Tears, touch and a journey
It’s an auspicious night to start a blog. Rosy glow over the city skyline, mountains deep purple and outlined in orange, lights just blinking on downtown.
And this morning I had the good fortune to spend an hour on my own massage table, blessed and caressed by the loving hands of my friend, another sacred intimate. It felt so good I wept – this is how I long to be touched! This is why people pay us! Damn this feels good!
Don’t know why I should be, but I’m often surprised by the deep feelings that come up when something is so good. Tears, I think, for all the times when it wasn’t. Tears because I relax enough not to hold them in any more. Tears for old beliefs on their way out. Tears just for the hell of it.
So – is this blog going to be about tears all the time? No, not to worry. But it is going to be honest, and I’m in the midst of some changes in my life, and changes tend to require letting go of old things, and letting go of old things tends to bring tears, for me anyway.
God, I have let go of some things in my life! I said to a friend the other day (through more tears) that it seems that my curiosity and my passion for following my own growth, as it reveals itself to me, has cost me more relationships than I can count. Well, I was in the midst of crying, so I was exaggerating. I probably can count them. And actually, there were probably other contributing reasons why some of them ended.
But it does remain that my own growth propels me forward in ways that have many times surprised me, and are not easy. Certainly not this year. And that there have been partners who were not interested or willing to grow in some way that I was, and I was not able to not grow. ‘I can’t not do it’ I said to this friend. ‘I can’t not grow and change’. (more tears)
And it remains that I would not trade it for anything. I came of age in the 60’s, when everything was topsy-turvy. There were some who managed to remain with tradition, but for the life of me, I can’t imagine how. Once the door of change was opened, and I escaped from that paradigm, there was never any going back. Each discovery led me to another door, which opened to a field, which led to another continent. (some would even accuse me of another universe altogether – ‘same planet, different universe’ were his words)
So this evening, looking out over the rosy sky – oops, it’s already dark now – I reflect on what brought me all the way from a scrawny kid in pigtails to a mature sexy woman whose passion is helping others discover the depth and power and joy of their erotic potential. A woman who touches and holds and caresses and instructs. A woman who listens to doubts and secrets, kisses tired eyelids, encourages timid desires, honors and touches the most private of places. And in this way wipes a few tears of others and discovers more than she ever dreamed of.
Well, really, discovery would be it. My passion for discovery is what brought the scrawny kid all the way here. And that is what I hope to share with you in these pages. I can’t not do it.