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The Yoni Dance

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A self-awareness story about life, love,
romance, and the intimate love arts.

Copyright  © 2001-2002   The Life Center   All rights reserved.     See:  Terms of Use

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Volume Two

Chapter Thirteen

The Same, Only Different 

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The Day I Found Out About Sex

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The streets are still pretty much deserted as I make my way to Georgio’s Café.   In spite of being up quite late the night before, I am, on this warm and sunny Sunday morning, up bright and early and sitting with coffee in hand as soon as Georgio’s opens for business.   Georgio himself isn’t even here yet because on every Sunday morning since long before I knew him, he’s started each Sunday at Saint Vincent’s Catholic Church.  

Once again it’s the morning after the night before and once again the world has changed — never to be the same again.   Actually, the world hasn’t changed very much, but I certainly have.   I’ve just walked down the same street I usually walk down each morning.   I’m now sitting in the my same favorite seat in my same favorite restaurant drinking my same favorite morning beverage, but absolutely none of that appears to me today as it did just 24-hours ago. 

As I sit looking at the sun hiding then peeking around the white puffy clouds which are drifting very slowly across the sky overhead, my mind wanders through the memories of a very pleasant yesterday and stops on Christina’s story about climbing Symbolic Mountain.   Like the ten-year old who climbed down off Symbolic Mountain, I find the village down here is just not the same any more.   Yes, the tables and chairs are still the same, the street is still the same, and the two attractive women sitting nearby in the restaurant are still very attractive women, but somehow, my perception of them and my perception of everything else is entirely new.   Translating that difference into words is an impossible task.   Conveying to you my feelings so that you may feel as I do is also an impossible task.   I will, nonetheless, as best I can, give you a hint of my experience.  

I look at Evelyn, Georgio’s waitress, a rather striking young woman who is aspiring to become an actress.   To me, she’s a new woman today.   She has shifted from a sex object into a fellow human being.   Her beauty is still there and is quite admirable, but the need in me to ogle that beauty has somehow disappeared.   I feel fulfilled knowing that naked female beauty, like the coffee in the cup before me, is available to me in abundance at almost any time I choose.   The sexual pressure is gone.   The sexual urgency is gone.   I have, at least for the moment, a taste of what Christina was talking about last evening when she said that once sexual fulfillment entered her life, peacefulness took over.  

I look up at the clouds and offer a brief prayer of gratitude for my newfound peace.   I realize that, like those with empty bellies can think of little else but food, my sexual status of unfulfilled drove me to think about sex even when other thoughts were much more important and much more appropriate.  

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Heart-Shaped:

As I continue to watch the clouds drifting above, I notice one cloud in particular that resembles the form we commonly call heart-shaped.   That focus triggers a question, “Why is this particular shape called heart-shaped?”   It takes a long stretch of one’s imagination to fill the gap between the form we refer to as heart-shaped and the actual shape of a physical, human heart.   I ponder upon how that particular shape took on its meaning.   In my space of gratitude, I decide to ask God, The Universe, my Higher Self, or whatever you choose to call “The Source of All That Is,” to provide an answer to my question.

As a result of my silently stated intention, the words that drift through my mind include the following:   “Dear God, thank you for giving me a broader view of what caused a non-heart-shape to become known as heart-shaped.”   I don’t really expect a voice to echo out of the heavens and shake the nearby buildings as it conveys the answer to me, so I just let that thought drift away with the heart-shaped cloud.

By now, I’m wise enough to know that the Universe works in mysterious ways so I shouldn’t have been surprised when about ten minutes later, I notice the answer to my prayer kneeling on the restaurant floor not ten feet away.   Did I not just open myself to “a broader view of what caused a non-heart-shape to become known as heart shaped?”    I laugh at my own words as I watch one of the two attractive young women at a nearby table.   She has dropped something and is now kneeling on the floor and reaching under the table for the lost item.

She is kneeling with her feet away from me and her head toward me.   Her derriere, wrapped in tight blue slacks, is high in the air and her head is very close to the floor when I notice that her broad hips, her slender waist and the cleavage of her rear end create an almost exact picture of what we commonly refer to as heart-shaped.   I stare in amazement and then start laughing to myself.

If a goddess were bowing before me and offering herself to me for my pleasure, what picture would I see?   I would see a vision similar to that which is right now kneeling before my eyes.   Would not this sight and the anticipation of the joys to follow make my heart beat faster?   If I were a kind and gentle man would not thoughts of love and gratitude fill my mind?

How might I symbolically and visually portray those feelings?   One way would be in the form of a visual silhouette of what my eyes are presently perceiving.   Of course, the sight of a woman bowing before her man are from days long gone.   Such sights date back to well before the days of old when knights were brave an bold and damsels not so brazen --  back to that time when a women, being under the authority of her man, might commonly bow before him as he, in turn, bowed before God.

As I watch, it becomes obvious that the young woman is having difficulty reaching the dropped item, so I, as a knight not so old, put on a small piece of my shining ‘amour’ and get up to offer my assistance.   She graciously accepts my offer of service, and so I slide the table away from the hedge, and then tilt the container of a large potted tree as she retrieves her lost item from beneath its far corner.   From my very close proximity to the goddess kneeling before me, the vision of the heart-shape becomes anchored in my mind.

She gets up with a broad smile and expresses words of gratitude that fill me with great joy.   She says, “I wish there were a way to repay you for your kindness.   That ring you helped to retrieve was a gift from my grandmother.”

I respond with, “My friend, you’ve already repaid me for my kindness.   The sight of you kneeling on the floor has inspired a piece for the book I’m currently writing.”

She responds with interest and says, “Would you care to join us and to explain that inspiration.”   I gladly accept and spend the next half hour explaining, first my version of heart-shape, second, my capacity and position as a writer, and then even the topic of the book itself.   I’m amazed at what’s happening and at the positive response I’m receiving.

First of all, I’m presently having a lively conversation with two very sexually attractive women, both of whom were strangers only a short while ago, and not only that, in an unassuming and socially acceptable way, we are talking about sexual sharing in the CLI Circle context.

What I find even more surprising is their enthusiastic response.   They request a copy of my book and offer to pay me for it now, to be delivered when written.   When I decline their offer of money, they still give me mailing addresses and two phone numbers and request that I contact them as soon as the book is available.   I agree to do so and give each of them one of my business cards.

All too soon, the conversation ends, the women are off to their day’s events, and I sit back and reflect on what has just occurred.   I marvel that my participation in the creation of this one book has already made such a significant impact on my life.   The book is still in the early stages of being written and yet, it’s already the focal point out of which I have created my growing relationship with Jezebel, my fantastic CLIC experiences, the potential economic windfall that the book will most certainly generate for me, a whole new way of relating to the world, and God only knows what else.   All this has come out of a simple agreement to write a book, which, by the way, I love doing.

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To Be as Little Children:

Once the two women are out of sight, my eyes again focus on the clouds above, and my mind drifts across my recent memories.   I remember Jezebel explaining to me how she receives money by following her heart. pink shinny bullet 13-1   I smile and think, “Apparently, I’m now onto that same track.”   In my mind, I hear her quoting words spoken by Joseph Campbell, the twentieth century’s most gifted master of mythology,  “Follow your bliss and the money will follow.”   I think to myself, “I seem to be doing a rather good job of following my bliss.”  

Then words attributed to the Jesus come to mind,   “Seek first the kingdom of heaven and then all else will be added onto you.” pink shinny bullet 13-2   and then I remember a thought I first heard when I was a very young child,  “Heaven is not a place.   It is a state of mind.”  I was only five years old when I first heard that line.   I still distinctly remember where I was and what I was doing at the moment I heard it.   I also clearly remember my response, which was, “Of course.”  

I begin to wonder how a five-year old could be that connected to God, when another line attributed to Jesus comes to mind,   “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child shall not enter it.” pink shinny bullet 13-3   Then I start to wonder how we as adults could be more like little children.

Little children are completely non-judgmental.   They have no shame about anyone seeing their naked bodies.   They are very trusting of those who are kind to them.   As babies, they’re all but fearless.   They express fear only in response to loud noises and the feeling of falling.   Young children don’t care what anyone else looks like.   They don’t care about skin color or eye shape.   They don’t care what any else is wearing or how long or what color someone’s hair is.   

They don’t care how old anyone is, what language they’re speaking, what country they came from or what religion anyone believes in.   They don’t care which neighbors are doing what and with what and to whom in their private bedrooms.   They don’t care what any long dead ancestors said or did.   Little children don't dwell on the past of fret about the future.   They're completely in the here-and-now moment.

To explore, to play, and to have fun is their first calling.   They scribble and babble and are curious about everything.  As they begin to become aware of themselves as separate beings, they take on levels of enthusiasm that most of us as adults simply cannot understand.   They are, by their very nature, filled with love.   They want affection, attention and acknowledgment.  They want to be loved, held, touched and cared for, and much to the dismay, horror, and panic of many parents, children are also inherently sensual/sexual beings right from birth.

I ask myself, how could I describe a child’s state of being in one sentence.   The sentence I came up with is, Children are joy-seeking beings.   So the next logical question is: “How can I, as an adult, be like a little child?”   In response to that question, thoughts of Jezebel instantly come to mind.   She comes the closest of any adult that I know to being a joy-seeking being.   I certainly have had much more joy in my life since I met her.

I ask myself,  “How was I joyous as a child?”   My mind drifts back to my younger years in Victorville and thoughts of Lydia immediately pop into my mind.   She was my childhood playmate in more than one sense of the word.   Again I watch the clouds as I allow the memories of Lydia to drift through my mind.   I see myself sitting in my little red wagon talking to Lydia on that eventful day when I first found out about sex.

I decide to write about that day, and so I get out my ever-present paper and pen and begin to make notes.   Sitting at Georgio’s, I create the first draft of the piece that follows, and, although it’s far from artistic mastery, it does express my former childhood state of mind.   It’s also poetic license to speak about unspeakable.

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My Little Red Waggin'     (The Day I Found Out About Sex)

My feet were still dragin' from my little red wagon the day I found out about sex.   We were out and at play when I heard Lydia say, "Come to the woods with me, and you shall see the first wonder of the world.   We’ll both drop our drawers.  I’ll show you mine and you show me yours."  

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As this story I tell, I remember it well.   We were back in the woods over near  ‘anties,’  the first time she lifted her skirt and lowered her panties.   Now, I have to concede, that place where she peed, I’d always known it was there, but just didn’t care, ‘cause I didn’t know it had uses.

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'til that memorable day I heard Lydia say, "When I touch me right here, I swoon and soon I feel really queer, and my thing, it gives me some juices.   And then said she, "Share yourself with me.   Drop down your drawers and show me yours."   "Well," thought I, " this ought to be fun, so let it be done."   And with a silly little dance, I giggled and wiggled, and shook off my pants.

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"You see your little thing here, it’s much more than a peer," said she.   Although it’s now hangin’ and waggn,’ it’s really a dragon,  saggin’ in disguise.  And like peas in your porridge, it’s just small for storage.   You can stroke it and make it full size."

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Then, said I, “This is all very new,  so what do I do.”   “I'll show you,” said she,  and sat down facing me;  “We'll do it right now,  and I’ll show you how.”    Just touch yourself here,  and you too will feel queer.   Yes, that’s what to do,  for five minutes times two.   Now stroke and strum,  and watch me too,  as I play with myself while looking at you.

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Well, lo and behold,  a true story she told,  ‘cause my little thing waggin’ became a standing-tall dragon.   My face flushed with heat and my heart ran fast beat, We wiggled,  we giggled,  we watched,  and we played,  and soon I began to feel funny.

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Then suddenly, out of that morning,  without any warning,  my feelings went reeling, and a freight train rolled over me.   And when I’d recovered, I new I’d discovered, a new vocation for me.   "Oh great joy!" I exclaimed, as I proudly proclaimed, "This is more than profound;  it's Like Grand Canyon first found;  I’m king on the mountain;  my cock is a fountain;  this is fun,  non fattening,  and free.”

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Many times since then, perhaps a dozen times ten, we shared the great joys, of each other’s sex toys; and although I’m full grown,  and many women I’ve known, I delight to remember that day in September when I first found out about sex.

End of Chapter Thirteen ---  The Same, Only Different 

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Christina asked me last night how I came to choose writing as a profession.   

I don't know how normal this is but the family I grew up in had their own share of prejudice and bigotry.   If you marry one of them, don't bother to come home.

The Judeo-Christian Guilt Trip:

You've probably heard the lines, "What the government gives it must first take away."  and   "There's no such thing as a free lunch."   My interpretation of those two statements is that they are a form of the basic law of physics and philosophy which says, "For every effect there is a cause and for every cause there is an effect."   

In other words, you may not have paid for lunch, but somebody else still had to provided the required goods and services.   The same applies to government.   You may have received a free product or service, but the government first had to acquire the goods and/or service form someone else before it gave them to you.

What I didn't realize until recently is that the churches do exactly the same thing.   Only they don't deal directly in physical things

End of Chapter Thirteen ---  The Same, Only Different 

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 Take Me to Chapter 14 -- It's Action Time

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pink shinny bullet    Is Personal Success Coaching for You?    pink shinny bullet    Experience  Timeless Truths & Wisdom    pink shinny bullet

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pink shinny bullet 13-1   Book I, Chapter 5, The Of-Course Foundation.  

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pink shinny bullet 13-2   Paraphrased from the Christian Bible: Mathew, Chapter 6, Verses 32-33.

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pink shinny bullet 13-3   From the Christian Bible:  Mark, Chapter 10, Verse 15.  

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The Yoni Dance

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Copyright  © 2001-2002   The Life Center  

All rights reserved.     See:  Terms of Use

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Yoni Dance - Book Two - Chapter Thirteen 

   The Same Only Different

http://www.yonidance.net/yd-bk-two-ch13.html

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