Caroline & JohnnyI am happy that you are Free… free of the life-long struggle to know Peace of mind and Peace in your soul.

Johnny, you are without a doubt the most precious man I have ever known. You have a very tender heart, as well as the incorrigible ability to always show up for me. I know you managed a lot of complex issues, but you never dumped them on me. You always were the consistent and lovable person I knew from early childhood. You were the template for “Brother” that I will always insist on if any other brother ever comes my way!

We could laugh… we could play… we could really see life and family with a sense of humor. I think that saved our souls.

Emotion rips through me as I attempt to write this message to you. Your last words to me, “Don’t Cry,” describe the Niagara Falls of tears that simply prove how much I have and have not listened to your wisdom over the nearly 70 years of our sibling relationship. Big Sister and Little Brother… we have traded roles so many times into Big Brother and Little Sister.

I always depended on your wisdom even when you doubted it yourself. You have never been a burden, but always a deep well of kindness and love where I could land and feel safe. I still feel that you are very near.

I hear you now stronger and louder than ever. I comb through the photos of our family life, our visits to one another, our crack-up funny birthday cards, Christmas Cards, and my annual Easter call to you reminding you to wear your cute little plaid vest, pictured somewhere in the archives when you were about five and we hunted for Easter Eggs at Indian Hills Country Club… then lovingly fighting over who got the most chocolate marshmallow ones.

We survived our mother’s illness, living with our grandfather during her hospitalization… meeting in the kitchen to fill our lost tummies with cans of Campbells Tomato Soup and Hormel Chili, followed by three-stack packages of Oreo cookies and milk. We were for one another the love we were seeking! Our childhood bonded us into beloveds with a money-back guarantee that we were always meant to be 100% there for one another. And we always were.

That has been our gift to one another… to be the love that our little souls would seek. To be the one most trusted friend in all the world. We are one another’s deepest connection to Source through each other. We always will be. And we could share such deep intimacies, especially when as adults we broke the ice and began talking about sex. That was a big taboo for two little Kansas kids, but it allowed us to acknowledge and gain respect for one another as whole adults, not just little kids pretending to be grown up.

I could always tease you!!! The green hand that appeared in the shadows of childhood story-telling followed us until death parted us. I remember telling you in the hospital to ‘look for the green hand… it would guide you home’. Some folks say look for the Light, but we had our own language and imagery, didn’t we my beloved brother?

I am so grateful to Celedra and her family for they held you in family love these past years, where your soul could rest and begin to let go to the wonders of love and support. I wished I could have done that for you, but I know you got exactly what you needed and so deserved, dearest One.

I am forever and always your Sister in this life and hopefully in all of our lives to come…. Or any combination of togetherness that we might choose… I will always be your

Carolyn…

Kernie …

Sister…

… and all of the nick names you had to live with!!!

Sweetest Sorrows

John & Caroline youngI am quietly processing the passing of my only and dearest brother, my only and dearest sibling. His name was John Cusack. I called him Johnny from the day he was born, July 2nd, 1947.

Since his passing on July 1st, I can barely keep up with daily life, let alone tend to business, pay bills, or think straight. He was and will always be my best friend… my baby brother for nearly seventy years.

My little brother was placed in my arms when I was three and a half years old. I remember the moment so clearly. Our bond never weakened, but only grew. We survived the dysfunction of our family… we always had each other’s backs. The love between Johnny and Caroline was an indestructible force that carried us both through marriages, divorces, cross-country moves, the death of both of our parents, and the birth of at least five grandchildren (so far).

We never fought. The presence of unconditional love was never a question, yet always a balm of comfort for us both. I once accidentally set his house on fire! His response was gentle and with a soft smile, “Oh Caroline… now look what you’ve done!” Shaking his head, he brought me a cup of coffee and we praised the neighbors for seeing the flames and calling the Fire Department.

I saw myself as the mean (or more accurately, ‘less-loving’) older sister, but I also led him into much popularity when I was Captain of the Cheerleaders at our boarding school in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. He was a hunk of a linebacker on our football team, The Panthers. Johnny was the best brother a girl could ever have, bar none!

Hot burning tears drop on my computer keys as I write this. They also plopped into my oysters at a downtown Portland oyster bar when I got the text from his beloved wife that “Johnny has passed.”We immediately ordered the best bottle of Champagne, as Johnny would have insisted on, before we found our Uber ride back to the hospital. My sweetheart Will was with me at the hospital for several days in the soft and quiet hours of our farewell to Johnny.

John & Caroline olderI never imagined experiencing that my next of kin would look intently into my eyes and declare, “I am ready to die. Go get those damn doctors in here and unhook me from all this crap. I want to die.” My response… “Darlin’, I am heading down the hall to get this job done.” As I resolutely exited his room, his wife arrived and assisted me in the task of alerting the hospital staff. Shortly after, the ‘drip’ began and all life support was removed. For three days we stroked and touched him lovingly as his dearly devoted mate poured her love into him and crawled into his bed to hold his body close to her throughout the eerie hospital nights.

I witnessed the presence of his beautiful, loving son and countless friends who came to sit by his side. The soft murmur of “Om Mani Padme Hum” Mantra was chanted to invoke the benevolent blessings of the embodiment of compassion by members of the Tibetan Buddhist Dharma Center. This was a vigil… a death ritual as moving as any celebration of life I have ever witnessed. One cannot live without the other. Life and Death are siblings as are brother and sister. I’m inspired now to begin my study of Tibetan Buddhism from home at Dharma Ocean.

May your Life begin again and again each moment of each day, Caroline

Oregon is one of only four states that has passed legal legislation around Death with Dignity… the FREEDOM of terminally ill people to make their own end-of-life DECISIONS.

How could I not respond to so many of you who commented on my last blog, What’s a Girl to do with The Movers? 

As a Pleasure Professional, a Tantra Goddess, and last but not least, the Queen, I accept the invitation to continue this marvelous erotic adventure, at least in my imagination! In this scenario, my actions have very little to do with my nice girl and much more with my wanton animal self, albeit with a good head on her shoulders.

So many of you you cheered me on wishing I had just “gone for it,” and my sweetheart and I chuckled at the possibility! After fourteen years with the same fantastic man, the ejaculatory relief of the moving guys in my temple of sacred love would not exactly have filled my cups. My pussy, yes, perhaps… but not my Yoni, my chalice of divine intervention with God. Oh, without a doubt, it would have been an adventure into lusty passion on a hot summer day alone in the house… but with my background, this erotic adventure would have gone something like this:

“Hey guys….” (hmmmm….. not quite….. what would that sound like if I was in my power?)

“Men, what Ma’am wants is what Ma’am gets. Steve, reach into that drawer for that tube of lube. How close and how slow can we go? Pass those lovely lips my way, men of steel. Breathe hot into my ear and neck ever so slowly over my luscious breasts. Steve, I want you first, then Quinn… then Mike…. S L O W E R darlings…. until we run out of time and you have to return another day.” Panting hard now, the scent of man and sweat ignites my animal self…

Shit… who has condoms? Not me… never need ‘em! Where’s that lube?

Guys in a hurry never think about a woman needing more WET than they can provide. Damn… lost in the chaos, that lube was too far away. “Hey guys, just keep your blue jeans on and hold me tight, as if you love me more than life itself and you never wanna let me go.”

Right! I am a Tantra Yoga teacher… I know things! I know the difference between my human animal and my divine feminine. I know that sharing about an afternoon’s adventure like that with my darling over wine and grilled swordfish and vegies would not make his day. I know that hot relief is like eating at In ’n Out…(pardon the pun) and is instant gratification (hey, you want fries with that?). And I want you to know that I am having more satisfaction writing about the possibilities than if I were writing about hot sex on a hot day.

Sometimes I lament my graduation into consciousness as it relates to my own sexuality. You can still have it any way you want… there are no rules, only your own truth in each and every moment. I love it all.

Sometimes I want my lover In ‘n Out, and sometimes I want a slow dance that lasts a lifetime. That is how I view the gift of playing with energy as it is called for in the moment.  It’s all Tantric! It’s all Divine! Tantra is, after all, the yoga of everything.

The recent teaching week at Esalen Institute for fifteen couples of all ages and stages held the same gratification as it always has. One of the couples called Charles and I the Sexual Bodhisattvas of Love. Now that is a testimonial I am proud to bear!

Now that I’m settled in my new home and The Movers are long gone, I’ve launched my private practice once again. Individual sessions via Skype or in person (in Genoa, NV) are available and I’m now offering a 3-Day Divinely Feminine Experience scheduled at your convenience!

In harmony with the Seasons,

Caroline

Moving bunniesThere I was, standing at the foot of my unmade bed on a hot August Nevada day, barely covered in lace and roses bra and panties, short skirt and cami, with my three moving men humbly asking, “Is there anything else we can do for you, Ma’am?”

Soft eyes matched hard muscle. I trembled and nearly fainted as shockingly erotic movies immediately played across my mind. “Do for me? Well, yes, now that you mention it… see that dresser over there? It needs to go on that wall rather than this one.” Oh, Goddess help me, I could just lay back on the damn dresser… the bed is too obvious, isn’t it?

I loved these guys. I loved how they effortlessly hauled, dollied and carried thousands of pounds… tons actually, of my stuff the previous day… a move down three flights of stone steps from my Lake Tahoe home that took eight hours before they showed up in two huge vans at my new house in Genoa—Nevada’s oldest town in which Nevada’s oldest Thirst Parlor is the number one tourist attraction. In that one long day we bonded in partnership-of-the-impossible. No time for lunch… no time for dinner… just finish the job and head home with empty vans.

Back to these three men at the foot of my bed… or perhaps I should say to the movies in my head that weakened the very fabric of my seventy years of evolution into a Conscious Lover. For every woman my age I want to assure you we are still capable of prolonged fantasies of sex with young bucks who make a living on their testosterone. I was wet with desire, yet my ‘nice girl’ would have no part of their offer.

“Oh, no thanks,” I squeaked in near-breathless observation of my promiscuous thoughts. They were, after all, the Moving Men. As they followed me back down the carpeted stairs, we hugged good-bye, lingering in the embraces that were filled with the promise of tender passion.

Often unrequited love is the only option. The whole scene was reminiscent of youthful times gone by when I would have jumped their bones—or is that boners? It was a warm reminder of my ALIVE female animal who lives in the deepest recesses of my goddess lover-woman.

Could it be that the Wild West of Northern Nevada has woken up Belle Starr… Divine Madame of the Thirst Parlor and Pleasure Professional? What do you think? Please share in the comments section below.

Your divine side-kick and friend,

Caroline

By Caroline Muir

broken glassThe Divine works in ways I will never understand, but the following true account made me a believer forevermore.

The plush carpeting in my home stopped at the entry to the dining room where the floor had been redone and covered with cream marble tiles that my friends acquired in a “great deal” and shipped to Maui from Bali. It created a kitchen and dining room floor one could nearly see herself in as the stone was polished to a clear shine.

During an event in my home, the forty-two inch round glass coffee table was moved out of the living room and placed safely between the dining table and the sliding glass doors that had a great view of the Pacific Ocean.

The carved wooden sea horses that supported the glass top were perched in their familiar grouping along with couches and chairs that lined the perimeter of the grand living room, minus their glass top.

After the event ended, my friends offered to move the furniture back and I tiredly commented, “Let’s do it in the morning!” Off they went in the tropical night air while I felt the delicious emptiness of the house once the thirty-eight guests happily strolled or drove home from the lovely Puja ceremony. Slipping into a soft cotton night-gown, I strolled through the dining room to close the sliding glass doors from the ever-present trade winds, feeling the cool marble under foot. Somehow, I lost my balance and fell backwards, unable to stop my descent directly down into the center of the low glass  table.

The crash of breaking glass resounded throughout the night. I found myself tightly nestled within shards of sharply pointed glass, instantly realizing that any move on my part to escape any deep and dangerous cuts meant that I must freeze into stillness. And so I did. Gazing around at the impossible situation I found myself in, I yelled many “Help” cries into the silent night. Soon I realized that I was trapped in what appeared to be crystals of lethal beauty.

Now was the time to go deep inside. My panicked heavy breathing would do me no good. No one was near and no one would hear my cries. I closed my eyes. I spoke with God/Goddess and handed my situation over to All- That-Is. Years of meditation practice served me well, as I was able to empty my mind of the helpless fear that could have consumed me and for some moments… did.

It seemed as though I slept, so deep was my stillness. I definitely went unconscious and left my body in its trapped ocean of terminal beauty.

And then what happened, you may ask?

Perhaps a full hour passed. My next conscious moment was finding myself standing upright on the carpeted floor, a good six feet from my glass cocoon. I felt my skin, looked around at the darkened house, listened carefully for the sound of my breathing, wiggled my toes into the plush cream beneath my feet, and looked over my shoulder at where I had been in utter disbelief. At that moment, however… I believed.

A ‘miracle’ such as this humbled me to my knees. I couldn’t move once again, though now I was surrounded only by the soft night air. I decided to tuck this story deep within me so as not to deflate the feeling that a miracle of sorts had just saved my life.

Slowly, I stood upright and very deliberately walked to the other sliding glass doors, closing them against the cool nightly trades. Humbly gliding toward my bed, I slid between my sheets and lay my head upon my pillow, as if I were an angel resting from the days’ tasks, tired yet wired. I eventually drifted into slumber, knowing that I would never be quite the same again. Perhaps miracles happen every day, but this was an evening of great magnitude for me. I was saved… I was still needed… I was loved. My connection to the Divine was and always will be… a Miracle.