Clues: Adoration, Creativity, and Sex

A big part of why I write this blog is to explore my own path of trying to make love with life, experience the spiritual side of sex (and the sexual side of spirituality), and a lot of that happens when I start looking for clues.

Where might the answers be?
Lots of places.

I found another one!

I was watching Layla Martin’s video about the secret to being an awesome lover. (I took her online Sexual Mastery course. Really great stuff- I promise to review it sometime!) In it she talks about how she – and other tantrikas she was on a panel with – have been complimented on their blow-j0b skills. She shares the deeper secret that great blow j0bs – and great love-making in general- are great because of adoration.

When we’re with someone we adore, our lovemaking becomes much more focused, pleasurable, and enjoyable for everyone. We want to give pleasure to someone we adore, and that gives us pleasure in return. And that makes sex better. Even spiritual.


two naked people and their hands in a close-up of sensual interaction


I was considering this concept of adoration in my own life. I have been given the same compliment, and it is absolutely because I adore the person I’m with (or have been with). That adoration of them, their body, their breath, their eyes, their being makes the sex -and blow j0bs- amazing.

My husband made mention about this a few weeks ago. He said, “It was like you were worshipping me.”
It felt that way because I was.
Adoration is not that far from worship.

So, yes, being a great lover is about adoration. 
Adoring who you’re with.
Adoring what you’re doing.
They feed one another, I believe.

That is one clue.

But as I kept thinking about what Layla had shared, I was also realizing that I don’t just adore the person I’m with when I’m having sex (and especially when giving a blow j0b). I actually like giving oral sex.

Oh my god. I’m admitting that.
I might as well admit that I’m the Sasquatch, too. (A mythical creature you’ve only read about…)

Now, certain circumstances apply: feeling safe, being emotionally connected, adoring my partner.
If those are not present, no one’s getting their rocks off. (Not me, not him, not no one.)
But after that? Hell, yes!

And what I realized about my enthusiasm for oral sex is that I love the CREATIVITY.

I think pretty much any human – man and woman – will tell you that the tongue is the best sexual organ ever.
(You know I’m right.)

And part of what I dig about oral sex is that there are so many ways to be creative.
So many tools.
Hands. Mouth. Tongue. Teeth (if you’re brave and careful!).
The palm of the hand. The tips of the fingers. The tip of the tongue. The soft lips.
Pressure, heat, swirls, slides, taking it so       very       slowly…..

There are a limited number of things you can do with orifices.
But mouths, tongues, and hands? Infinite possibilities!

And those infinite possibilities excite the hell out of me.

I think I figured out I love creative sex.


Now, take a breath. Calm down.

Because this might be about blow j0bs and adoration and creativity, but it’s also about figuring out what turns us on.

If adoration and creativity turn me on inside the bedroom, then those are probably what will turn me on more in my outside-the-bedroom life.

That’s what those clues are really about.

If I want to make love with life, to live sensually, then I think adoration and creativity are going to have to play a bigger part in what I do, how I live, and how I approach life.

This is not to say that I’m going to, guns blazing, start being all creative and adore whatever I do. My life is busy and I only have so much time to focus on change. But these are clues. And they are helpful clues.

They’re going to get me to what I want.
Small steps.


If you want to have enjoy life more, take a small step and ask yourself: what is it about sex that is so amazing? Connection?

Look at your life, and figure out how to get more of that.




The Laughing Heart

The Laughing Heart

by Charles Bukowski


your life is your life

don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.

be on the watch.

there are ways out.

there is a light somewhere.

it may not be much light but

it beats the darkness.

be on the watch.

the gods will offer you chances

know them.

take them.

you can’t beat death but

you can beat death in life, sometimes.

and the more often you learn to do it,

the more light there will be.

your life is your life.

know it while you have it.

you are marvelous

the gods wait to delight

in you.


[yes, they do, my friends. the gods wait to delight in you.]




The mind I love must have wild places…

forest with creek running through it some daylight


The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody’s fathomed the depths of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind.

   The Journal of Katherine Mansfield (Knopf, 1927)


A friend sent me this quote a month or so ago. She said it reminded her of me. What a compliment; I shall accept it.

Because it is exactly true: the mind I love must have wild places. If you want to run with me, you’ll have to let yourself out of your cage. If you cannot escape your bonds, for even a little while, then you cannot come with me.




The Silent Language of the Holy

There comes a time, in every spiritual practice, when your own gunk (or ‘shit’ as we sometimes call it) begins to come up.

When I wrote Morning Pages (a practice developed by Julia Cameron in her book, The Artist’s Way), there came a time when, after sitting down and writing three full pages of what was in my head, I realized it was all ugly stuff.

Anger at my mother.
Frustration with my job.
Turmoil at home.

Those themes, and others, filled my pages for weeks and weeks.

Not knowing what was happening, I quit writing Morning Pages.

Several years later, as I began to meditate regularly and with consistency over time, the same shit would come up while I sat.

I’d breathe in and then breathe out.

And then I’d get all pissed off at my mother.
Or work.
Or the state of the world and how poorly we treat each other.
Sometimes fears or frustrations would rear up.

Having been down this road once before, I decided to get curious, rather than getting freaked out.

I found several good resources and writers who informed me: this is the way of the spiritual path.

When you enter into practices that help you calm down, connect with yourself, and become reflective, eventually your shit shows up.

And it shows up because you have created the time and space to work with it.

Which seems a bit ironic to the newly initiated: “Awesome! I’m getting all spiritual! And calm! And accepting! But, wait, ’cause…fuuuuuuuck! All my shit is chasing me! How does that work?!?”

This stuff that shows up in your spiritual time- it’s the stuff your spirit needs to work with.
It is the work your soul needs to do to heal or to be free.

You can avoid working with it- you can quit the practice, you can quit spiritual development, you can find another practice (over and over again) to avoid getting in the dirt with yourself. You can stay pristinely spiritual for as long as you want. (Your whole life, if you like.)

But if you want to get anywhere- if you want to grow- you will eventually have to confront the ugly that comes up.


Today in my ecstatic dance practice, for the first time, the ugly started to come up.

When I dance I often close my eyes and see colors. (It is ecstatic!)

Today, on one side of me, was a beautiful light. It was an oatmeal sort of color, beigey-white. But it was lovely and warm and actual light (not opaque like real oatmeal).

On the other side of me was a blue light. Deep navy. It was more opaque, but also filled with light. Like a navy blue curtain with the full sun behind it.

As I began to dance and turn towards the oatmeal-colored light, I started to sob.

I don’t know why. I only know that there was a deep sadness brought up by the light and how my body moved in that moment. The twist of my body, the color of the light; the tears flooded.

And so I kept dancing and crying.

My logical mind tried to pin it down:
Did it have an old memory tied to it?
Was there a person associated with it?
Was someone else feeling this?

There were no answers. There was only the fact that I felt this light and needed to cry my eyes out.

If anything, this need to cry felt very old and deep.

It was wordless. And it was a part of my holy practice.

It was something utterly sacred that needed to be expressed and experienced.
And it had no words.
It had no form, other than my body and my crying.
And it was holy.


a cloudy sky with dappled sunlight


This experience reminded of another reason why sex is sacred: there are so many moments in the midst of lovemaking when our body needs to move a certain way, or we crave a particular touch, stroke, or sensation. We desire to move and to be touched in a way in which our logical mind does not understand.

The spirit is asking for release.

There are times when a lover touches us in a certain way and we want to cry, or laugh, or howl, or surrender- and there is no reason for it. It is something energetic – perhaps our spirit – finding its way out.

I think this kind of experience might be especially true and poignant for men. We women, so connected to our bodies, given so many words for our feelings- we have other ways to let things out. But men, they have limited avenues for expression. Their body is a container for so many things, hidden. And in sex they can relax the mind out of its logical stance. They can twist the body and have it touched – physically, emotionally, and spiritually – in ways that allow for true release and expression.

That is the holy of holies.


After dancing and crying today- crying about what, I am not sure; just something that need to be cried- I was kind to myself. I went and laid on the bed and finished crying. I let my body go as soft as I could and just breathed.

I let it be, in the quiet.

I don’t know what happened, only that it felt finished.
There came a moment when it felt finished, and I let that be, as well.

I finished my practice, went about my day, and wrote this to you.

Perhaps it will help someone. Perhaps you.




A General Theory of Flirting

Ohmygod, I love a good theory. I love to look at things, find patterns, and then see if I can explain them by a theory (of my own, or someone else’s, creation). Fun!

Theories are gorgeous to me because they explain things and leave room for little ‘what ifs’ (well, the good ones do, anyway). They are both steady and flexible. And I like that!

Anyway…on to today’s post.

So, as I have been discovering my sensual self (and there’s more on that to come!), I have started to think about how sensuality and sexuality are connected. And how they are not connected.

Many, many people only find their sensuality through the sexual doorway.

My sensuality coach helped me figure out that sensuality is its own land, and I can get there without sex. (Which might feel like a big ‘duh!’ for you, but was a surprise to me. Most people, I think, only encounter their sensuality through sexuality.) So, the point is that sensuality and sexuality are connected, but they aren’t the same.

But as I was thinking about where the two overlap, I started thinking about flirting.

You remember flirting, right?

It’s that fun place where you smile or wink or giggle as an expression of your happiness with life?

It’s an opening to joy, when you get down to it. But we also use it as the opening for sensual and sexual expression.

Think of it this way, you can flirt with anything: babies, dogs, the barista, a beautiful work of art.
But, quite often, we flirt with sexual intentions.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

I was cogitating about flirting as part of expressing my sensuality.

I wondered, “is it okay to flirt just for fun?”
“If I’m bringing out my sensual self, is flirting a workable way to do that?”
“what does it mean if I flirt with a woman?”
“what does it mean if I flirt with a man?”
“what would my husband think and feel if I flirted with someone else in front of him?”

And that last question made my brows super furrowed.

What would it mean to flirt with another person to whom I might be attracted, if I’m already partnered?
Is that even okay?

I talked with my husband about it.
He (brave man) admitted that it might feel weird to see me flirting with another man, even though he knows our bond is strong.

He was pretty sure he didn’t feel personally threatened, but more that our relationship might be threatened if I flirted with another man.

We started to pull this idea apart, because it made us both curious.
What was it about flirting that was so potentially threatening?

– – – – – – – – – – – –

What we came up with was this:
in modern American society, flirting has the potential to lead to fucking.

How’s that for a theory?

It goes like this:

If I flirt with another person,
and because flirting is so heavily connected with sexuality
then I might be signaling sexual interest (not just general joy)
which might lead to attraction
which might lead to interaction
which might lead to fucking.

I know it’s kind of a long step between those last two points, but I hope you understand the space and the steps between them.

Part of the theory is also this: that flirting will inevitably lead to fucking.
There’s no way around it. If you flirt, chances are, you’re going to fuck.
One nearly always (and perhaps, instantly) leads to the other.

And so, if I’m not allowed to fuck other people (that’s one of the rules in our marriage, anyway)
and because flirting could lead to fucking
then flirting is threatening to my marriage.

So I shouldn’t flirt.

It’s weird, huh?
And maybe it isn’t true for everyone, but I bet a lot of relationships operate on this theory.
If you look, you’ll touch; so don’t look.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

There is some research to back this idea up. In her book, Sex After…, Iris Krasnow talks about hook-up culture and how that is conducted- as efficiently as possible, via text.

If you want to hook-up with someone (and for those of you in Gen X or earlier, ‘hooking up’ means sexual relations of some sort or another) then you text them with a general question, like “what are you doing tonight?”

And if the person answers the text, you’re likely to get laid.

That’s all it takes! Answering the text!

(I think this is crazy, can you tell?!?)

I can see where people get the idea that if you flirt, you’ll fuck.


oil painting of one young man flirting with two young ladies, who are seated on a bench near a bowl of apples

Nice apples, wanna f-ck?
(It’s an old SNL joke…)


What this theory leaves out, of course, is that flirting can be perceived as completely innocuous.

No harm intended.
Just an expression of one’s fascination and inspiration with Life.
A wink of mystery; a wide grin; a little rub of the arm in thanks for an excellent tea latte.

Flirting can just be a little drop in the pond of sensuality.


I asked my husband, could he see it that way if I flirted with other people? (Men people.)

He said he could, but that it would take clear communication from me, and I would need to understand that maybe he might need a little relational reassurance the first few tries.

That seems fair.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

An interesting point about all this, for me, is that some of the most spiritual poets flirted all their lives.

They flirted with the Divine.

(Not a few of them made love with the Divine, but I don’t think that is the same as fucking. Although, I’m not sure on that, either!)

Some of them flirted with women and men in their community.

Some of them flirted with their patrons for decades.

(This I do not think is crazy.)

Imagine this: flirting and sending poetry and gorgeous, magical letters to each other for decades.
Never consummating (although it did happen for some).
And yet, all the while, being the vessel for the joy that is flirting.

Decades of joyful flirting.

Flirting that did not lead to fucking.
Flirting that was satisfying in and of itself. 

That sounds like fun to me.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

I think flirting is a great practice for developing your sensuality.
I think it’s also a great practice for figuring out where the line between sexuality and sensuality is.
I am guessing I will have to cross back and forth several times as I enjoy and practice flirting.

I want to see if I can prove the theory wrong.

To flirt just for the joy of it.


Wanna flirt with me? Leave a comment and let me know what you think of my theory!
Or contact me…ooooh, fun!