Posted by on Sep 19, 2018 in CranioSacral Sexy







The tug of war between my healing artist and my literary artist is alive and well.

So, when you don’t hear from me for a while, it means my craniosacral therapist won, and she’s taken the rope and tethered my erotica writer to one of her beloved aspen trees.

Photo by Jules Smith

It means I’m journaling instead of blogging; meditating instead of marketing my erotic memoir; and channeling inspiration into my treatment room instead of my next erotica collection.

A few weeks ago, some nerve pain in my hands landed me on a treatment table in my teacher’s office. I was anticipating a four-day, Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy training with Thomas the following week, and thought I’d prepare myself by getting a session. Mid way through the treatment, while Thomas was cradling the base of my skull, I heard a voice inside my head whisper, Let’s not do this anymore.  Let’s just stop.  

I’ve listened to that voice before.  Once.  I was at Esalen , the first day of a four- day Somatoemotional Release Craniosacral training (I’m totally fascinated, okay, addicted to these trainings).  The teacher had warned us at the intro the night before to pace ourselves.  So when I when I found myself the next morning on a treatment table with a physical therapist named Jerry holding my left hip, and a chiropractor named Jeff cradling my head, and an earthquake building at my sternum that felt like it was going to split my heart chakra wide open, I gently placed my hand over Jerry’s and said, “We better stop.”

“Yes, probably best,” he said looking relieved.  “I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do with that.”

To use a rafting metaphor, I walked the rapid. But to this day I’ve always wondered what would have happened, what I would have learned and healed, if I had gone for it.

So when I got to the Class IV rapid in my head on Thomas’ table a couple weeks ago, before I even had a chance to determine if that whispering voice was one of intuition or fear, I got out of my own way and just allowed, which meant I went for it, it being a facing-scrunching, tear-dropping release in my intracranial membranes that was simultaneously excruciating and fabulous as I felt the painfulness of being human intertwined with the magnificence of it, and the poignancy of both unfurling inside my head.

To say it was fucking intense would be putting it mildly.

With craniosacral therapy, the session begins when you get off the table. I won’t bore you with all the details of the layers, mind, body and spirit, that unraveled, but my strategy of getting a session from Thomas the week before a course with him so I wouldn’t be releasing and processing during the class totally and completely backfired.

Which means right now I am so grateful to finally be on the other side.  The nerve pain in my hands is gone and so is the annoying lower back and right hip pain that moved in this summer.  I can feel a curve in my cervical spine again. A self-righteous grudge that had nestled into a dark little corner of my heart got illuminated, released and was freed up my ancestral line. My latest grasp of this work is that not only do we inherit say, the blue eyes and freckles, but we can inherit the behavioral patterns and unhealed wounds of the souls of our ancestors as well.

I call upon the angelic energies of my father and my ancestors daily to watch over my family and friends. I’m in contact.  I guess they figured I was up to the challenge of healing a few of the souls who came before me as I healed my own.

It was my turn to be the angel.


This isn’t easy or sexy feeling, this soul work.  At times I felt like I was stuck up to my chin in a muck pit.  But now that I’ve clawed my way out, I can feel the wisdom of having jumped in: the deeper I go into my own healing, the deeper I can take my clients and the greater access I have to inspiration and my writer’s voice.

My healing artist is now settled into the shade beneath a canopy of golden aspen leaves, resting with the satisfaction of a job well done.


I have cut the rope that kept my erotica writer out of the way.  Back to sexier endeavors! Like this blog.

From what I’ve read about blogging, I know I’m supposed to be consistent and deliver up sexy, entertaining content for you on a regular basis.  And I will try my fabulous readers, because I so appreciate you coming to visit and sharing this sensuous journey. Unfortunately, I’m not one of those consistent, balanced people. I tend to swing high and low: write like crazy for two weeks and then rip the plug out and read novels in bed, do yoga and meditate for the rest of the month.

But I’d really like to shift that.

So I’m giving myself a new vision.  Instead of the tug of war, maybe I’ll throw the rope over a high branch and make it into a swing.

But I know myself, I’ll swing too high and fall flat on my face.

What I need is a pendulum, like the ones the energy workers use to see if your chakras are open or closed. I have this purple crystal that my acupuncturist suggested I keep in my pocket to keep me grounded when I’m in my treatment room.

I’m going to imagine it hanging above my life, dangling not from a rope but from a sparkling silver cord,slowly and  gracefully swaying in a beautiful arc from literary arts to healing arts.

And the hand to hold it will be my father’s. He was a hard working, happy-go-lucky Irish man while he was in this realm.  He knew how to excel and enjoy.  He’s got this.

Rock me steady, Dad. Like a cradle.

Sexy Link:  Here’s something sexy for you: Check out the pleasure positive podcast  Clit Talk







  1. Beautiful! I think every creative soul out there will relate to the ups and downs of inspiration and meditation. They seem to go hand in hand, don’t they? I’m inspired by knowing that it doesn’t all have to be one or the other, but a gentle combination of both. For me, it’s family life, travel and adventure with writing and introspection. Sometimes I feel way off center, but your idea of a pendulum – knowing that each will have it’s moments of clarity – is very calming. Thanks for sharing CC.

    • So glad you can relate to the metaphor. May your pendulum sparkle and radiate prisms of light all over your keyboard.

  2. I think I could use some craniosacral therapy!! I love your blog. Thanks for writing.

    • Thanks for reading and commenting. Come to Colorado. I’ll give you a craniosacral session 🙂

  3. I think I need that therapy too! I have IT band and knee issues that have moved in. And grudges to release. If it makes you feel any better, I released the need to market my memoir. I occasionally feel guilty about this, but it started to feel like just another chore in a long list of them. And I felt deeply uncomfortable selling myself. So I see my little books like agates on a beach…just waiting to be discovered by the right people.

    • Hey Mary, how sexy to find you here! Do you remember the last chapter of Seduced By A River? Had I written it yet when you read the manuscript? It’s about when I went to see a physical therapist while I was living in La Grande, OR. He rocked my world and changed it forever more. And you have access to him!!! And I bet your insurance will pay for it. David Ebel at Mountain Valley Therapy (541-962-0830). He’s amazing and worth the drive and the wait. He accesses so many levels~ he’ll release that IT band, the grudges, and your beautiful agates will start shimmering on the beach.

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