I write a lot, I teach a lot about worship.

Yoni Worship, Lingam worship.

Touch and massage as a form of worship.

Touch as a sacred expression.

Worship of your lover, in pleasure, in breath, in their eyes, in your words.

It is my desire to worship my lover, in so many ways.

To serve her, to give to her, in love, in pleasure, in possibility.

And when I think about what it means to worship your lover, and I think of what I’ve written, and teach, and the way I’ve done it.

It’s always been in the context of slow, of gentle, of soft, of quiet.

And I think about my lover, and I think about me, and I think about all of us.

There is fire in her, in me, in us.

In all of us.

There is desire in us.

There is darkness and shadow.

There is anger and rage.

There are parts of me that are erotically savage.

And to worship is about all of who we are.

It’s not only in the soft and the gentle, not only in the ‘spiritual’ touch.

Because the spiritual is all of who we are.

There’s a digression here.

It’s about a term that’s become overused and lost its meaning.

Goddess.

The way its been used in many spiritual and spiritual sexual circles, workshops and festivals has made it lose its power.

The Goddess is not all Light and Love, Cacao, Ayahuasca, Squirting.

The Goddess is fire and anger.

As much as she creates, she destroys.

As much as she is tender, she sees through to the truth of who we are, through the veils, the illusions.

She’s not interested in being liked.

She’s interested in truth.

And in worshipping a woman, it’s all of who she is.

In her love, in her anger.

In her power, her joy, her tears.

The altar of her body, her heart, is the water and the fire, the earth and the wind, the stars and space.

The power that brought this world into being, and the power of darkness.

Worship is holding the space for all of who we are, all of our sacred selves.

I see my Lover’s fire, and I kneel before it.

Then I stand in it with her.

And the touch, the kiss, the words, in the fire, are not gentle, they’re not soft, they’re not quiet.

They’re a roaring, growling, sweating heat.

They may not be ‘nice’.

And I’ll worship her fire, her rage.

I’ll drink her tears as sacred nectar, as much as her Amrita.

There’s only one way to do this.

To offer ourselves.

There’s no other way.

To offer ourselves with humility, with openness.

For worship is an offering, I offer myself to you you to me, that we experience ourselves, in, through, with each other.

In every way.

And as much as the gentle, the soft, the quiet, is worship.

As much as looking into your eyes and seeing the peace there is, so it’s looking into your eyes to see the fire.

As much as it’s the tender caress of your body, your Yoni, it’s also holding you in the fire of passion.

For worship is the space of possibility, of presence, of love.

And Love is all of who we are.