Striving for Balance: Delving Deep in Bali

A moment of thanks is in order for you, the reader, my friends and fellow yogis here in Bali, my teachers, my family and all those who’ve contributed positively to my life here in the cosmos. This was a densely spiritual week, lots of breakthroughs and awakenings. These are accounts from my perspective only, I imagine my friends have very special recollections of their own. This is just a piece of my weird little puzzle. So grateful for Bali, Yoga and Love.

Week two has come to an end. A wave of emotions as active as the coastal waters in Bali has sent me deep within myself, deeper than I’ve ever dared to explore at one time. I’m reflecting on the last 7 days (feels like mere seconds and also like decades) from my favorite cafe in Ubud, this quirky and creative little shop called Seniman (artist in Balinese). Having spots like this creates a feeling of home; conversations with the owner, staff and locals help to establish roots that I aim to strengthen even after I leave. It’s my fourth trip here this week, and while my fellow yogis may joke it’s due to the impossibly beautiful Balinese man who works here (and that certainly doesn’t hurt, I was born boy crazy and I may be very happily married, but I’m not dead, there is great joy in attraction and flirtation, and I always intend to enjoy that life pleasure), it is really this creature comfort I seek wherever I am in the world, a space to sit and be, to write, sip, chat and watch the passersby.

It is here at Seniman that I’m choosing to digest the miles of introspection I feel I’ve walked this week, where I’m absorbing the reality of where I am, literally and figuratively, and where I’m making sense of the peaks and valleys that continue to occur in this complicated but beautiful existence. In this second week here there were experiences of beauty and joy, exceedingly fun excursions and cultural events, combined with some very cavernous personal work inspired by the Chakras. Our teachers led, inspired, challenged and encouraged us greatly. They created a safe space to face exactly what we were feeling with courage and honesty, and it was because of their leadership and the energy they created that we were all able to surrender so deeply, and breakthrough so strongly. I’m so grateful for them and for this monumental transformation. I feel so cleansed and renewed, like I’ve done years of therapy and work in a matter of hours, and most importantly, I feel highly motivated to continue this progress in my days, weeks, and years to come. Here’s how it went…

On Sunday we kicked off our usual way, 6 am Neti pot, 5 Tibetans, pranayama (manipulation of the life force, breath work), and asana. We began chakra week with the Root/ Muladhara. We had a very grounding, focused practice, placing importance on our foundation, our alignment, our strength, so that we’d have strong roots in order to grow tall branches. Feeling connected to the feeling of home within, to our community, our families, our tribe, we all took a look within to see how balanced we were from the root. It had me craving ritual, tradition, even closer connections to my loved ones than I already have. Whenever I feel frazzled, confused and unsure, that is precisely what brings me back to perspective, to the moment, to the truth that all is well and most stress I experience is mind made. The more grounded I am, the more courageous I feel in branching out. We were asked very inquisitive questions, ones we then answered on paper with our non-dominant hand (an extremely difficult task for me as I tend to judge and berate even the most meaningless imperfections in myself, so ultimately very helpful and therapeutic). We planted seeds of intention and trusted in our healthy roots to support their growth. I’ve always felt very earthy and my first teacher training had me recognizing I needed the balance of space. Now, I feel I need to re-establish my firm roots so I may continue to grow in a balanced and healthy way.

Muladhara inspired asana

That evening we were honored to have dinner in the home of Agung, our kind and loving Balinese caretaker who runs Soulshine beautifully. We were able to witness first hand what strong rituals and tradition means in Bali, and how seamlessly it is lived in this country. We were given a detailed tour of his lovely home, learned of the many Hindu customs and ceremonies performed in the temples and villages, and got a small glimpse into how an extended family lives harmoniously together for their entire lives. We were taught how to create offerings by first making a flower shaped tray out of palm or banana leaves, then thoughtfully placing flowers (in the proper order) until you’ve made a vibrantly colorful piece to thank God for a healthy, happy existence. The woman of the house (usually) makes dozens a day. I found the commitment humbling and daunting; what loving, dedicated people. We were also exposed to another tradition: Balinese dance performed by Agung’s twin daughters. They were dressed and made up exquisitely, looking more poised and gorgeous than I could ever attempt, even on my wedding day. Each of their three dances were executed with precision and grace. The dexterity of their fingers, intriguing movement of their eyes, and overall detail was so impressive, especially for their young age. I was humbled yet again. We ate a delicious meal made with love, witnessed devotion and love, and felt nothing but love in the air and between us all. It was so perfect for our first chakra work, I’m so grateful for that whole day.

The next day the sky opened up, how befitting for it to rain on Swadisthana/ 2nd chakra day. This chakra lies within the pelvic bowl, behind the pubic bone, in front of the sacrum. Its element is water, the energy center being the source of our creativity, our sensuality and sexuality, and deeply housed emotions. It was also very appropriate it fell on a Monday, such a universally emotional day. I’ve always felt very connected to this chakra, I have almost an insatiable sexual appetite, I think of it early and often, I studied sexual behavior in college, I write about it now. I often feel very primal, very animalistic in my nature, and sex is the ultimate expression of that biological calling. But deeper than sex, deeper than creative pursuits, is the innate feeling of belonging in the world you live in, how comfortable you feel in being held, being helped, and being loved. I think I’ve always done a good job of appearing balanced but I’ve recognized through this inward journey that I’ve been far from it. I have no idea how to swallow my pride and ask for help without feeling guilty, insecure or ashamed. I’m embarrassed to share weakness, period.

That’s even tough to admit now. But the lesson I learned as I wept buckets of tears on my mat that day was there is tremendous beauty in vulnerability, and more than that, immense strength. It takes guts to admit you’re human, to admit you need love and support from others, and to open yourself to receiving it. Somehow receiving is an admittance to the need and my psyche always saw that as weakness. But I’d then repeatedly feel disappointed in my progress and would close myself off to the abundance I really wanted and clearly didn’t believe I deserved. Belief, something I encourage my students to hone in themselves, but remained a personal struggle within me. Do I deserve love, abundance, freedom, support? Yes. And so do you. And I probably distracted myself with sex and creative expression, neglecting the softer more subtle energy that’s so damn important in feeling balanced and whole.

We’re all in this together. I’ve understood the concept of Oneness intellectually for many years, experiencing bouts of knowing within the context of yoga and some deep personal connections. In order to reach Samadhi, eternal bliss and consistent enlightenment, one must identify and connect with that universal consciousness, the string that ties us all together as one worldly unit. Yoga by definition means union and I intend to accept the help and love I hope I give. I intend to share my vulnerability as well as embrace my passion and unique expression with a sense of innocence and adventure.

After a very emotional morning and afternoon delving into the 2nd chakra, we made our first trip to Seniman. I’d expressed earlier in our training that I’d always had issues with patience, mainly concerning my personal growth and achievements. I never thought I was where I was supposed to be, like I wasn’t working hard enough, doing enough to reach the success I thought I needed to feel good inside. My intention for the year of 2012 was patience. As I transition from Chicago to LA I must keep this grace so I don’t make important decisions with haste, but rather living from harmony, surrendering to the flow of life with ease. With tears in my eyes, I flipped over a goddess card after practice, the one pictured below. Another message from the universe to be water, fluid and luscious, navigating life’s wavy waters with humility, a sense of humor and acceptance.

Our ride into Ubud took an extra long time that day, the rain pouring down mirroring my inner release. What usually takes ten minutes took 45, another lesson in patience. We walked into the inviting open space of Seniman with relief and joy. We indulged in lattes and little sweet treats and struck up a conversation with the very dry, funny and interesting British owner. It was then I felt a masculine energy behind me, something I was drawn to but couldn’t see. A moment later I turned my head and there he was, a muse of a man. He walked and worked with this calm yet strong energy, in no hurry but wasting no time. It was in that second my tears dried up and I returned to my favorite part of the 2nd chakra, the orange light emanating from my pelvic bowl, a little sexual feast for my eyes and loins. Between missing my delicious husband (who’s secure enough not to feel threatened by my silly crushes) deeply, having an excessively emotional day, and the rain pouring down, that yummy treat was just what I needed. I felt cleansed, renewed and inspired from then on, thanks to Yoga, my teachers, my supportive yogis, my honest self reflection, and the tantalizing joy of desire. Yum, what a luscious, transformative day.

Svadisthana inspired asana

What a difference a day makes, and boy was Tuesday a different day. I awoke at 530 with some serious energy, like I’d slept for years or lost 40 pounds. I felt lighter, more alert, strangely more innocent, like I’d let go of this grown up filter and returned to my pure nature. I immediately loved that day, didn’t care how it went, a small transformation had taken over and I was not going back. Luckily, it was 3rd chakra day! Manipura, located in the region of the navel and solar plexus, this is the seat of our soul, simultaneously housing our ego and our essence. How powerful do you feel? How firm are your boundaries? Are you comfortable saying no? How about yes? The answer to these and many other related questions can be found here, in recognizing how balanced your Manipura is.

Our practice was fiery, befitting the 3rd chakra’s element, full of play and challenge, lots of arm balances and fun transitions. I loved it, it suits me. I am a fiery person by nature, very passionate in my personality, unafraid to emote or show strength. Naturally that is also one of my crosses to bear, finding a balance in strength and softness. I have a lot of power and yoga has helped build a ton of strength, but I need not find my confidence there. I shouldn’t lead with that foot. I often remind my students it doesn’t matter whether they can balance on their hands, twist into a pretzel or perform some challenging posture. It’s fun, it can be empowering to see where your body can go, but it says nothing of who we truly are, and it is a mere fraction of what it means to be a yogi.

My intention for balancing this chakra within myself is to find a delicate balance of when and how to say no. In my work, I’ve often said yes too many times, which is only detrimental to myself and the person I’m saying yes to because it is not sincere. What I’ve agreed to is soiled with a worried lie and therefore will not extract my best. It won’t foster a stronger relationship with the person in question either. A firm, tactful, nonemotional no is best. On the other side of the coin, I’ve often said no out of fear, the exhilaration of yes was too much for me to handle. Not wanting to showcase my fears and hesitations, or possibly make a fool of myself in front of others, I’ve kept myself safe many times, secure inside a no. This has improved majorly for me in the past few years, thanks to yoga and writing, reminding myself life is short and ultimately, the only person who cares if I mess up or fail is me. Empowering Manipura is about getting out of our own way, and that’s precisely what I intend to do.

To celebrate earth, water and fire, our teacher training group took a trip to Echo beach. The sound and rhythm of the ocean is so therapeutic, so restoring. It’s also tremendously humbling, watching the power of that natural force, witnessing the reckless order with which it crashes to shore. A fellow graduate student of mine, Kendra, mentioned a great piece of advice she heard in a hard time in her life, “if you’re concerned about control, try stopping a wave.” I’ve never in my life seen such active, large and gorgeous waves as I saw that day in Bali, a huge and consistent reminder that most things in life are out of my control. I can resist it, struggle, and stress over the unpredictability, or I can surrender and take power over what I can control: my attitude. The day was blissful, we explored tidal pools, climbed rocks, collected ornate shells, watched beautiful Balinese men fish and meander about, happened upon many dogs, cats, cows and horses, all on one beach!

Manipura inspired asana

We ate dinner sitting perched on a cliff overlooking the beautiful ocean, drinking coconuts and enjoying each other’s company. We left just in the knick of time to make the fire dance, a popular Balinese custom and tradition. That evening they told the story of Hanuman, the monkey god son of Shiva and Paravati we’d heard and read before. It was difficult to understand the story but entertaining nonetheless. Townsmen of all ages sat in a large circle executing this very primal chant, something none of us can execute still, but we’ll love and remember forever. After, we walked to the temple that stood strong out in the ocean. It was pitch black, the lit moon and stars creating an awesome silhouette, the ocean spray from waves guarding the temple’s entrance. We humbly backed away, enjoying only from a distance, the lessons from the past three days really setting in.

On Wednesday we dove right into the heart, Anahata chakra, the forth of seven, the bridge between the higher and lower energy centers, and a personal juggernaut for me. I know I am loving, I’ve always had a keen sense of compassion, but somewhere along the way the doors to my heart opened less and less, an armor hardening the way in. Still to this day I consider few people close and trustworthy. I believe most humans are good, well meaning, capable of love and trust, but few resonate deeply enough with me to let in. Protecting yourself from pain really signifies a distrust within your being. I clearly didn’t trust that I could handle disappointment, heartbreak or betrayal. But of course that isn’t true. I’ve handled it before and I can handle it again. And so can you.

Then there’s the difficult concept of worthiness. Do you accept yourself, good, bad, ugly, highs, lows, past, present, and every little nuance in between? Do you love you? It can be reflected in the mere acceptance of a compliment, many of us reject praise in that very basic way. Someone tells us we did a great job and instead of owning our positive piece, we dismiss the accolade and pick ourselves apart, sending yet another message to the universe that we are not enough, we’re still not worthy of the love and success we want. Somehow we often can’t see who’s standing in the way of our bliss because it’s us! We’re that barricade that’s withholding positive and loving energy to come in. And we are just the ones to lift it.

It is within that vein that I went into our practice that day, with a good honest look at who I still was, a well intended human being struggling to truly accept herself, to say I love you in the mirror and mean it. Our teachers really helped get us there and it was on that day and in that week that two postures which formerly eluded me finally found a home in my body. With heart opening you’re usually blind, just going for it sternum first, collar bones in a smile like Hello World! Here I am, I love me so someone out there is bound to as well. I had trust and belief as my foundation so the courage to love boldly naturally followed. Fact of the matter is I was born into love, from love, grew up surrounded by love and abundance, somehow married the most loving man I’ve ever known, living with dogs full of love, moving to foreign countries and finding more love, studying yoga and encountering more love, and then to big cities where I was blasted by love in all directions, from friends, yogis, animals, you name it.

So my struggle was not only in opening myself to the abundance and joy in my future, but also in truly accepting that I’d deserved the beauty I’d already experienced. Again, worthiness. And however subtle my insecurities and rejection of love might have been, that was echoing in the universe and it kept me glued to the same place. In order to transition and keep growing as a teacher and human being, I needed to recognize the big and small ways I was sabotaging myself and decide right then and there to stop. And so I am. I am loving. I am kind. I am smart. I am creative. I deserve love and abundance. So do you. There is plenty for all of us, plenty of love, energy, time, money. We must accept ourselves and open up to receive it. We can encourage each other along the way.

Anahata inspired asana

I returned to Seniman that afternoon and it was on that loving day my handsome muse gave me a little love in the form of a simple compliment, “you look great.” I smiled and said, “thank you, you look great too.” How fun! I totally was emanating an energy of love, of myself and the world around me, and however small it seemed, the universe responded. I saw my curly haired soul sister that night, we’d both purchased these lovely chakra necklaces from the local yoga shop, mine being the green Anahata, and hers being the blue Vishuddhi, for throat chakra, the 5th, the very one we’d be delving into the next day. We chose symbols that resonated with us, where we needed to grow, how we wanted to lead. Each chakra is important on the path to balance, but some carry deeper challenges than others. I’m excited to help my students open their hearts wider as my teachers have helped with mine. I’m going to love and pay it forward from this moment on.

Thursday, Chakra 5, Vishuddi. Here we find our voice, our expression, our truth, the center of honesty and purification. When balancing the throat chakra, I often think about how well I speak versus how well I listen. This is very easy to observe in others. We’ve all been around talkative people who seem disinterested in the stories or responses from others, only wishing to project. And we’ve also been exposed to those who sit quietly, preferring only to listen and absorb, something inside holding their voices hostage. It is pivotal to our happiness and well being to respect our own truth while accepting that same power in others. It’s very easy to hide behind shyness, to let fear cripple our throats. It’s just as easy to project strength and confidence through loud, boisterous talking. But neither of the above reflect authenticity, balance or love. We must own our truths and intentions and be unafraid to voice them, willing to release stagnant patterns and old, unhelpful conditions.

For harmony in the 5th chakra we must purify. Not to worry, nothing crazy is required, unless that’s you’re bag, and if so, keep on keepin on! A yoga practice full of throat, heart, neck and shoulder opening coupled with audible breathing, chanting and guttural releases really gets things moving in the right direction. Staying aware of your thoughts, when you bite your tongue, when you should actually shut up and listen, and when you should tactfully speak your truth will be an ongoing guide on your path to peace. It’s often helpful when speaking to ask first:
Is it…
Tactful
Helpful
Informative
Necessary
Kind?

If not, perhaps it’s best unsaid. Use your wisest judgment and remember to T.H.I.N.K., our communication is providing constant karmic feedback. Listen to it.

On this beautiful, airy day, our Mukti yogis set off on another field trip, this time to a sacred water temple, perfect for intention setting and purification. It was overwhelmingly busy that day, a sea of devoted Hindus crowded the grounds and temples. We walked in with sarongs unsure of our next move. We opted for a look around, choosing to stop as a small group for some stillness and meditation, and then one by one took a journey into the waters. An open trough filled with coy, the water temple was equipped with over ten fountains, one just a few feet away from the next, each pouring refreshing water back in. One soul at a time lined up and doused themselves clean, purifying an intention only they knew. Walking right in, clothes on, I patiently waited my turn to rinse. I set intentions for each, selecting personal challenges to overcome, choosing to accept myself as I was and as I am, moving forward only with love, ready to open myself to whatever lessons, abundance and joy the universe had to give me. It was so powerful! I had no idea how truly cleansing it would feel. I’ll never forget that day and each time I find I’m struggling with an intention, I’ll reflect on how I chose to seal it in. And I will not look back.

Vishuddhi inspired asana

Friday brought both challenge and triumph as we delved into both Ajna/ Third Eye chakra, as well as Sahasrara/ Crown chakra, our intuition and our enlightenment. We began that morning with the classical Sivananda program, a beautifully balanced practice consisting of the classical Surya A’s (sun salutations), first with one movement per breath, then rapidly to build heat and our heart rates. A mini svasana in between, we then continued with sirsasana/ headstand, held for roughly 3.5 minutes, breathing naturally as our teacher read us the accompanying codes, suggested moral guidelines to contemplate as you surrender into the pose. A series of well thought out counter poses followed, more mini svasanas in between, all culminating in a 30 minute yoga nidra meditation. Pure bliss! That practice was just what we all needed after a week of deep physical and psychological exploration. We needed the simple focus, to get grounded, recognize our strengths, re-cultivate our purpose and intentions, listen to the rhythm of our breath and hearts, watch our thoughts, move with a quiet ease, feel still. We needed to Be, and that practice was perfect.

That afternoon my buddy, Jen, fellow graduate yogi and sarcastic soul sister, and I went to Seniman (naturally). We shared their coffee dessert selection, a coffee granita, coffee ice cream, biscuits that pair well with coffee and lattes. As usual, everything was delicious, comforting, satisfying. We then walked around, perusing shops and bookstores, sweating under the Bali sun. Our favorite driver, Karge, picked us up around 4, and we took a very long, traffic filled drive back to Soulshine, passing the gigantic white statue of Arjuna, the many wood carving galleries, furniture stores, laundry shops, and Balinese motorcyclists until we finally, in the knick of time, made it back home.

Almost immediately after our arrival back on our mats we were regretting making it in time for our practice. Kundalini was rising and whether we were ready or not, it was happening. A fiery practice full of long, difficult holds coupled with breath of fire had us all digging deep into our selves. I endured it all next to my roommate and friend, the beautiful Yve, and we discussed later how we each garnered additional strength from the other. Somehow we made it through multiple rounds of camel pose, cobra and low boat for three minutes at a time, kapala bhati only deepening the challenge. During, our sweet, warm, loving teacher, Julie, was the perfect and ideal motivator. She consistently echoed how we can do this, we are stronger than our minds, and how persevering through this practice would show how we are capable of anything. Ain’t that the truth! Holy shit, I was humbled and also inspired by that entire day, I felt reinvigorated and steeped in belief for myself and Yoga.

After our exhausting practice we read a story we all took turns contributing to. We each wrote and drew a page, only having looked at the page before. What resulted was a sweetly hilarious tale of a young girl in search of herself. Over the course of the nearly 20 page saga, she went from a girl to a woman, back to a girl again, had straight blond hair, brown hair, curly red hair, and many personal triumphs each related to our independent endeavors and understandings. We all loved it, our cheeks hurting from laughing so much, our faces cleansed with tears. Week two was coming to an end, we’d be saying goodbye to three of our loving yoginis, saying hello to one more day off, with Kriya week looming in the coming hours. There was a strong sense of hanging onto the moment, of enjoying every bit of the fun, laughter and love we’d experienced together, and savoring all the goodness Bali had bestowed upon us.

Ajna/ Sahasrara inspired asana

The graduate yogis went into town that evening. Yve, Jen, Kendra, Lara and I were dropped off at the Namaste store (a pricy place full of crystals, malas, singing bowls, books and yoga inspired jewelry) and slowly walked down Hanuman perusing its many shops. Jen found what she was on mission for, Yve grabbed a cafe at Kafe, met an interesting artist named Joe, and then we call reconvened at the Yoga shop, our favorite place for all things yoga. After, we put our name in at Kebun, a restaurant serving delicious looking pizza, a craving we’d all been building for two weeks, a must have on that Friday evening.

We decided to walk around some more rather than wait for our table and in that 100 meters out from the restaurant, maybe two minutes in, poor Kendra falls into one of Ubud’s many holes. The street was dark, the hole almost entirely undetectable, and she quickly went in right foot first, about 2.5 feet into the earth, caught herself with her hands and leapt quickly back out. She suffered a gnarly cut on her shin, one that poured blood onto the side walk and across the street to the convenience store where we grabbed water, iodine and bandages. Kendra toughed it out with relative ease. Once we took care of her we had to attend to Lara, who was feeling quite faint at the sight of blood. It was pretty comical, we laughed a lot over our pizza and during our cab ride home. Another adventurous day came to a close.

The next day, today, Saturday, Yve and I opted for a relaxed day off. Our previous weeks and Saturdays had been full of adventure (read previous article if you’re curious as to our antics!), we craved a slow moving day that felt like we lived in town, just meandering about with the locals. That’s just what we did. After a tearful goodbye to Jen and Danielle, we set off for Ubud. We walked slowly around the streets, checking out shops as if for the first time. I got some little gifts for loved ones and then wandered into a dress store for a gift for myself. I saw this beautiful blue dress, long, sheer, with delicate white leaves weaved into the pattern. For the first time in my life, I tried on the dress and didn’t take it off. I paid and walked out the door wearing the dress. How fun!

We spent the rest of the day chatting, eating, sipping coffee, reading and writing at Seniman. At this point, we were seeing some of the same locals, getting recognized by the staff, and gradually entertainingly a few of our fellow yogis as they passed through. It was so fun! It still is. It’s been a very productive few hours and simply a fantastic day. It truly feels like we live here, and I just know how difficult it’s going to be to leave one week from today. Before those sad feelings creep in, I remind myself that everything in life is transient, every event and being has an expiration date, so without attachment I will enjoy this magical place and these magnificent people, happy for every experience that comes my way, not upset that it’s ending, grateful it happened to me at all.

Shanti, Love and Om Swastyastu

Be Primal

Warning: If you are my father, grandparent or one who is uncomfortable with sex…DO NOT READ FURTHER. I write this with love:)

Why ignore biology
Stifle intimacy
Fear
Of what
Unbridled ecstasy
Reality meets fantasy
A language of love and lust
Leaves you hanging in the dust
Stripped away
Left to decay
Why fuck tomorrow
When you can fuck today
Sex is a must
Move or you’ll rust
Yield and adjust
Feel and thrust
Let go
Be free
You can renew
Just be
In the moment
Out in the open
Don’t be afraid
Just get laid
It’s not a game
You can’t win
You won’t lose
Just choose
To fuck
Say so what
Let’s rumble
And tumble
Get in trouble
Fumble
Draw it in
Breathe it out
No reason
No doubt
No order
No rhyme
Here and Now
Fuck time
No thinking
No stressing
No guessing
Just in it
Sin it
Win it
Let’s get into it
Together
Intertwined
Sublime

Living With A Sexual Appetite

I’m getting too used to writing these little disclaimers. If you’ve changed my diaper, grown up somewhat conservative and/or modest, sheltered, private, or perhaps you’re just a bit squeamish; please know that this article is more honest, open and raw than I’ve ever been. And that’s probably saying a lot, as I usually don’t mince words. So read at your own caution. And enjoy.

I was born a horny child. Salacious as it may seem, it’s true. I think most children are equipped with sexual inclinations, intrigued by their own bodies and the desire to explore others. We learn to shield this very natural instinct, to shun the beauty of a naked adventure, and lock up desire, fantasy and pleasure into a closet that is dark and run by fear. That was not me. And luckily that was not my parents. I liked boys immediately. Well, men, truthfully. Boys my age never interested me until I met one that seemed an old soul like me, an indeterminable age himself, wise and weathered, handsome and strong. But I digress.

I was pretty boyish growing up. Combination of sporty parents and family, with no sisters or girl cousins, being the oldest raised by very strong, outspoken women I was doomed to a life outside my shell. I just remember loving dirt, sports, all colors besides pink, and being first. God dammit I was in a race, it was important I arrive in style, before everyone else. So I was very tom-boyish, dressed in baggy pants and jerseys until I realized boys like girls who dress like girls, not girls who dress like boys. Alright, I’ll throw on a skirt. As a child, I played with dolls mostly through other friends. My closest childhood friend had many trolls and my little ponies. All I remember is loving the wild hair of the trolls and incessantly touching the suede-ish my little pony because it felt amazing! The only barbies I owned were two hot, long-haired ladies and one dark-haired man Barbie. Don’t think I didn’t make those three inter-mingle in sordid ways, because I did, many times. And I’d do it all again.

In my family I’m most known and remembered for humping the furniture, from about the age of 4 I was mounting everything with an arm. Look out, old sofas and chairs! Life was good. My parents gave me the greatest gift you can ever give a child, they handled it with mature grace. They simply asked I hump my own furniture in private, behind a closed door, away from the grandparents and other visitors. And so I did. At the time, it was a physiological impulse. It felt good. That’s all. A few years later it got good and pervy but at a young age, it’s just stimulating. A leads to B which leads to C. Parents, adults in general, and authority figures specifically freak the fuck out when their kid seems inclined to follow their primal instincts. Your genitals are fun houses, kids, don’t let the grown-ups claim otherwise.

I was and still am a very inquisitive person. I want to know all things I don’t understand. I do not enjoy being confused and therefore I have an awesome crease from a consistently furrowed brow, a marker that says “bullshit.” I gave my parents this look often as a child, including the age of 5 when I persisted and annoyed them into telling me what sex was, down to the dirty details. The Louis C.K. stand-up from years back exemplifies this beautifully (and covers all kinds of hysterical topics regarding raising girls). “But why?”

Children never stop asking why. Adults don’t either but the context is miles away. Children’s whys regard discovery and figuring shit out. Adults are scheming to find out why something did or didn’t happen the way they felt it should. We are so annoying. Nonetheless, my tenacity paid off, I got my lesson on sex and I did not hesitate for a second thinking I wouldn’t have sex. I knew I’d have a lot of it, but when? And with who?

After many years and hand cramps, worn out arm chairs and holes ripped in underwear I started to get the idea that someone else can help me with this hard work. It doesn’t all have to be done myself. An unfortunate theme piped into the heads of many young ones, and young women in particular, is the notion that sex is special and should be saved for someone deserving. And although I agree with this somewhat, I think that either piques the interest of your child more, makes it feel wrong and forbidden, and trust me, what is forbidden is so damn enticing, or it drives you into fear, leading to ignorance and thwarted development. Hell yes, I want to be wrong. Fuck those old people (my parents weren’t and still are not old). My Mom was awesome enough to share that sex was awesome and fun but many young men haven’t a clue what they’re doing and many wish to just spread their seed and then leave you with a literal and figurative mess to clean up. She expressed that when I was ready to let her know and we’d prepare accordingly. May sound odd, nothing gets you in the mood like telling your mom about it, but it was really comforting and it led to a fairly high standard that was never met until I met my current man.

I knew people who were having sex in junior high. In elementary school, I was a little rudimentary slut, holding hands and kissing whomever I could. I had about 4-6 boyfriends from 3rd-6th grade. Some I kissed, some gave me jewelry, some I literally just talked to, and others I just paraded around like some sort of trophy at school. I felt my first emotional bond at 12 in 7th grade. For whatever reason he was a complete pussy and we kissed only once. I moved away after 8th grade to Dallas, where people were hotter, richer and a billion times more advanced than I was in every single way. I experienced the ethereal concept of chemistry for the first time at 15 in 10th grade. I’d had tons of crushes, mostly on the older guys, crushing hard-core on my older brother’s (actually my cousin, doesn’t matter) friends, taking tiny insignificant moments with me to recall later that night. But real chemistry is a whole other ballgame. And it fucked with my head royally.

This guy went on to become a very good friend of mine as we had endless things in common. We never so much as kissed and we’re still friends today. I’m not going to lie, I’d easily have ruined the friendship then and got the monkey off my back, but I was a hormonal mess without a clue how to handle it. And I’m stoked we’re still friends. Celibacy followed me further. My parents were all going through their own bullshit, leading me to question the value of relationships and making me hesitant to roll around with anyone just yet. I constantly had the thought that none of these boys could even begin to satisfy me, mentally, let alone physically.

I moved again in high school, back to the town of my junior high. For the first time since actually hitting puberty I ran into my 6th grade boyfriend. We barely spoke in junior high, I was consumed by my relationship with his friend. At 17, it was as if two adults were meeting for the first time. And for the first time in my life, my loins were activated by a man who existed in real life, not on television or the movies. To be so powerfully attracted to someone in a sexual way is very, very engrossing. I’m fairly certain it was the hormones but my god I was devoured by desire, and clouded by physicality. I’d always been attracted to men and he was a man now, equipped with height and hair, broad chest and a deep voice. God my mouth still waters thinking about him. Yikes. Excuse me.

Ok, I’m back. So being an idiot teenager I just lusted after my 6th grade boyfriend, allowing him to drunk dial me whenever he wanted, pop in and out of my life when he wished, enjoyed some summer make-out sessions and ultimately I let him break my heart twice. Ugh. Gross. I’d like to make a correction and say he broke my ego’s heart twice because my heart as it is today would waste no time on this dude. I’d still get naked with him, do not get me wrong, I have good taste and he wasn’t terrible, he just wasn’t stimulating enough, in every way imaginable. I feigned strength and sarcasm when he’d roll back into my life, pretending I didn’t give a shit until he convinced me he did and then I’d turn to mush.

I lost my virginity to him at 19 years old at his beach house on July 26th, 2003. His birthday. What a gift. I took charge. I was on birth control already, for over a year, priming my body for this experience. I went to Victoria’s Secret with my mom and bought some sexy underwear. Truth. I made a sexy playlist and got myself revved up on the 35 minute drive over. I let him know just what was going down. I took charge and I got mine. It was cool. Certainly not the best sexual experience I’ve had but a release. It was awesome to be naked with someone else, someone I’d been drawn to for so long, someone I wanted so badly. I should’ve ripped his head off and left him after but I lingered a bit. I told him we should just have sex and enjoy each other until I went back to college. We did once more. That was all. He always said I was too good for him, too much for him to handle. Shitty excuse for a boy dressed in man’s clothing to make. But ultimately true.

I spent 3 years in college single, abstinent, lonely, in a chronic state of masturbation and sadness. The tumult over my bullshit relationship just made me feel too weak to approach anyone or to open myself to someone new. I slept with a hot older dude who turned out to be engaged. It was very animalistic. I liked it, but I didn’t like him enough to pursue it further. Plus, I wasn’t interested in being that girl. Sure, I lusted over professors and tons of taken men, but I never wanted to disrespect someone’s relationship. I had enough sense and empathy to know I wouldn’t wish that for myself. And I did in fact want my own relationship, with laughter and eating and sex and whatever else is supposed to be involved. So many disingenuous guys in college. I crushed on a guy for a couple years, purposely ran into him around campus, sat near him in class, dreamt of him at night, but my courage be gone with my virginity and it didn’t return until 21, with the help of some liquid courage.

A few experiences with some people who will remain nameless led to me being fed up with me. I decided I would not waste another second wanting the past to be different. What a waste of time and energy. I chose to be open, for once, and see what happened. On a rare night out (I was so lame in high school and college. I can remember each party, each bar and each club. That’s how little I went out.), I went to a bar/restaurant my parents loved, a bar I’d visited numerous times underage, the very one where I met my one night stand parter, and I sat and gazed, eyes and loins open, excited to see who would come my way. I talked to this cocky ass hot guy who’d been talking to every other vagina previously. I did not give him my number, I’d never given my number to anyone. Truth. I was with one of my best friends, my old brother (Cuzzy) and then my parents joined us (since I was young I’ve been a homebody. I love my family. My standards for friends and men were high because I already had a place where I was accepted and welcomed to be myself).

It began to rain and in a quasi buzzed stupor I decided to go outside for some fresh air. I don’t even want to think about not going outside that door at that moment, because that moment changed my life forever. Every second since has been monumentally better. My life began July 9th, 2005 and I’m not ashamed for a moment to admit the cause. I fell in love and lust at first sight with my future husband, Derek. He was about to come in, finishing a cigarette, an activity I insisted I’d never accept. In a flirtatious and bold moment, I told him he was too handsome to smoke and I threw his cigarettes in the trash. It’s actions like this that leads my father to tell me I would scare the hell out of him. Oh well. Something worked. We went on our first official date July 22nd and we’ve barely come up for air since.

I won’t air out the dirty details of our relationship and our shared enjoyment of copulation, but I’ll say that I went into this partnership with an open mind and heart. I didn’t sacrifice who I was for a second. I was blunt and honest, at times to a fault, but ultimately we carved out a very genuine, equal relationship where each person’s needs were prioritized and met. He softened me and I awakened him. I do feel we brought the better out of each other and given we met at 21, it would be a drastic understatement to say that we’ve grown up together. I never anticipated getting married at 22. My cynicism was mounting so high I couldn’t even foresee meeting someone at all. My chosen shift in energy changed things. It took me getting fed up with myself, with who I was, that broke me free into who I could be.

Our relationship has been 97% positive. Any 3% came from fear. Fear of falling in love and losing it. I’ve never liked myself less than seeing my jealousy. I always thought I was above it, but I’d never been around someone I loved and someone they’d had sex with before. It made me feel so juvenile, so uncomfortable. Can’t you just release and then cast that person away forever? Turns out that’s not so practical and most of the time we’re forced to engage with characters from our former lives, regardless what role they have now. Years ago, I was riddled with false confidence. I wanted to be adored but wouldn’t admit it. Love me for my mind, dammit (see previous article on growing up with a MILF for a mom). And so the beauty of other women made me uncomfortable. I had beautiful friends, beautiful family members and admired many women. I wasn’t a woman hater. I was just particular. And if the lady was super hot but not inspiring in any other way, instead of acknowledging that and enjoying the sight of something so beautiful, I fought it. An un-winnable fight. Again, a waste of energy. Nothing brought me further into my satisfaction with life and everything in it than this.

To assume someone you’re with is titillated, attracted to and satisfied by you and you only is futile, selfish, egoic and stupid. I understand the unease that comes along with those emotions, but let me just express as someone who’s come out the other end much happier and in a very satisfying monogamous relationship, that you may be committed to one person, but you are not dead. Since birth I’ve lusted after men, had long lists of men I wanted to bone, and short lists of freebies should the opportunity arise. That hasn’t changed. Me and my love have respectful, fun discussions about men and women we each find tantalizing and why. Genuine confidence is a love of self and an appreciation of others. It is not conditional. There are no egg shells to carefully circumvent, no conversations off limits. Letting go of worry frees you to enjoy yourself and others more fully. We’re embarking on the 7 year itch and neither of us have ever been more in love, in lust, or in like, with ourselves as individuals and with us as a unit. I believe so intently that this is what love and sex are supposed to be. Everyone’s definition and expression are different, of course, but most deserve to simply enjoy the company of another, encourage each other on their specific paths and live harmoniously with someone who balances you, allows you to be you and elevates you to your next level with ease.

Some blunt truths about sex:

Sex is awesome. Lights on or off. Naked or just the underwear removed. It is to be enjoyed. Good sex happens in the moment, not in your head. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

The more you accept your body and the less you complain, the better your sex will be. This is also true for your life in general.

Masturbation is healthy, prevents unwanted pregnancies, unwanted STDs and unwanted sexual awkwardness. I know what I like and I know how to express that. Get to know your body. It’s yours.

If you’re dissatisfied in a sexual relationship, first examine what you can do about it. Can you be more honest with your partner? Can you be more honest with yourself? Can you pinpoint what is lacking? Quality? Quantity? This may seem easier said than done but if you’re choosing to commit to one person, it behooves you to prioritize your physical relationship and to ask those difficult questions of yourself and the other.

The only reason your religion doesn’t like sex is because it is predicated on fear. How can you trust someone who’s taken a vow of celibacy forever on how to treat your body? Let alone someone who’s speaking for someone else on your behalf. No, thanks. Just as there should be a separation of church/temple/synagogue/place of worship and State, there should certainly be a dividing line between doctrine and semen. Forgive my crassness, but it’s true. There’s no need or room for thoughts and opinions in this realm. Sex is a beauty to be experienced beyond the confines of words and beliefs. Just do it.

Your body is not dirty. It’s fascinating, peculiar and fun as hell. Enjoy it.

Jealousy, gossip, disrespect toward others, cutting yourself down or demeaning your partner are the antithesis to sexual arousal. Kindness, acceptance, trust, respect, humor and a healthy appetite are great aphrodisiacs. Try em on for size.

How you look has little to do with your experience. When you’re fixated on the external, little attention is paid to the myriad of glorious ecstasies that can be felt within. Take your awareness to how you feel and know that if it feels good, it looks good too.

Sex can and certainly should be enjoyed free from emotion. It is each individual’s business what, when, where, why and how they engage in sex. BUT, sex is always better when you dig the person you’re with, when they’re more than just a P or a V or a set of T’s or B’s. Don’t discount the emotional element as it can rear its ugly head and affect your experience of sex. Acknowledge it all and have whatever sex you want to have and protect yourself as you see fit.

Knowledge is power. Read, listen and watch any materials that may educate you and serve you and your partner better.

Enjoy your dreams and your waking life. You only have one. Soak it up.

Danielle Robinson
Yoga teacher/ Writer
You, Me and Yoga Makes 3 on Facebook
Follow: @mastic8onthis on Twitter

cop(U)lat(I)on

No matter how difficult the access or how high the cost, we will find a way to have sex and not have babies.
Does that bother you?
How much time do you spend worrying about how much sex someone else will be having?
Kind of perverse, isn’t it?
Those worrying about the sexual activities of others couldn’t be less sexual, less full of life and passion.
Government is not sexy.
Strict religion silences pleasure, self-discovery.
Bummer. The 70 year old white man with a collar doesn’t believe I should have sex without intending to procreate.
Hate to rebel, padre, but it’s with reckless abandon that I rip my clothes off tonight, with the lights on, just one of many enjoying the fruits of this wondrous existence.
Nothing can stop this innate gift, not even your persistence.
No amount of resistance.
Or insistence.
No foil or foe.
No John or Jane Doe.
No judgment. No punishment.
Can strip away this liberty.
This freeing ecstasy.
After which, what’s left of me.
Is the same.
I carry no shame.
No blame.
It’s insane.
To wax and to wane.
Over my body.
My pleasures.
My pain.
This is my business.
Clean or dirty.
In love or in anger.
Known. Or a stranger.
Safe. Or in danger.
Loudly.
Proudly.
Shrouded in desire.
Crowded with fire.
Heat. Combustible.
Chemistry. Lustable.
From below. Or above.
In hate.
Or in love.
Get out of my bedroom.
Stop infecting.
Resurrecting.
Nonsense. Fear.
Inducing guilt. Tears.
Left cold and confused.
Empty and abused.
Segregated.
Mind and body split.
Heart and loins adrift.
Only pieces remain.
Hope down the drain.
Because of ignorance.
The arcane. Inane. Insane.
Caustic. A stain.
Get out. Silence yourself.
Opinions shelved.
Criticism delved.
What’s left after it all?
Death. Extinction.
We all breathe.
We all love.
We all drink.
We eat.
We try.
We learn.
We die.
Along the way to death.
Enjoy the rest.
Absorb the best.
Laugh.
Discover.
Dance.
Be entranced.
Engulf.
Remove.
Let go of clothes.
The cloak.
Time to soak.
And invoke.
Follow your passion.
Your bliss.
Know yourself.
Without presence.
You miss.
This.
Here.
Now.
Be.
Lover.
Achiever.
Believer.
Receiver.
Alive.
Here to thrive.
More than survive.
I’m here.
Now.
As are you.
To enjoy.
Somehow.
Together.
Or apart.
Let’s embark.
Rev up.
Start.
Leave the rest behind.
Let go.
Let loose.
Tie a noose.
Around the naysayers.
The fake players.
The empty prayers.
Say fuck it.
And be you.
Everyday anew.
Relinquish.
Laugh and play.
Screw.
For no one but you.
All you have is Today.
Flow and sway.
Here. Away…

What it is to be Sexy: The Era of Gosling and Fassbender

If you’ve changed my diapers or simply do not enjoy reading, watching, or listening to discussions or showcases of sexuality, feel free to stop reading. No offense intended or taken, although I do wish you a full life, open to all pleasures, accepting of all facets making an enjoyable existence. This article is much more than it appears on the surface, but it does involve sexuality and sex appeal. Virgins and tight asses beware 🙂

Intelligence is sexy. Discipline is sexy. Creativity is sexy. Depth is sexy. The characterization of one with sex appeal can be dissected and described a million different ways. It’s a matter of opinion and therefore holds little value in truth, but as the amount of credible opinions increase over time, an opinion then blends with fact. Empirically, Ryan Gosling and Michael Fassbender are sexy. The apparent uproar over this year’s meaningless bestowing of Sexiest Man Alive to Bradley Cooper (according to People Magazine) over Gosling shows just what weight these opinions can carry. Sure, they’re moot and unnecessary in the grand scheme, but given the nature of sexuality and the importance of it in not only society but life itself showcases the truth behind a specific culture. Who we find sexy and who we find attractive are two very different things. Certainly Mr. Sexiest Man Alive 1985 won’t be showing up again anytime soon (Mel Gibson) and only time will tell how Mr. Cooper will fare. For arguments sake, what makes someone sexy in our culture is mystery, talent, strength and goodness. Let’s break these down.

have two examples where an air of mystery is exhibited and fostered in film. Drive and Shame. Both are quieter films, dealing with some seriously violent, negative and unfortunate circumstances involving characters with secrets and depth we cannot imagine. Both are led by Gosling and Fassbender, respectively; and both have limited dialogue but an array of expression in tone, mannerisms, action and speak volumes where there is no sound. In both, despite dealing with extreme character flaws, the leading men take you through their story, convince you to accept and have compassion for them as flawed human beings while making some truly deplorable decisions. Both the characters and the actors do not lay everything out for you. Like the adult you are, you must read between the lines and come to many of your own conclusions. Beyond Fassbenders’ third leg (George Clooney joked he could play golf with his hands tied behind his back. Can’t say I’d look away if that actually happened), he has what any intriguing human being carries, life, soul and depth behind his eyes. You have no idea what or why, but you want to know more. Both men make you blush, sweat, laugh and cry, like a good lover should. Both have great senses of humor offscreen while remaining quite private and low-key, living with a brewing intensity, all adding to the enigma. I want more of both.

I’d be willing to guess 75% (probably more) of talent is wasted in this world. For any number of reasons one might go through life without recognizing their own gift, thus being unable to foster it, and give it away. What makes talent so sexy and appealing is not simply the gift, but the dedication and work behind it. I’m fortunate to be friends with some immensely talented people. Dancers, musicians, painters, graphic artists, athletes, successful business men and women, etc. I don’t watch them perform or gaze at their work and think “wow, they’re so lucky, what a gift,” I think “my god, what finding your purpose and busting your ass can do.” Sure, stage presence, artistry, a body morphed by discipline are all very physically attractive things, but the perseverance and passion behind the eyes, the audacity and courage to hone your talent and pursue it and then to exhibit it so beautifully, is so god damn hot. Watching actors be chameleons, like Gosling and Fassbender clearly are, just adds another tasty ingredient and is another reason they’re successful now and without doubt will be only improving down the road.

Strength. The word probably conjures a slew of images and examples. You might think of a gigantic man pulling an 18 wheeler, or a faceless body with ripped muscles, or an image of a person with cancer, handling their illness with integrity and grace. From what I’ve observed, it takes strength to live a very balanced life, to treat your body and mind like the machines they are while maintaining a semblance of humility and grace in order to carry it off. It’s not necessarily the way they wear their clothes or the way they look in the shower (although the pure animal magnetism when seeing a strong, broad man with a distinct voice and mannerisms, move in the way they do, like a lioness in observation of the males’ power and force, triggers a very primal center in my brain, and every instinct says MATE, make powerful offspring with THAT!), but how they carry that masculine frame, how they value their health, and the inner strength required to build the physicality, to keep bettering and challenging their work, and how they live in harmony between pride and confidence, style and substance, notoriety and privacy. I have nothing against Robert Pattinson or Justin Bieber, but they’ve yet to exhibit both the raw and the fine-tuned fusion of intelligence, talent, humor, beauty, wisdom and mystery, as the American and Brit I’m writing about here. Not even close. Here’s where goodness comes in.

I used to be very attracted to Tiger Woods, not that I don’t find him physically attractive anymore, and not that I was shocked when his scandal broke a couple years ago, but to me the discipline and strength he personified beautifully on the golf course was seemingly nonexistent in his personal life, and that shows inherent weakness. It takes genuine fortitude and a secure human being to live with integrity, to garner their own success while carrying an open heart, following their bliss, treating others well and living as little from your ego as possible. I have no judgments toward anyone’s behavior in the bedroom, truly, have fun, have one, have all, but don’t be a douche and lie to your wife while you’re banging hoards of mediocre people. Those who live life with a facade are not strong at all. They may have walls built from years of self-preservation and I certainly hope those people move past that and have the courage to live openly in all facets of their lives; but until then, you are not sexy. You can dress the part, act the part, showcase your hot body, spectacular talent and external success til the cows come home, but it’s still phony, it’s still a lie, and liars aren’t sexy, except to equally unconscious people. Goodness is what rounds out a total package. Goodness is there on the darkest days when you’re injured, or uninspired, at home with your dogs. I never assumed Tiger Woods was good, I just knew he was great. He’d perfected many things, while neglecting others. Through various stories you can read in Vanity Fair, GQ or any magazine with real journalism and in-depth interviews (not tabloids, not E! online), you’ll get a sense for Gosling and Fassbender’s humility and groundedness, their cheeky sense of humor, the love of their craft and appreciation for where they came from. Gosling takes his mom to award shows. Aw. None of us knows for sure whether their goodness is sincere, but what I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t seem fake or forced, it just is. And that’s sexy.

It seems the best films I’ve seen this year have included these two men. I recently saw A Dangerous Method, a David Cronenberg film starring Fassbender as Dr. Carl Jung, following Freud and the advent of psychoanalysis. It was driven by century old theories of sexual neurosis, rich with dialogue and propelled strongly by it’s lead. One of the most courageous films of the year involves Fassbender’s role in Shame, a successful late 30’s man living in Manhattan and suffering deeply with sex addiction, genuinely, not in the Jesse James/Tiger Woods I can’t stop cheating on my wife disease, but a raw portrayal of a lonely man without the facility and openness to love, so he screws everything and everyone, even men during times of desperation. Fassbender played the role on a razor’s edge, with equal parts control and defensiveness, charm and desperation, potential and hopelessness. Gosling carried a similar disposition in Drive, holding in secrets and engaging in very questionable behavior. That same line was drawn beautifully in George Clooney’s (another timeless and pervasively sexy man) film Ides of March. Gosling was stellar in that role as well. I’d watch Crazy, Stupid, Love on mute, for many reasons, one in particular. I’m not a comic book person, a trilogy or sequel follower (haven’t seen all Star Wars, Lord of Rings, Spiderman, Superman, etc. not really interested), but X-Men: First Class knocked my socks off. Just like in Inglorious Basterds, Fassbender is a scene stealer here. They’ve both proved their dedication and craftsmanship in films like Hunger and Lars and the Real Girl, and we’ll look forward to continued brilliance in Prometheus and Only God Forgives, but for now, we’ll just will ourselves to dream about them in the whee hours of the night.

Note: Carrie Mulligan is in both of these fantastic films. She is a very talented beauty, very sexy in her own right.

You may be in a relationship, as am I, but you’re not dead, and neither am I. The very descriptions I used to prove Gosling and Fassbender’s sexual magnetism is living and breathing in many people I know, men and women, and the one I’m lucky to sleep next to every night. There are many talented, strong, intelligent and beautiful women, famous or not, who are living truthfully, devoted and passionate, genuinely sexy human beings. I’m encouraged and inspired, just without the urge to surge, but understand why men do. I’ve been drawn to men since I was young, never being attracted to men my age and hardly wasting time on the Justin Bieber types. Give me an interesting, clever, open, thoughtful and strong man and I’m a happy woman. I enjoy having the open dialogue with the very sexy man in my life, neither of us being threatened by a harmless crush but totally agreeing in what makes someone sexy. Sex is fun, seeing others embrace this makes life an enjoyable ride, so to speak. Enjoy your crushes in a respectful way and challenge your standards at what constitutes sexy. And if you’re unsure, check out Ryan Gosling or Michael Fassbender in anything. Hopefully they’ll make some ironic sexy man film together someday, or maybe that will just exist in my dreams.

No need to be uptight. We were born naked. Learning to embrace primal urges while finding balance is a key to a good life. Life full of delicious foods, mental dexterity, physical challenges, high brow humor and down n’ dirty romps in the sack, with a sexy partner, or by yourself. Happy humping everyone.

Alright America, medic8onthis. Laughter series 101 w/ Patrice O’ Neal

Between the multitude of podcasts, memoirs and stand-ups I watch, read and listen on a daily basis, plus 27 years surrounded by a humorous family who passed on their own comedic influences, comedy may just be a through-line in my inspiration to write. Sarcasm is my defense mechanism. Upon meeting someone new not only do I size them up by seeing which humor they can handle, I exert what I perceive to be my strength in my words. Making someone laugh has an addictive quality and I’ve fallen in love with both sides of humor. Sure I’ve made mistakes, scared boys away, created tension with girls (I’m saying girls because women can’t be bothered with that high school nonsense), pissed my mother off, received A’s in academics and N’s in conduct. If you recall an N is not acceptable or non-sufficient or naughty. I don’t know but it’s fairly contradictory to the studious grades and attributes I also employed. Regardless, my sense of humor has served me. Sure, I’ve learned some harsh lessons about tact and timing, but mostly it’s saved me. Having or causing a legitimate laugh is not easy, nor should it be. And it is with that sentiment that I highly recommend Patrice O’Neal’s stand-up special, Elephant in the Room.

Similar to food, I’m a bit of a comedy snob. Unlike music and clothing and other pursuits, I actually seek comedy out, read about it, check out up-and-comers, watch documentaries, old stand-ups, and have a great little collection of DVDs and memoirs of my favorites. Comedy is an art-form and therefore you’ll hear umpteen opinions about any given piece of art that comes your way. No opinion is wrong, just as if you’re listening to music or glancing at a painting; but as with food, there is a level of experience and acquired taste that comes into play. And as with food, I feel you can trust my knowledge and opinions on this subject.

A Massachusetts born comedian, Patrice filtered into the comedic world roughly ten years ago. It was about that time I discovered him and many other geniuses on VH1’s I Love the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s series and subsequent spin-offs and sequel/prequels. He’s had numerous appearances on Def Comedy Jam, Colin Quinn’s old Comedy Central show Tough Crowd, The Chappelle Show (where is Dave Chappelle? Man I miss him. Brilliant.), Shorties watching Shorties, and characters in films like Scream 4 and Head of State. He portrayed a warehouse worker in multiple episodes of the Office and earned some of the best ‘make Michael Scott’ squirm moments. Real comedy nerds may remember him from an episode of the greatest television show to ever be broadcast (tragically cancelled due to lack of an intelligent audience, movie still in the works), Arrested Development. His IMDB page reads like most actors but where he shines is as himself, on stage, making us laugh.

Elephant in the Room is his first hour-long special on Comedy Central. The title being both literal and figurative, pointing to both his body reflecting that of an elephant’s (assuming he also has a trunk to match) and bolding pointing out cultural norms we’re all too afraid to admit. It’s the quintessential ‘funny because it’s true’ laughter but without being obvious. It feels fresh, pulls from a new perspective. Patrice provides the most spot-on analogies that you take with you. During one point he describes men working amongst women being like grizzly bears working with salmon who happened to be covered in honey. The bear is not allowed to want the salmon, or god forbid express that desire in any way shape or form, but they’re forced to expose themselves to their greatest desire day in and day out, creating an exhausting level of tension.

The greatest and perhaps most pivotal trait in Patrice’s success is the delivery, as is the case with any humor. The tone, inflection, word choice, volume all has to be appropriately expressed to your specific audience. With Patrice, you feel he’s having a one-way conversation with you. He’s relaxed, casual, and builds on his jokes as if they come to him in that moment. And he tops it all off with the most outstanding facial expressions. Those eyes tell the story and with one look, he’s got you in stitches.

The most prolific and memorable comedians are typically the most irreverent. They’re pointing out truths they observe, like em or not, they point right to the elephant in the room. A pervasive topic for hundreds of years and no less intense than right now is the topic of racism. Whether we want to admit it or not, it’s still there, sad but true. It’s disguised and subtle, under the hats of people who’d never admit or recognize it, but damn does it still exist. And racism in all directions. Sexism, like women, is a close 2nd to racism, followed closely by homophobia and slightly off but still related topic of animal rights. It all comes back to the treatment of beings on our society and the best of the best show us our errors while simultaneously busting our guts. I can 100% admit my advantages in this society; as a woman, white, young, not horrifying to look at, I can pretty much get whatever I want and probably could give up working on it. White men have it the best and yet they’re the most sensitive about it. Get over it men, enjoy it. It won’t last much longer. We’re all privy to these societal norms. The most logical option is to recognize it, laugh at it and then continue to progress.

The material covered in Elephant in the Room speaks to our truths on the most raw level. It hurts to laugh. You laugh and then immediately say awww and make a frowney face. But the truth shall set you free and getting to that “can’t we all just get along?” goal will only approach quicker with a dialogue and comedy opens up the floor for that to happen. The only thing better than eating good food with great people is eating good food with great people while laughing. We’ve been quoting Patrice for weeks now. I look forward to watching the special again.

Below is so poignant, so true, so funny. And it came from interacting with the crowd, seemingly out of nowhere. White baby on a key-chain. Genius.

Burn the calories as you ingest them. Eat. Laugh. Enjoy.