Unrequited
I had a realisation that I’ve spent much of my life in situations of unrequited love. I don’t know what to do about that particular existential kink.
I had a realisation that I’ve spent much of my life in situations of unrequited love. I don’t know what to do about that particular existential kink.
Shallow
It’s easy to recognise someone who hasn’t taken a self-development journey in conversational dead ends. The lack of experiential or emotional depth or shade, as the conversation once again steers to mundane past anecdotes. I can find interest in many things, yet this trip down memory lane via unrelated enrollment anecdotes eludes me. Call me shallow.
It’s easy to recognise someone who hasn’t taken a self-development journey in conversational dead ends. The lack of experiential or emotional depth or shade, as the conversation once again steers to mundane past anecdotes. I can find interest in many things, yet this trip down memory lane via unrelated enrollment anecdotes eludes me. Call me shallow.
Sink
When I first bought the house in Corfu, I remember a moment when I looked out of the back window at a single orange on the tree, black mould blanketing the leaves. In the far distance, forboding Pantokrator, the quiet volcano at the centre of the island. My heart sank at the enormity of the task ahead. Until that moment, the process of buying had had an unstoppable momentum. While there were many healthy oranges the following year, this season we’re back to the lonely flowering. Meanwhile, the lemon trees are raining lemons, and I don’t know how to make marmalade. I wonder if it’s time to go to the chapel at the mountain? There’s a darkness to inner strength, and it might be time to pray for guidance rather than repent at leisure.
When I first bought the house in Corfu, I remember a moment when I looked out of the back window at a single orange on the tree, black mould blanketing the leaves. In the far distance, forboding Pantokrator, the quiet volcano at the centre of the island. My heart sank at the enormity of the task ahead. Until that moment, the process of buying had had an unstoppable momentum. While there were many healthy oranges the following year, this season we’re back to the lonely flowering. Meanwhile, the lemon trees are raining lemons, and I don’t know how to make marmalade. I wonder if it’s time to go to the chapel at the mountain? There’s a darkness to inner strength, and it might be time to pray for guidance rather than repent at leisure.
Transactional
If you know human design, I’m a 4/6 generator, the Opportunist/Role Model. A design to create opportunities with friends and friends of friends. Without that focus of opportunity, the energy peters out. Although it can feel transactional when not correct, it’s thrilling when we’re helping each other out with what we individually value. I’m not here to appeal to strangers.
If you know human design, I’m a 4/6 generator, the Opportunist/Role Model. A design to create opportunities with friends and friends of friends. Without that focus of opportunity, the energy peters out. Although it can feel transactional when not correct, it’s thrilling when we’re helping each other out with what we individually value. I’m not here to appeal to strangers.
Commune
Doing things together is so nice, I want to live in a posh commune. Sometimes I do. Together, we get tasks done, eat salad in the sun, go to the beach, and watch the sunset. We feel less stressed and isolated, there’s progress and discovery amidst connection and purpose with heart.
Doing things together is so nice, I want to live in a posh commune. Sometimes I do. Together, we get tasks done, eat salad in the sun, go to the beach, and watch the sunset. We feel less stressed and isolated, there’s progress and discovery amidst connection and purpose with heart.
Archetypes
Playing out archetypal roles has been hugely helpful. In the ritual of Journey of the Heart, different Shivas would come to my goddess temple: Shiva as sinner, lover, father, lost boy, fool, playmate. I forgave a man by representing all the people he’d ever hurt. I had another cry in my arms. I was accepted by one for all the people I’d ever hurt, and I wrestled playfully with another. As the mother, the child, the lover, the goddess, the fool, the playmate, each meeting explored the role in the collective unconscious of what it means to be a human.
Playing out archetypal roles has been hugely helpful. In the ritual of Journey of the Heart, different Shivas would come to my goddess temple: Shiva as sinner, lover, father, lost boy, fool, playmate. I forgave a man by representing all the people he’d ever hurt. I had another cry in my arms. I was accepted by one for all the people I’d ever hurt, and I wrestled playfully with another. As the mother, the child, the lover, the goddess, the fool, the playmate, each meeting explored the role in the collective unconscious of what it means to be a human.
Witch
I didn’t get the witch wound. I don’t understand that feeling of persecution or feeling silenced for being a medicine woman, healer or witch. Not my vibe in this lifetime, though I have many friends who feel it keenly.
I didn’t get the witch wound. I don’t understand that feeling of persecution or feeling silenced for being a medicine woman, healer or witch. Not my vibe in this lifetime, though I have many friends who feel it keenly.
Crop
In the earliest days of learning about kink, I got an intense rush the first time I ‘punished’ my ex for his other women, hopping around clutching his ass after my first attempts with a riding crop. He never let me do that again.
In the earliest days of learning about kink, I got an intense rush the first time I ‘punished’ my ex for his other women, hopping around clutching his ass after my first attempts with a riding crop. He never let me do that again.
Lawrence
Exploring play fighting with a sexy gardener was fun for me. Yet playing out my DH Lawrence fantasy triggered someone else, and he had to leave the room. We got closer for recognising why.
Exploring play fighting with a sexy gardener was fun for me. Yet playing out my DH Lawrence fantasy triggered someone else, and he had to leave the room. We got closer for recognising why.
Red
Traffic lights work: Green - let’s go. The power of Orange to stop, check-in and readjust is phenomenal. The first time I called Red, and everything stopped, I cried for the times I hadn’t. And the time I had and was vilified.
Traffic lights work: Green - let’s go. The power of Orange to stop, check-in and readjust is phenomenal. The first time I called Red, and everything stopped, I cried for the times I hadn’t. And the time I had and was vilified.
Salvage
We rarely get the full attention, love and circumstances we need to shine. It’s easy to deny all the ways we need to be loved. What if you could really commit to asking for what you need and to bring what’s needed within a consensual container? What if we unlidded the box or lifted the magic carpet to see the salvage? What could we make of it if we weren’t so scared, cross or untrusting?
We rarely get the full attention, love and circumstances we need to shine. It’s easy to deny all the ways we need to be loved. What if you could really commit to asking for what you need and to bring what’s needed within a consensual container? What if we unlidded the box or lifted the magic carpet to see the salvage? What could we make of it if we weren’t so scared, cross or untrusting?
No
If I trust you with your boundaries, we can both relax. Let me know you can say no, make a choice, express a preference, and hear a no and not be offended.
If I trust you with your boundaries, we can both relax. Let me know you can say no, make a choice, express a preference, and hear a no and not be offended.
Goldfish
Listening to men matters. I once took part in a ritual where women sat unobtrusively at the edges of the room, goldfish bowl style, overhearing a men’s circle of voices. Gently witnessing each man sharing their own journey through sexuality, shame and freedom. Patriarchal conditioning screws everyone over.
Listening to men matters. I once took part in a ritual where women sat unobtrusively at the edges of the room, goldfish bowl style, overhearing a men’s circle of voices. Gently witnessing each man sharing their own journey through sexuality, shame and freedom. Patriarchal conditioning screws everyone over.
Razor
In a good relationship, you’re each working on yourself and on the partnership; it’s there to help you grow; a way to enlightenment along the razor’s edge.
In a good relationship, you’re each working on yourself and on the partnership; it’s there to help you grow; a way to enlightenment along the razor’s edge.
Gaze
The first time I experienced Soul Gazing, Great Spirit gave me a partner I’d chatted to briefly the previous day. We’d exchanged a brief kiss, sharing a piece of mango. I’d felt an electric shock go through me at the mango lips. Sitting in front of me, sarongs on, we Namaste’d in, soft tantra music in the background, silence between us. Gazing at each other gently. I smiled weakly for a few minutes and dissolved into tears. Gazing at him, I cried tears for all the things I hadn’t known, hadn’t allowed myself. I cried for myself at a life of achievement but little intimate pleasure. It’s the first time I’d ever been vulnerable like that in front of a man, crying for fifty minutes of the soul-gazing hour. I snivelled and sobbed, and he gazed at me with softness, his presence unwavering, occasional tears in his own eyes. We Namaste’d out to close the structure. I snivelled in the group closing circle. As we left the workshop, he gave me his number.
The first time I experienced Soul Gazing, Great Spirit gave me a partner I’d chatted to briefly the previous day. We’d exchanged a brief kiss, sharing a piece of mango. I’d felt an electric shock go through me at the mango lips. Sitting in front of me, sarongs on, we Namaste’d in, soft tantra music in the background, silence between us. Gazing at each other gently. I smiled weakly for a few minutes and dissolved into tears. Gazing at him, I cried tears for all the things I hadn’t known, hadn’t allowed myself. I cried for myself at a life of achievement but little intimate pleasure. It’s the first time I’d ever been vulnerable like that in front of a man, crying for fifty minutes of the soul-gazing hour. I snivelled and sobbed, and he gazed at me with softness, his presence unwavering, occasional tears in his own eyes. We Namaste’d out to close the structure. I snivelled in the group closing circle. As we left the workshop, he gave me his number.
Ladder
There’s a time when we may realise that not only do we have our ladder up against the wrong wall, but that it’s in the wrong foundations; that our fundamental beliefs about who we are and how the world works are blinkered and limited conditioning. These moments of truth are turning points in our lives, raising questions of new beliefs and directions. How do we find our north star when it’s not what we used to aspire to?
There’s a time when we may realise that not only do we have our ladder up against the wrong wall, but that it’s in the wrong foundations; that our fundamental beliefs about who we are and how the world works are blinkered and limited conditioning. These moments of truth are turning points in our lives, raising questions of new beliefs and directions. How do we find our north star when it’s not what we used to aspire to?
Lilo
The overwhelming feeling that there’s always more to do flummoxes me. What to do? How to stop? Especially when what I’ve chosen is broadly satisfying. It’s the bloody life admin. I have a friend who thinks all the creatives should be allowed to float around on lilos dreaming, while all the people who love the order and minutiae could get off on that.
The overwhelming feeling that there’s always more to do flummoxes me. What to do? How to stop? Especially when what I’ve chosen is broadly satisfying. It’s the bloody life admin. I have a friend who thinks all the creatives should be allowed to float around on lilos dreaming, while all the people who love the order and minutiae could get off on that.
Fake
“You don’t have to like everyone, Alison.” Another of my Tantra teachers' fine phrases, which, although maybe stating the obvious to you, wasn’t to me. The wave of relief at the simplicity of that understanding saved me from having to be craven to a woman my ex wanted to open up our relationship to. He did it anyway, but I was spared having to fake compliance. I left that to her.
“You don’t have to like everyone, Alison.” Another of my Tantra teachers' fine phrases, which, although maybe stating the obvious to you, wasn’t to me. The wave of relief at the simplicity of that understanding saved me from having to be craven to a woman my ex wanted to open up our relationship to. He did it anyway, but I was spared having to fake compliance. I left that to her.
Lofty
I love plain English and despair at artifice. A couple of my recent bugbears come from the sudden guru nature of the overuse of phrases such as ‘I’ll speak to…’ or ‘I’m pointing at …’. Since when did ‘I’m going to talk about…’ become so elevated or lofty? It’s the same with the two-sentence paragraphs and pauses in AI writing, and phrases like ‘let that sink in’…’ which come over as extraneously portentous or self-importantly solemn. As well as being quickly unoriginal.
I love plain English and despair at artifice. A couple of my recent bugbears come from the sudden guru nature of the overuse of phrases such as ‘I’ll speak to…’ or ‘I’m pointing at …’. Since when did ‘I’m going to talk about…’ become so elevated or lofty? It’s the same with the two-sentence paragraphs and pauses in AI writing, and phrases like ‘let that sink in’…’ which come over as extraneously portentous or self-importantly solemn. As well as being quickly unoriginal.