Yoga Me Sexy

Super Moon Sexy

Posted by on Oct 14, 2015

A full moon rises over the red walls of Utah’s Desolation Canyon bathing me in light. Insomnia brought me down to the Green River in the middle of the night but my soul is keeping me here. My husband sleeps in our joined sleeping bags at the top of this sandy beach camp. The other couple who joined us on this eight- day desert rafting adventure are tucked into their tent. I have the river, the moon, the canyon and the expanse of this beach campsite all to myself. I don’t even consider going back to sleep. I fetch my water bottle and sarong and settle in for some sexy insomnia. This year’s trip has been unseasonably warm with blue-sky, windless days in the 90’s.  It’s been bikini warm…   … the sun so intense,  I’ve had to cover myself in SPF clothing and a wide brim hat most of the time. The canyon now radiates the day’s heat making our camp so balmy that I am perfectly comfortable in my black lace camisole and matching boy shorts. The moonlight isn’t going to burn my Irish skin, so I peel away my lace to better feel its ethereal glow on every inch of my bare skin. I sit crossed legged on my sarong and let my tailbone and sex nestle into the sand beneath the soft, worn fabric. I feel so held. My hands grab opposite wrists as I circle my arms up and around to stretch the muscles of my shoulders and torso that have been striving to match my man’s paddle strokes that are so much stronger than mine. I breathe in rhythm with my arms’ orbit for several cycles before my awareness drops to the soreness in my lower back. My hands come to rest on my knees. I continue to bring the circle of the moon into my body as I stir my spine around and around the thick brew of my pelvis. I lie back on my sarong and pause for a moment to luxuriate in this sensation of  being so deep within the earth’s embrace. The canyon walls are like the arms of a mother, a lover, or both, that cradle me in the warm sand. My legs bend.  My feet dig into the sand.  The front of my hips lift up towards the moon for bridge pose.  My heart begs to follow.  I place my hands on either side of my head and lift up into a backbend. A warm breeze flutters across my breasts, my belly and between my thighs. My stance widens, inviting it, inviting her, deeper.  My bud quivers from the caress. I am a red stone arch.   I am a rainbow.   I am a woman opened and full like the...

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Sexy Sun Salutation

Posted by on Nov 19, 2013

Yoga is such a sensuous practice.   If you don’t believe me watch this.  Enjoy~      ...

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Orgasmativity Part II

Posted by on Jan 9, 2013

Are you reaching your orgasmic potential with life? I didn’t even know I wasn’t. I’d always loved sex~ the physicality, the intimacy, the sharing of pleasure. But I wasn’t very orgasmic until I started doing yoga regularly.  In March of 2000 I attended a month-long yoga teacher’s training at the Kripalu Center For Yoga and Health. And then, wow. For me there are so many reasons why yoga increases orgasmativity:  improved body image; increased confidence and self esteem; increased tone and blood flow to the pelvic floor, genitals, G-spot and clitoris. (Check out this post for more on the sexy benefits of yoga.) On top of all that, contemplative practices like yoga, meditation, tai chi and chi gong engage you deeply in the present moment and increase your awareness. Tastes are more luscious. Colors become more vibrant. Sensations, like the velvety softness of your lover’s lips, are heightened. You become more sensual. When I learned to quiet the constant chatter of my critical, thinking mind, I felt like I gained access to the rest of my brain: the creativity; the intuition; the ability to hook into something so much bigger than myself. I felt giddy, like that bliss of falling in love. And that is exactly what was happening. Through yoga and meditation I fell head over heels in love with life. And that energy attracted my man who was also getting quiet and going deep (and running whitewater and skiing avalanche chutes) and then Wow! I started writing erotic memoir. So it doesn’t matter if you are single or in a relationship, you can increase your bliss and orgasmic potential, by slowing down, getting contemplative and having a love affair with yourself. When you learn to appreciate the gift of every breath, you also realize the wonder of having a physical body, so much so that you eventually quit judging it.  That shift hooks you into something hugely sensual, spiritual and sexual that we can discuss more next week because I could go off on this topic for hours and I’ve taken enough of your time already Besides I’ve just convince myself that I need to get on my yoga mat right...

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Om Me Sexy

Posted by on Aug 2, 2012

Last winter I started having orgasms on my meditation cushion.  So of course,  I started meditating even more. There were a lot of contributing factors, too much to go into in a blog post (oh how I love to tease!) but  don’t worry, I captured it all in great detail for my memoir. I submitted the essay to a women’s erotica anthology so you’ll get to read it somewhere someday soon. I find it fascinating that one of the sexiest things I do is… not much at all. Outwardly, meditation doesn’t hold a candle to visually arousing pursuits such as hooping or belly dancing (which I tried last week and ooh la la! I got completely seduced.) But inwardly nothing else can compete. Because turning off the mental chatter and tuning back into your body and breath heightens awareness. And awareness is a rich, black compost for cultivating sexiness. Awareness catches me when I’m all hunched over my laptop and reminds me to roll my shoulders back, straighten my spine and breathe. Good posture is sexy. Awareness quiets my Inner Critic so I can click on that ‘Publish’ button every week for this blog.  Confidence, as Sexy Survey #1 concluded, is ultimately sexy. Awareness heightens all my senses. I start to appreciate the honey-colored beauty of the dried grass along my running trail after weeks of not even noticing it. I become amazed by the decadence of a single strawberry. Being sensually engaged in life is the definition of sexy. Awareness quiets my Inner Catholic Girl who’d rather hide in a baggy T-shirt than wear a torso-clinging halter top. Embracing your curves is sexy. Besides, after sitting in meditation for twenty to thirty minutes, your body will want to stretch out on the floor and do some yoga.  Check out this post, if you don’t already know how sexy that is. Sexy Tip: Plant a seed this summer to explore meditation this fall and winter.  Let me know what sprouts.  If you already meditate, do you agree with me?  Do you get off on life more when you are sitting?  Anyone else having clit-quivering orgasms in the throes of...

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Sexy Metta

Posted by on Jun 21, 2012

I knew this would happen some day. I’d be scheduled to show up as an erotica writer and my Cancer crab would show up instead, the part of me that needs to crawl into my shell and hide, claws waiting to pinch anyone who gets too close. But I couldn’t retreat into my shell last weekend.  I had signed up to read my yogic self-pleasuring essay at the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival. So the inner dialogue last week looked a little like this: The Crab: I can’t think of anything worse than stepping up on a stage and showing myself like that. I’m not going. The Erotica Writer: Don’t do this to me. The Crab:  I’m tired from work and I really need to be alone.  I don’t know what to wear.  Seattle is six hours away.  I’m not going. The Erotica Writer:  Don’t fucking do this to me. Thankfully, on Friday night The Yoga Teacher showed up. She peeled off my work clothes and guided me to sit naked in front of my meditation alter.  She opened the windows and invited a warm breeze to caress my skin as she lit candles and whispered a modified version of the loving kindness metta in my ear, over and over again. May I be filled with loving kindness May I be well May I be peaceful and at ease May I feel sexy She honored The Crab with all that quiet darkness. She honored The Erotica Writer by reminding her of the very essence of the story she was scheduled to share, a poetic essay about embracing the sensuality of the self through yoga. She guided us through a gentle vinyasa flow. It worked. When I stepped on that stage the next day in my magenta batik yoga pants, black spaghetti-strap tank and vintage suede boots (that unlike last year, fit as a tight as a glove) I felt empowered, sexy and excited to share my work. I was still nervous, unaccustomed as I am to being in the spotlight on a dark stage reading about masturbating in front of an audience.  My voice and legs only did that adrenaline tremor thing for the first two paragraphs and then mellowed out.  This is progress. But the point is…I did it. I showed up for The Erotica Writer. And now The Crab gets to scurry into this cool, dark, new moon...

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