Linda Cohen's Luminous Lotus Blog

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

XO

Photo: Queen of Cups by Linda Cohen


Blog: Fast Forward to June 26th, Sort of sunny Sunday 9:26 am Postulate #1: Most mortal men can’t handle a Living Goddess. Even the Gods may fumble.
Postulate #2: Goddesses like US are soul-shakers…..rattle rattle rattle bang bang wake up cluck


Carlos Nakai’s Native American flute-fans the Morning Glory-blue sounds of awakening peace in my cool temple bedroom. Now it’s to clear my head from last night’s bad preview at The Cherry Lane Theater and the two Grey Goose that followed on a sweltering night in Gotham. Rose pink, lilac, and Moroccan fig votives emit precious essential oils from India and Nepal. Sri Lanka. Far Far East. This inter-dimensional temple in which I live and aspire to practice peace (which sometimes looks like war), soothes and uplifts me ever. Mirrors me….Sometimes new-born tigress tame. Sometimes a wild woman crazed and running with the wolves inside and out. Scorpio rising. Mars in Scorpio. South Node Scorpio. Phoenix energy! Put in the cosmic mix, three eclipses this June month and stir consistently and vigilantly.

(1) Got a call from an old friend of 50 years past. She, long suffering, and in the midst of the “big shift” reappears in my life. Also this current month of June: (2) I met with a first cousin (who “found” me from my website) and with whom I feel in sync and larger-family hopeful; and (3) the lovely, now 25 year old, daughter of a unique former lover (15 years I haven’t seen him or her) in Sweden contacted me from the heavenly hue of true and lasting butterfly connections! Amazing time of sync and sharing. Solar returns. Reconnections. Lettings go. The silent perfect Tibetan sand mandalas wiped clean upon completion: nothing lasts for ever where all is flux. Form is Emptiness. Emptiness form.

Mentoring many with the healing flower essences, Nature’s vitamins for the emotions. Already missing my Goddess Circle goddesses, but grateful for the summer break for more writing, dancing, biking, zoning out and in adventures and new yoga practice. Namaste. A new Tarot deck, The Cosmic Tarot, with only the Queen of Cups face up on my alter. It’s time to review and synergize new flower essences and gems… as so fast are the spinning energy spirals of the ethers ebbing and flowing through ALL Creation, one must keep up, or at least make the valiant effort.

Guess what? Mr. X has down and disappeared (but, I notice, logging on, not from checking his jdate site obsessively? I only check mine on Sundays since I’ve witnessed the addictive nature first hand). No call, no word, no scratch of an email, hieroglyph, carrier pigeon, nor any snail mail Hallmark card graciously bowing out. Bow. Wow. Nada. Limboing for one romantically unsolid week. Finally! Eureka! I get it this time. THE LESSON: I’ve been a willing, no deliriously happy, erstwhile “victim” to the mans’ rules regarding extra-us sex…..A ruse, disguised as flattery and offered as proof of impeccable integrity and honorable character! (Him: “I never cheated on my wife!” Him: “When I get into a relationship, AND I REALLY! LIKE YOU… it has to be monogamous”. And him: “I only have one girlfriend at a time.” And him: “My wife never cheated on me.” And directly into my disbelieving hazel eyes…”.Why didn’t you fight for the relationship?” (Who is X talking to?) As if I were his ex-wife or latest dropout Barbie Doll?) Me: vis a vis early Sex in the City, veritably crooning, “You are truly the heterosexual holy grail.” Handsome, appropriate, sports car, boat! sexy and monogamous!…feels like winning the internet-dating lotto. ching ching ching

I thought I was being so free-thinking and independent, after we’d begun dating, (though I did think it odd that he told me “weekends are for the boat”) - does the boat miss him during the week? But, I figured, there’d be plenty of time to work out schedules once we got some time in under our belts, right? Meantime, keeping my life right on track, skipping no dance nor yoga nor drumming class, no goo goo eyed excuses, from me, for not visiting my mom or granddaughter Bee… really staying better than on track in my own life, choosing days and times and places X and I might meet that would work for me (a switch)…. but for this one fucking blind spot. I always put forth visions of male/female equality, to the men I start dating, before they give me their monogamous hip hop rap…. I say outright that dating/fucking other people is fine. Hello! Safe Sex…Both for the goose and the gander. And I always buy a brand new pack of high end lamb skin condoms, ready, willing, and able to serve…..and always I get the “no no no no princess” from the man. “I want US to be monogamous.” And – “no no no. No condoms needed. For ME, doll, one girlfriend at a time. I’m clear.” So up pops the question of the HIV test, which the last three men I’ve dated told me pistil blank they’d just had the test and all is well, better than well, they basically have superman blood. What do I know? Evidently, little. In this arena. But I’m learning. Men will say anything when struck by Cupid’s golden arrows of desire, entranced by a woman’s golden sparkle, or the conquest of a new vagina. Maybe it’s in their sexual DNA? But haven’t we evolved at all in the 21st Century, as time is rapidly coming to an end (as we know it)? Can’t relationships be honest and free. Is it only fun for the guy with a butter cream lie? Where have all the flowers gone? Who is killing all the bees?

But the big DOUBLE CROSS was already in play, and I, again, The Hanged (WO)Man, suspended in a bubble of fantasy and rose-colored frames. In the short time X and I had our flirtation, 28 days less or more, I (encouraged by his visions of vastly more pleasurable sex) had a full frontal Brazilian twat waxing (it’s only hair, hair which better not grow back gray!). “Take risks,” “Go for it,” he egged-faced me on. So. Ok. And? Now I’m box-bald, itching and not enjoying sex more with him. Or myself. So what! I did it. For me. And I’m glad for the new exotic experience even though it killed. May even continue the art and upkeep of the sacred entrance to the tunnel of love, desire and ineffable sexual secrets.

The time is one of full expansion. Fulfilling of potentials. So what’s a little clean-shaved vajayjay while progressing on The Path. The Heart Sutra. The Cult of Isis. Priestesses of Ochun? Following Inanna’s return from the Underworld? The depths of my own Living Goddessness….O Kumari you are my muse!
These date ‘em, mate ‘em and uncreate ‘em match or jewdate addicts don’t fancy getting our gnarly pubic hairs in their perfectly pre-whitened and expensively Vaniered choppers, and have such degenerated eyesight that they, they claim, “can’t really find things down there in the bush with so much heavy camouflage” (a direct quote). There’s DANGER down under in the jungle, the threatening amazon foliage of sweet fragrant gardenia juices and Secret Garden FDS summer tangles. And of course they brag about their own hair-tamed and perfectly groomed prized lingams, but natch! They never take Viagra! And they can always cum. Hum. Ho.

Well. Well. Well. (The I Ching says one must penetrate the Well completely.) Holy of Holies. That’s what we Goddesses are. - I believe - labyrinths of hidden jewels and Yeshe Tsogyal Lotus petal rainbow fountaining nectars of Kundalini bliss wheels. And here’s the disconnect, these allegedly squeaky clean aspirants, and apprentices to the Goddess, request immediate rsvps for monogamy…Butt as I found out later, they’re monogamous with about five other lovers too while your waiting in your wings. And just a few months, weeks, or even a fortnight down Route 69 - they have more outside (you) obligations than Obama. When will we wake up to smell these oxymorons? And take back our power!

NOW. Practicing the dharma, I witness, I watch, I wait, I do not judge nor lie in ambush (with a laundry bag of dirt to toss on them). But come on. Where falleth I? in his well-crafted entirely him-centered formula of work, workouts, former wives, children young and old, cars blowing up and jealous boats? Alone! With my Louise Hay healing affirmations and Buddhist loving-kindness practices. That’s where.

O. Me. NOW TAKING RESPONSIBILITY. Victim no more! What’s an open-minded, sexy, free-spirited, soulful hot cool scorpionic dakini to do? Become cynical? Remain a victim of abuse? Swear off men. Not this living goddess. I keep flowing and flowering in the flow.
Conclusion drawn: I will date who I want, what I want, where I want. I will decide with whom I choose to be exclusive, when the time is right. I will always have an adequate supply of Natruallamb Luxury Condoms, Extra Large and Lubricated on hand, so to speak. Sex is sexy if it’s safe.
And to Mr. X…I say, “Y? Can you find no means to heal your defects. Y not? I remain O Circle of Life. Flower of life. O la la. So X….Ta ta”.
Essences: I am using HH Bach Walnut to break the link of the vajayjay trap and for psychic protection; Pegasus Et A Ceti Starlight Elixir (I need some new info from my star-sisters); FES California Peony for luscious femininity; Gypsy Goddess Metatron for unity: Dalton’s Queen of the Meadow for being in my power; lots of lilies, especially FES GRACE. And long-standing FES Manzanita and Pretty Face and Alaskan Blueberry Pollen.

I Am A Holy Being. I Am A Living Goddess.
Joy is everywhere. Madonnas wear Betsy Johnson.
As I release the past, the fresh, the new, and the vital enter.

Photo: Secret Garden by Linda Cohen

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