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Embodied Feminine Power

by Stephanie

Several years ago, I went to live in an eco-village in Southern Portugal. I was there doing intentional work with an amazing group of people.  We did a lot of healing work with the earth, learning and practicing permaculture and cutting-edge irrigation techniques.  The community in this village also practices ethical relating, with a central emphasis on radical honesty.  It was just the sort of thing that fit with my own spiritual practices and commitments, and I loved it there.

Orgasmic Meditation & Feminine Power

I had a brief but intense relationship with a man there. He shared about Orgasmic Meditation (OM) with me.  I was fascinated, and I wanted to know more.

My first workshop was in London. I loved the space the moment I walked into it; the energy in the room was fantastically powerful. I did a female-only class, and listening to these dynamic, grounded women was extraordinarily powerful.  In so many ways, what I heard them say was stuff I had heard before. I had studied anthropology and ancient matriarchal cultures, and I had tried many spiritual modalities. However, though the language was familiar, the way these women owned their words was different.  They weren’t discussing feminine power in the abstract.  The power radiated out of them.  They lived and embodied the power.

Because of scheduling issues, I didn’t have my first OM in London. I had it in New York a few weeks later when I was in America on business.  I went to another workshop, and I met a guy who had time when I had time.  The next night, I took the subway downtown to his apartment. I laughed to myself on the way.  Here I was, a young woman in a foreign country, going to the apartment of a man I barely knew in order to take my pants off so that he could stroke my clitoris – all without any sexual or romantic involvement. I wondered what the people on the subway would think if they knew.  I felt absolutely safe and confident, which was more about trust in the OM process than in this one particular man.  I knew it would be safe.

Transformation Through OM

My first OM (short for Orgasmic Meditation) was nothing short of transformational. In some ways, the stroking was similar to what I’d experienced in Portugal, but now I had a container and an understanding – and that made it exponentially more powerful.  Lying on my back in this man’s apartment, I felt awe at the sense of trust openness, and mutual responsibility that I sensed.  I felt almost giddy with power, except it wasn’t a drunken, wild giddiness as much as it was a controlled, continuous, accessible one.  It was wonderful to surrender to the process.

One of the most difficult things for me to learn was how to be comfortable with giving adjustments.  Instinctually, I wanted to raise my pelvis or shift my hips to get the stroking just right. I didn’t want to ask for it.  I know my body pretty well, so I know how to move to get what I want. I was frustrated – and then I realized that I had spent my whole life trying to fit myself into someone else’s plan.  It was natural to try to adjust my body to the finger rather than asking the man with the finger to make a change for me.  I did this same thing in every area of my life, with my family my friends, and my co-workers. I tried to make things work for me without asking them to change or to hear me.  Giving the adjustment wasn’t just about getting more sensation – it was about finding my voice.

Embracing Adjustments

I got married a few years ago.  My husband is an amazing man, but for a long time, I’d never let him make me a cup of tea. I love tea, but I like it prepared in a very particular way.  I’ve had people try to make it for me, and they never do it right – so I always insisted on doing it myself.  My husband asked me recently if he could make me a cup of tea, and I grew agitated. I played out the whole scenario in my head, one in which he wouldn’t do it right, and I’d have to correct him or pretend that I was satisfied.  I could envision his frustration and disappointment when he didn’t satisfy me.

Every fiber of my being wanted to tell him, You’ve got to let me do this myself.  Instead, I took the leap to trust he could learn and that he had the strength to hold the adjustments.  I let him make it.  The tea was pretty good, but it wasn’t quite like I liked it.  I told him what was missing, and we’ve been working on it, one kettle of water and one adjustment at a time.  It gives him pleasure to please me, and it transforms me to let him do this simple thing for me.

I haven’t OMed in a long time, but the lessons stay with me.  I can ask for what I need and ask for “the finger to meet my body” in countless unexpected and important ways.

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