nBy Michelle W.
nnWhat if I stopped trying to be perfect. What if I stopped spending all of my time trying to plan what I am going to write here, so that it doesn’t come out dumb, a repeat, a replication, unoriginal, unimpressive, an injustice to my power and wisdom....well I probably wouldn’t have even gotten this far if I hadn’t. This is pretty good, it’s further out of my head than I was 3 minutes ago.nnYou know, I thought about writing about all the different aspects of my personality, all my defects and quirks, and how witty and vulnerable it would look for me to hang it all out. And I thought about writing a sad and dramatic monologue of letting go and finding the burning truth (hey that one still feels pretty appealing now), and I thought about a video montage of everyone talking about orgasm... And well, none of it got my very far past my own head.nnI heard this beautifully impacting quote in my 12 step meeting today, and while I’m not quite sure what will come after this, I know it belongs right here: “I’ve seen dinosaurs become small shadows by the grace of these rooms.”
nnSometimes it feels so potently obvious that I’ll grow up and lead the world into true liberation, or at least part of the world...And other times, well it’s a bit more like I’m buried underneath the hot covers, sheets wrapped around my ankles from sleeping like a maniac, reaching out to hit the snooze button just one more time.nnThe difference between the two scenarios is palpable. I can feel my skin tighten in goose bumps around my firm muscles, as my hair rises from every pore; my chest swells with fresh, sweet, glowing space, and I can feel the vibration of my cells humming three feet out around me. My feet plant firmly on the earth, my hands feel incredibly soft and smooth, and I can feel this bright, penetrating, wisdom streaming through my eyes. I feel gorgeous, and there’s this slight smile on my lips as I speak steadily and clearly without thought.nnRegal she told me. Someone I trust once saw through my layers, and she told me the woman in me is regal. And I know what she is talking about.nnAnd the maniac who’s wound in the sheets. She’s important too. She plays her role inside of me. I actually really like her, sometimes. Sometimes I get so mad at her, so fucking frustrated at her pace, her shitty attitude, her self-pity, resentment, rage, and indulgence. She’s never satisfied and LOVES to get attention for the unfortunate sufferings of her existence (here I go writing about the different aspects of my personality). And, she is my greatest teacher. If it weren’t for the stubborn struggle, I wouldn’t appreciate a damn thing about my regal woman. I might not even recognize her.nnFrom where I stand today, the Dinosaurs that have long since backed me into the fearful corners of my experience, are now slowly becoming mere shadows in the room. And I know, my shadow goes with me everywhere. That is actually the realization that brings me into a deeper acceptance of myself; that those pieces of me I wrestle with the most (my Dinosaurs), are the pieces I resent the most in others, are those pieces that I need the most to befriend (which is when they become shadows).nnThen what comes next? How do you befriend your shadow? Well if I think about my literal shadow...every time I turn around to look at it, it’s moved from my sight. I can’t exactly hide in my own shadow, or find shade from the burning sun in my own shadow. That’s the thing about shadows, they follow you around, ever so slightly out of your direct sight. What I CAN do is regard my shadow like a friend that never leaves me. And know that as long as the sun burns hot, it will be there, and the higher and hotter it burns, the closer that shadow is. What I also know, is that my shadow is so supportive it’s even willing to give me space after the heat of the day has passed. When the hot sun starts to come down and cool off, my shadow grows long and stretches far from my body. Here I can breathe in the cool dusk air and breathe out the high noon flames. When the pain of confronting my fears subsides, the ugly head of resentful anger softens to reveal tender gratitude and insight.nnWhat am I even talking about? And what does this have to do with OneTaste and OM? A lot actually.nnThrough out my life I have had countless opportunities to look my dinosaurs in the face and realize they are my very own shadow. But OneTaste is the first and only place that has offered me the option of actually befriending my shadow and still being approved of by the world. To let all the faces of my shadow be as big and loud as they truly are and take their right place in my expression of who I am. I never knew that the bitch, the arrogant asshole, and the scared-needy-child in me deserved love and freedom too. I always thought that the good girl and the over achiever were the only one’s who were supposed to run the show. I never knew that people would stay connected to me, or even like me, if those other parts of me lived out in the open. I’ve always preferred to keep them in the basement with the doors locked and deal with the occasional destructive prison break when it came. Orgasmic Meditation for me, is a practice of breaking that prison for good. It has slowly begun to unlock the doors of my own imprisonment through slow, steady, approving attention on my body and my emotions.nnOne of the places that it has taken me the longest to realize my imprisonment is my sex (yes my sex is a part of me just like the others) and desire. It has been as if there were a blind spot in my view of myself. And the more I OM, the more I clear the view, and the more clearly I can hear the inner monologue that has run me, 'If I let my sex and my desire lead the way, then I'll lose everything. I'll lose control, lose face, lose the boyfriend, lose the girl friend, lose reality as I know it, lose the safe walls of I'm -just-going-to-wait-one-more-day.' Yea of course I’ve let my sex out to play plenty in my life, more than most of the basement dwellers, and yet she has never spread her wings entirely. She has never taken full flight with out fear of being shot down or captured, she has never walked upon the earth with no definite destination other than her rightful existence. And the more I get to know her, the more I know what she wants. She wants to move in every possible mode and medium, proud of her hunger, carving a wake of permission as the wakes before her that she has followed.nnI can honestly say that OM has opened the gateway to this place for me; opened Pandora's box of wild, colorful, chaotic desire for everything there is and more. It has given me permission to let all parts of me live and breathe in some form every day. And my own dedication to my own practice gives me the ability to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if I am walking backwards and upside down some days (or stuck under the covers with the sheets around my ankles). I know for sure, one of the most important people in my life would not continue to play the amazing role she does for me if it weren’t for OM. We would have imploded from all the volatility that exists between us if we hadn’t learned how to transmute it through this practice. In fact, we have, multiple times, and again and again, the practice of OM and the support and community of OneTaste has ushered me from the wreckage, each time a little deeper into my own power.nnI am truly grateful for my Dinosaurs, and even more grateful when they become shadows that no longer run me, but stand with me. And I am truly grateful for a woman, Nicole Daedone
, who is willing to take on the weight of the world’s fear and skepticism; and
all the tireless people who are willing to stand beside her and serve a purpose greater than themselves: To be the permission for people like me, everywhere and anywhere, to be exactly who they are. Light and shadow, needy child, sex, bitch, arrogant asshole, maniac, regal woman, and all.nn nnOneTaste and the practice of OM are here to usher the people of the world into their true power: Desire. Our hunger to be seen as we really are on the inside, to feel connection, to have all the sex and nourishment we want; that is our power.