexually liberate yourself!

Sexual liberation is such an important journey to take and it is often so misunderstood. For you it may be just as liberating to acknowledge that you like basic things in bed as it is for someone else to admit that they like all sorts of rough and freaky things in bed. It’s okay to like it sweet and gentle, it’s okay to like it hard and edgy. What’s not okay is to not know yourself- to deny yourself. To not know what you really want. What’s not okay is to stay in a relationship with someone you are not sexually compatible with. Who doesn’t satisfy you. The specific practices you engage in are not related to how sexually liberated you are. Owning what you want, whatever that is, and finding people with compatible desires to own it with- that is whats important.

Being sexually liberated does not mean you have to be kinky. It does not mean that you have to like having sex a lot or even at all. It means that you have gotten to know yourself deeply without shame, without judgment. It means you understand the deep roots that trace back through your life that has caused your sexuality to develop the way it has. It means you understanding the influences that have sculpted your sexuality. And it means that you revisit your desires often, letting your thoughts and your fantasies shift and unfold as you change over time. It means embracing your own unique version of sexuality, whatever that looks like for you, and find ways to practice and celebrate it with others who want it like that too.

Finding Wellness

This is the story of my body finding illness

And how in illness I found peace:

My whole life is a picture being colored in,

each moment turned towards this purpose,

every second another step on a path- moving towards my own pace.

It is here I found the wholeness- a singular glimpse

that flashes forward moment by moment-

unfolding in my surrender to presence.

Each day passes slower. Quiet. Tuned in.

This is the story of my body finding illness

And how in illness I found peace.


changed. Each vessel, each nerve:

online- awake in its own awareness of itself-

Like rebirth. Intertwining in each silky tissue.

This journey. This deepness.

I am expansive.

And again- the slowness: like moving through thick water,

whispering in the smallest moments:

a chorus of cells singing precious old songs:

I am alive. I am online. I am tuned in.

This is the story of my body finding illness

and how in illness I found peace:

for now that I am sick, I have never felt such grief,

and I have never felt so calm,

and I have never moved so slow,

and I have never been so well.

The Deepness

The deepness- the rawness-

Each muscle in my chest turning over

And spilling out.

Each slippery cell sliding around on

Itself, exposing the

Unformed, pulsating backside,

Writhing heavy in the deepest part of me:

Baby eels twitching and stagnant in the

Nurturing dampness.

I scoop them up. Pull them tail first

From the deepest belly cavities-

Exposing what has been hiding,

Growing unnoticed in my abdomen,

Feeding in the dark.

I find what was gnawing at the foundation:

Everything I thought was holding me up

Has been softly crumbling,

And I did not know.

My bones are hollow,

My skeleton cracks and topples-

But behind, the stars: cold and bright:

Searing my gullet,

Illuminating each squirming piece

Of rotting tissue.