You can meditate for thirty years and never find the part of you that surfaces in one night with a consort who knows what she’s doing.

The erotic opens in dimensions and so all of the selves can express concurrently.

That sweet spot is delicate. It’s where we can still choose. Where we feel the stretch between presence and pull.

She offers no rules, no hierarchy—only frequencies you must meet. Not because she withholds, but because intimacy has requirements. You must arrive not with credentials, but with truth.

The very sensation we are looking for when making love
is always within us

Eros invites us to
refine our attention, to cultivate the discernment necessary to understand
what our hunger truly seeks.

Women are the network. Imagine a motherboard, an intricate system of circuits and pathways, each communicating with the others.  

Men are the conduits that move between them. 

Carrying arousal is a responsibility. Not a burden, but a calling, an art, a practice, an offering. Not everyone knows how to play. But for those who do, it is the most exhilarating force on earth.

But the sky dancer knows—flight is accessed only on the wings of yes. As, I might add, is courage. Yes. That. I did that. I wanted that. I pleaded for that. To own it all—all of it—that is the skeleton key to the secret world.