{*Did you know you can write on Elephant? Here’s how—big changes: How to Write & Make Money or at least Be of Benefit on Elephant. ~ Waylon}

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It’s everything. And it’s in everything.

It’s the force that animates all of life, all living beings, creatures, and nature.

It is nature. It is life itself. The generator. Always humming, creating, accumulating, and appreciating.

It manifests through us all.

We are instruments. Hollow. And God, Spirit, Mystery, is the great conductor. We are played by Spirit moving through us. Playing us, our own unique and exquisite song. All of our stories. The Art we craft, and the Sex that we orchestrate in the chamber of making love. These are all the languages of soul’s expression.

We are Spirit’s playground.

When we are young, our sexuality and creativity are boundless. Simply spontaneous expression. It is pure and anchored in innocence. It is wild and free, and pours out of us in every texture, hue, and form imaginable. There is no separation from this limitless Source. Only openness. We are orgiastic, and orgasmic, an expression of God.

Yet slowly, day by day, and year by year, we begin to become self-conscious. Conscious of the smaller self, the person of us, the differences between us and others. This creates a split, and curdles into a separation within ourselves. We look outside of ourselves with separation-tinted eyes.

Comparison starts to arise. Judgement. The dualities of “right and wrong,” “good and bad,” “too big and too small,” and “too much and too little.” We look outside of ourselves and find that the painful states of needing permission, validation, and approval tarnish our innate and innocent spontaneity. We wonder if we’re okay, if we’re even lovable. We ask in silence if we’re allowed to be, to express, to exist. We begin to mute who we are just in case.

This split into separation within creates an inner flavor of guilt. Of Sin. Of Poison.

The greatest poison of them all? Shame. Shame for who we are. Shame for the pleasure of living. Of loving. Of feeling. Of imagination. And this shame, the ultimate destroyer, draws us in with its gnarled and twisted claw. Beckoning us toward death and destruction, perhaps merely a tint and hint at first. Pressing us down and in. Oppressing, repressing, depressing, and robbing us of our life force itself. Often, this leads us straight toward ill health. And we may not comprehend why this is happening to us.

It’s not too late to return to innocence.

But this does require of us a fortitude, and an embrace of courage, vulnerability, and willingness. The desire for something more. Something remembered deep inside our bones.

Making art. Making love. Art. Love. Art is an expression of love. Of being in a state and grace of flow. In the now. Oneness. It is non-linear, often nonsensical!

A void, chasm, a landscape of limitless potential and possibility. An infinite horizon. The kiss and taste of the Divine.

How is your relationship to your sexuality and creativity? To your lover(s) or partner(s)? To your life and the world? To your Self? Have you forsaken this true intimacy and pleasure, looking outside for what is rightfully yours?

The force of our life, expressed through our sexuality and creativity, is the greatest electricity ever. It is the hum of life. It flows. Sometimes, it is ravaging, strong, awesome, like a storm. Gushing and ripe. A mighty hallelujah and a trumpet-blowing celebration. We like it like that!

Yet, we forget cycles. Of life. Of day and night. Of the seasons. Of the moon. Gifted in the womb of those born in a woman’s body. We forget the greatest cycle of them all, that of the life, death, life wheel, forever turning, playing the whole of creation since the beginning of time itself.

We are afraid of Death. The not knowing. Gone. The void.

And yet our creativity and sexuality are part of this wheel, and so they too have their own cycles, their rhythms endless waves ebbing and flowing within us, like breath.

Yes, we like the grand dramatic frenzy and rising crescendo; in fact, we are quite addicted to that part. Yet, sometimes we are in the “death” part of our cycle, and not remembering what is ancient and of nature within us, we pull away, judge, and separate. We feel broken or wrong. And we head straight into shame’s closet in avoidance, bitterness, resentment, and frustration. We pull away from our partner and life. We perpetuate the pull toward separation.

Can we learn to lean in instead? And it is a learning, and will always be so with each breath and every heartbeat. Can we learn to listen? To Pause. Become quiet. Have patience. Trust the low tides.

This is the greatest intimacy. Learning to stay with ourselves. Learning the ways of our own cycles, each of ours as unique and different as our fingerprints. And this staying with? Well, this is love. This is what it means to love. We learn to do this for ourselves, and, like a muscle of loving, we learn to strengthen this with our lovers and our life.

Why? I believe the fuel of these forces is desire. Yearning. Longing. These are soul qualities.

Can we stay with, become intimate with them?

We are all so quick to give them away aren’t we? The quick fix. There’s nothing wrong with this. But it doesn’t sustain us. To stay with these forces of desire within us can be ours. Yes they are strong. Life is a hell of a strong force! But to learn to bear our life force means that we begin to bear the power of our sexual and creative forces too.

If we stay with them, become intimate, then we stay in the unknown. It’s messy. It’s a quality of not knowing. Of no control. Of Chaos. Of being willing to bear the force that is chaos.

Chaos is the realm and rhythm of all creativity and life.

Desire is connected to pleasure. The experience of the fullness of life. And we do this through the enjoyment of, and experience of, our senses. The pain and the pleasure. The joy and the grief. The agony and the ecstasy. Sexuality, creativity, and life invite us to inhabit all of these places.

From here, we can truly respond. A creative response. To what excites us, our Spirit, thrills us, turns us on. In ourselves and with another. The stimulus of life. Can we listen to the responses that are quieter? Make our playground richer?

What excites you? What rouses your Senses and Spirit? What heightens your aliveness? What quietens your mind? And what brings you right back into the arms of Presence?

Can we allow ourselves to be made love to by music? By touch? By the light of the dusk and the green of spring shoots? Can we give of ourselves back into reconnecting to God, Soul, and Love?

We need to be roused from our slumber. From sleepwalking through our lives. Roused from the dullness of a mind caught in poverty and unappreciation. Roused from the, quite frankly, masturbatory me, me, me of solo self-conscious navel gazing!

May we be reanimated.

May we surrender to our wildness and give more attention and devotion to the intelligence that move us, through us, and in us.

May we live on the edge. Where life is dangerous with dare, edgy with excitement. A state of being thrilled. And a true expression of our freedom.

Stop editing your creativity. Stop editing down your sexuality. Stop turning down the fuel, saving it for later or a special occasion. Stop censoring your voice, your expression, the absolute, limitless range of infinite potential of who you are. Stop, ultimately, editing your life!

Take like as your lover. Let it ravage you. Live turned on. And most importantly, never stop being in relationship with these parts of you. They are you. Let life open you and return you back to God!

Aho X

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