Tantric Breakup

We unwove as consciously as we had woven ourselves together…and that was very, very consciously and slowly, during four days of deep purification and energy work–and energy play–at a Tantra retreat that left no shadows undiscovered. On the last evening. Finally. We kissed. And I realized.

At first glance, he had been too beautiful for me, and therefore, I surmised, gay—so well groomed, such good posture, pen perfectly placed beside his journal. Beautiful men are surely vain. Or gay. That was the easiest way to dismiss this man who stood out in the circle of 40. But he wouldn’t easily be dismissed. For example, one day at lunch I had a passing, silent, fantasy: wouldn’t it be great if this retreat had waiters, who’d take my plate and bring me dessert—and just then the beautiful and surely vain man beside me offered to take my plate and bring me dessert. I was stunned. I let him. Way to make my dreams come true!

The first day of the retreat, during a very boundaried exercise, women had been instructed to ask their partner (whether brought from home or met mere hours ago at the workshop) what level of touch he was comfortable with: on his perineum or inches away.  So I had asked him, my partner of the moment, my beautiful, surely vain, possibly gay, future psychic waiter. Let’s call him Rudy.

“What level of touch would you like?” I asked.

Rudy replied, with zero attachment, “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” and I was struck by his verbal chivalry. It mattered not to him how he was touched; he cared about his partner’s comfort level. There was something about him.

Me being me, by the end of that very clearly instructed, efficiently orchestrated Tantra exercise, I had my hand in his pants. That was not part of the instruction. But I can be spontaneous. I like to break rules. Hand in pants was what I was comfortable with! Here was this gorgeous young specimen spooned in front of me, either gay or not gay, definitely not vain, but cute and fresh with his Aveda scent, and there went my hand. He was irresistible. I was opportunistic. We were enjoying getting acquainted. But I had some well-set boundaries and had lunch with someone else that day.

At the end of the second to last night of the workshop, late, when clothes were a distant memory to all of us, when all the body paint had been used on each other, I noticed that someone in his group had scrawled on his bare abdomen, like graffiti, “Sublime lingam,” with an arrow pointing downward. Couldn’t help but notice. I’d noticed his sublime lingam too, more than once in that 5-day course when we’d been unclothed. It was just plain sweet. I noticed a fleeting bit of envy that someone else had labeled his lingam. To be honest, I am much more taken by women than men. But this man was cracking my foundation…in a good way, gently, thoroughly. The next night, the final night of the workshop, fully clothed, when all of the guided moments of the puja were over, in a moment of play, I surprised him with a full frontal kiss on the mouth. Immediately, I too was surprised: I really, really liked it.

Who knew?

He did. He’d had his third eye on me since long before the retreat, when he had created a vision to meet a woman just like me…and had an intuition to attend this level two Tantra retreat, “knowing” he would meet her there. At a meal, he had overheard me telling a friend that I would love to have a male Tantra partner who was willing to dive deep with me, and not have it be about going to a movie and dinner first. I wanted the sex to come first.  I wanted it to be just about sex. I was not into dating or having a boyfriend.  I wanted to learn to move my sexual energy, unite my Shakti with Shiva, whatever that even would mean in real life.  I could go to movies with my friends. I could go to movies alone. I wanted Divine sexual Union.  In case he’d been wondering whether I was the woman he’d created in his intention or not, this clinched it. Little did I know–I hadn’t even known he’d been listening.

Over the next few days of the retreat we spent plenty of time giggling and partnering and rubbing each other’s feet and on the last night decided that the retreat would not be the end of Us. I arrived home to a poem he had written and emailed me. About Us. We plunged into what became a five and a half year long-distance revelry. Right away, we decided not to call it a ‘relationship,’ which implied effort, compromise, goals, seriousness.

“Let’s call it a journey,” I offered, and we embarked.

Before our first sexual experience, I said, “I want to love you as much as I love you and not have it be about anything. Not about diamond rings or moving or the future. I want it to be about love itself.”

“Perfect,” he said, in his laconic way, with the smile that fed my heart. And I committed to love him as much as I loved him, whatever that meant in any given moment, and if I didn’t feel the love, it would be all about me and zero about him. That was our mutual commitment.

Rudy was so easy to love, and as a bonus, he could make chai from scratch and came equipped with countless compelling stories about traveling in India. I was enchanted. He was funny, excellent in the kitchen, and he gave me plenty of space to be me. Over the years, I loved him no matter what, trained myself to recognize and transform any judgment about him that would seek to keep me out of Love. I learned there was nothing he needed to change about who he was; I just needed to release my own habit of judgment.

Let’s never wish we were anywhere other than Here Now, we decided at the end of our first weekend together. Let’s not want what we don’t have. Let’s channel the love and desire into our own life rather than wishing we were together when we’re apart. And…the biggest: we will handle our own issues, seeing each other as mirror. Period. I commit. Only if we absolutely couldn’t resolve an issue on our own would we bring it to each other’s attention. It was pure bliss. Whether he flew to Chicago or I flew to Miami, it was about sex, reverence, play, indulgence. Not about issues.

“Just so you know, I can’t be monogamous,” I had said that first weekend. “It’s not who I am.”

“Ok,” he said. “Whatever works for you.”

“Actually, I want to be monogamous,” I said, the second weekend, a few weeks later. “With you.”“Ok,” he said. “Me too.”

Immediately, people—friends, clients–began to ask me where our relationship was going, what our plans were. “It’s a journey. No destination,” I’d say, and that didn’t always register. So I would over-explain. “It’s a journey. It’s not about where we aren’t, what we don’t have. I have a partner who looks at me with reverence. He doesn’t want anything from me, except to be a mirror. I don’t want it to be anything other than what it is.”

“But really, when are you going to get married?” they’d ask. People had simply no paradigm for a girl-boy alliance that wasn’t “going” somewhere, leading to something permanent.

We had made an agreement around sex, right away. There was no flirting or messing around, no wondering who would make a move. We made as clear an agreement as we could make. It went like this: “Let’s have sex.” And at any given time, after sex, or after breakfast, or during dinner—often—one of us would say, “Let’s talk about sex.” It was our favorite topic. There was no stone left unturned; neither of us was too shy to say how something felt, what we wanted more of, less of. We both cared about how we could generate more energy to play in, how we could circulate that energy, between, within, around us. It was heavenly.

More than one person—and these were the people who I could actually tell—wondered how on earth we could have sex for four hours a day.  “Well, we split it up.  It’s about two hours in the morning.  Two in the afternoon.” Rarely did we have sex at night, before bed, like everyone else. (That was our time for eating pie.)

But what on earth do you do for two hours, they would wonder aloud. And what makes it tantric? And do you ever just want to have a quickie? And does he ever get to ejaculate?

These are all good questions. We could have sex for four hours a day because we had magnets implanted at the beginning of time, magnets that drew us to each other. I have no better explanation. We were drawn.  e knew there was a higher purpose to it, and the purpose was to move this supercharged energy, to not have sex be about sex, but about personal transformation, then about making the world a better place. Whatever we wanted to clear up, clean up—that’s where we would direct the energy, intuitively and intentionally. He could tell which way the energy was flowing—or not flowing, which was a special gift of his. As we cooked, we blessed our food with the sacred energy we had created; it was a way of reabsorbing it. Sexual energy wasn’t lost in the way that it is during Western sex, because, even if we did eventually have orgasms, it was after transmuting the energy.

I think it worked—we worked–because in addition to loving sex, we both loved to meditate; our sex was a compelling combination of both. Before ever meeting me, he had practiced maintaining an erection, which required a level of discipline; but if he didn’t maintain it, I didn’t fear that it was about me. (And if he did accidentally prematurely ejaculate (which for us meant, well, 45 minutes in) then, of course, it was about me; because he just couldn’t control himself.) I had no reason to ever think I was anything but utterly compelling to him. Because we had no issues—not because we had no issues, but because of our initial commitment to have no issues.

Did we ever want to have a quickie? No. What made it tantric? Being conscious of the energy flow, conscious of knowing each other as Divine. Being conscious of every breath, every moment, while in ecstasy. Sending the energy where we wanted it to go. Did he get to ejaculate? Yes! He knew when it was physically necessary, and his timing was masterful. (And if I may digress, did you know that the ejaculate of a meditator is known to be supercharged with consciousness? Indeed. I have a friend who once requested semen from a monk so she could use it for a facial. It’s a long—and funny—story. Truly one of my coolest, most self-realized friends. So, men who save their semen, tantricly—men who run the sexual energy through their body without ejaculating—as opposed to monks, who we assume don’t run any sexual energy at all—have some very precious nectar.  Sort of a fountain of youth.)  Meanwhile, in addition to experiencing the delights of Rudy’s Shiva energy, we would also explore the secrets of female ejaculate.  The female body is quite the storehouse for emotions. I’d laugh, then cry hysterically. Or cry, then laugh hysterically. Then we’d have to rest.  There was just no TIME for a quickie.

What intrigued me, ultimately, even more than sex with him, was, actually, pujas, blessings, ritual.  Sex goes hand in hand with puja, for me, and at this level of sexual-spiritual, I can barely tell them apart.  Reverence was the main course.  I was just as happy to be fully clothed, blessing him in any way my imagination permitted.  And he was willing to receive what the Goddess, as embodied by his earthly partner, had to offer.  Even though it was all about sex with us, at the same time it was not at all about sex.  At least in the traditional sense.

No one understood.  And that was fine.

We could do it forever.

Until we didn’t.  Until…five plus years in.  It seemed as though we had peaked.  Our journey a macrocosm, in a way, for the act of intercourse itself.

It was time to either set new intentions or separate.

When we broke up, I released so much energy, so much, I could barely identify it all.  It filled my car, where I sat, holding my phone.  It was fear and dread…and I didn’t make up any stories around it. I just felt it. There had been nothing to fear except the fear of breaking up, which had built up in me, and maybe us, over a couple of months.  When he’d answered his phone, I had said, “One of us needs to be the one to call the other one and break up, so, I volunteer.

“Ok,” he said.

Just like when we had come together, when we broke up there was a recurrent question from my posse out in the real world:  “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” I would reply.  “It was just time.  The energy was no longer supporting our Union.”

“But…what did he do, what happened with you two?  You seemed so in love!”  We were.  So in love.

The first cultural assumption is that a good and viable relationship must be permanent.  The second assumption is that surely something went wrong if it didn’t “last.”  Who made this up?  That true love lasts forever is such a prevalent assumption. What if true love and true union and the beauty of coming together have nothing to do with permanence?  What if they have to do with presence? Until you choose not to be present?

“What happened?” people asked, with deep sympathy. “I am so sorry!” It was difficult to explain why there was nothing to be sorry about, without sounding delusional, in denial, new agey…the expectation of pain was so high, among everyone.  I really did sound like I was in denial. I found myself almost wondering if something were indeed wrong with me…callousness, for example.  Because it didn’t hurt.  It felt great.

“And how is he taking this?” I’d be asked.

“He feels the same way,” I said, more than once. It was so simple.  But only to us, it seemed.  Even out of union, I loved our Union, our agreement to be simple, our agreement to be immune to potential dramas, our agreement to create our own unique itinerary on our journey.

We exited in the same high level of consciousness at which we entered: present, engaged, listening to our hearts, listening from our hearts.  It was lovely, and I could only celebrate.  But because our way of celebrating had always been, well, sex, we didn’t actually celebrate.

What an amazing 5-year path of discovery, of learning to be receptive, of opening to the masculine Divine, of letting my Divine Feminine be present with no need to hold back, ask for a guarantee, or claim ownership.

I had learned to experience higher consciousness as embodied by this man, specifically as delivered by his sublime lingam.  I had learned to let that energy travel through my spine, like a pole of light that exposes anything that isn’t Love.  I had learned to revel unfettered in my own Divine Feminine, in Shakti, the energy of creation, to ride with it for hours that felt like moments and moments that felt like hours.  I had learned to expose it all, without feeling exposed.  I had learned to love someone no matter what.  I had learned that monogamy is simply placing all my eggs in one basket, but that it’s important to be selective about the basket.

Quite a journey.  At its completion, we were both sated, filled, changed.

So yes.  The breakup was conscious. Tantric.  “What if we take all of our sexual energy, our lower chakra connections, and bring it up into our hearts,” he suggested.

“And what if we take all of our shared consciousness, the psychic moments where we know what each other is doing, and bring that down into our hearts.  So going forward, we feel like dear friends and not exes,” I said.

“Perfect,” he said.  We were so aligned.

We sat there on the phone together and did it, brought the energy into our hearts.  I felt nothing but love for him.  So much love that I was tempted to not break up.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too.”

Our Divine journey was finished. I was grateful that we had seen it coming—we had seen it coming because of the clarity we embodied.  We had seen it coming, so our journey could exist forever in its pristine state: we had never had a fight, rarely a disagreement, there was no blame to assign, there was nothing either of us had “done.” We were just done.

We were happily, beautifully, complete. And yes, there was a part of me that wanted to get naked with him, right then, to celebrate—and I think that pretty much sums up why Tantra is the perfect spiritual path for me.

In retrospect, beyond our Divine journey, what I have to celebrate is this: you too can do it a whole new way. You can love and be loved, without having it have to be about anything but love. You can come together consciously and exit consciously—or not exit at all, and just stay conscious. You can call in the partner of your dreams, and they can be better than you’ve ever dreamed. You can live in Love. You can choose the most blissful spiritual growth path imaginable—sex!, and Let Love Rule. We do not need to live within an old paradigm that was designed by people who were not as enlightened as we now are. We can design a unique New Paradigm that feeds and sustains our bodies, minds, and spirits. Now is the time.

 

By Caroline Muir

India TantraIncense fills the air in my home as I await the new clients coming in an hour. The curt and brief email indicated ‘my husband and me’ would like to see you. Arrangements were made and the time was set for Saturday morning.

I gazed at two faces I had never seen, but whose names I had become familiar with through emails and the phone calls that Shanti and I exchanged, discussing the details of their visit. She has been with her husband (the marriage arranged in India) for 22 years, and their two teen-age children asked curiously, “Where are you going, Mama?”

The faces gazing at me as I opened the front door were classic to the Indian culture… big almond eyes, beautiful smiles, small stature, well dressed, eager and open. I welcomed them into my office, where we sat on fuchsia silk cushions to discuss the upcoming session, bowing easily in Namaste, as is their custom (and mine also, by the way).

Shanti expressed in her lovely, accented voice that she has always ‘known’ about Tantra Yoga, but never felt she had found the right teacher … not in her native India, nor in the U.S. where they had lived for thirty years.

“I have combed the internet looking for Tantra teachers, but when I Googled and found Divine Feminine Awakening, Caroline, I knew immediately that my teacher would be you.” It always amazes me how women, especially, know from their feeling-place what or who is next. Her search was for an initiation into and with Divine Mother, and I was close enough to her vision that she chose me to bring this union to her.

Shanti has never been with anyone except for her family and her husband, a gentle, intelligent and lovely man. He stood close by her as I left the room for her to undress and put on one of my silk ceremonial robes.  When I returned she was under the sheets on my warm and cozy massage table. All I could see were huge deep eyes, full beautiful lips, and a head flowing with dark silky hair. Her eyes looked up at me in anticipation of this … her long-awaited Initiation into the sisterhood of the divine feminine.

I gazed long and easily with Shanti, my hands softly resting on her heart and belly through the covers that protected her privacy. I moved my upper hand to her brow center, and guided her into her breath, her chakra centers, the sounds of OM and AH, all familiar to her from the Indian culture. Her beloved stood respectfully apart, yet near.  Instinct told me to explain that I would now join her on the table and drape her legs over my lap so that my hands could contact her pubic mound and her heart. She trembled slightly, though her eyes told me she was ready to step through her fear and into the enlightened space of having arrived at her desired destination.

In the fullness of time and with her permission, I slowly entered her and rested my fingers softly onto her sacred spot. Almost immediately she went into process as her lovely face drew up into the pre-tears that would soon fall from her eyes. Many moments passed as she recalled, felt, and accessed what she had longed for her whole life. She wailed “my sisters in India all need this so badly … they are all subservient and afraid to stand tall in their power.”

“Blessings to you Shanti and to all of your sisters in India. The old ways are dying and the power of your passion is here to stay!” I exclaimed.  She nodded but could not speak, and through our gaze I felt the transmission to all women who have been kept small because their culture said “This is how it is!”

I gazed over at her beloved, and his teary eyes gazed back at me as he nodded his support for his wife. We later moved back to sit again on our silk cushions and joined hands. Silence is natural to those who meditate and we lowered our eyes for a long period of integration.

As we bowed in Namaste, Shanti asked if they could stop by on Sunday before driving home so that “…you would please bless our children, Caroline.” “Of course, Shanti, that would be my pleasure”… and it surely was.

Reflecting on the session in the altered state that followed, I realized that the magic of this experience was that a blue-eyed Kansas girl was the messenger of the essence of Tantra Yoga to these beautiful Indian people, a gift to so many of us from their culture.

Om Shanti… Shanti… Shanti…

I welcome your comments below … how do you feel after reading this true story?

by Caroline Muir

There is a new paradigm growing rapidly in today’s culture based on the sexual healing work of Tantra Yoga. As a Senior Educator of Tantra Yoga, I am passionate about re-writing the old way of thinking about our bodies and how we use them in sensual/sexual union with ourselves or with another. Lack of education is still the greatest cause of unconscious sex and lack of orgasmic power.

Women in roses. Cropped image of young women covered with rose pWhere are we going in our journey from human to divine? Where is the overlap and how they can co-exist? God is in our genitals. The divine spark lives in every cell of our being… yes, even “down there!”

Do you feel separated from your soul and spirit as you seek pleasure and fulfillment? Does your sexual center ever feel cared for or safely held? Is tenderness and nurturing part of your “agenda” for the parts of your body that are primarily thought of as centers for elimination and occasionally, sex?

My vision for the enlightened culture of the future is now clearly unfolding for me and many others who study and practice the Tantric Arts… The Yoga of Love. Intimacy is the biggest missing piece for most people when they choose to “have sex.”

Pleasure is a powerful human need, and yet we often settle for just enough pleasure to give our body the message that we are still alive.

two funny robots making loveEcstatic pleasure is essential for the survival of the human race. Machines, robots, computers… they are all becoming so advanced that they will soon rival the human brain. But as many of us know, we are so much more than our brain. We are flesh and bone, fluids and feelings, emotional or static in our physical response to daily life. Aliveness fuels the brain with substances that defy science, though many try to measure and footnote how these substances add to mental and physical health and activity.

Without pleasure we may as well wear stainless steel skin. There is an intense need within the human spirit to be ALL we can be. What I have seen is that sexual healing (I also call this The Nurturing Practice of AH) is a rewiring and a remapping of the hidden, private and unrevealed message contained within the genital region. In this space where interconnectedness is incomplete, there is truly an opportunity to cultivate our birthright of wholeness.

Please join Nevada anytime for a private 3-Day Intensive where I can teach you these arts in person. I welcome your comments below!

Woman in robe flipped

By Caroline Muir

There isn’t a female libido pill as yet on the market. Ever wondered why?

Female arousal is a complex affair, perhaps more complex than an actual ‘affair’! It is so complex that I can only refer you to the best information I have ever read to explain the intricacies involved in female arousal: Vagina, a book by Naomi Wolf. I am privileged to have had my classes with women written about in twelve pages of this masterpiece of research.

A couple that I am counseling touched my heart deeply as I felt into their pain resulting from the fact that she doesn’t want to “have” to have sex any longer with her husband, at least for now. Their sexual loving is not painful or aggressive. She loves him and he loves her. She just doesn’t want to! Josh sits before me in shock and grief as this is his primary way to feel union with his beloved Heather… or as he describes it he is “a thirsty man desiring water… hungry for intimacy with his wife.”

Upset older couple roundHe remembers the last time they made love. He admits they were just going through the motions… that it wasn’t a thoughtful joining as they had been learning from me; the principles of Tantra and the yoga of intimacy. She really does not know why this is her truth and how she feels at this time. 

The sadness I feel and see in them is reminiscent of a lost and lonely place. As a woman, I do not find her wrong or broken or in any way ‘a mess.’ She is a wise and compassionate therapist, successful in her world. She “just doesn’t want to”! Sex for Heather is no longer fulfilling.

Yet she grieves his sorrow. She gives him freedom to explore… to continue living ‘as a man’ with others. That of course leads to talks about separate living and the myriad of painful situations that include grown children, friendships and family, pets and the daily playing of music that they share. He grimaces at this gift of freedom… he only wants his wife. I know this parting of physical/sensual/sexual ways is common to long relationships and marriages. I reach into my fifty years of living in relationships for words of wisdom.

Older Couple playing chess crop roundI suggest dropping deeper into friendship with one another, something they both feel is uppermost in their marriage and relationship. I suggest “Let It Be” as John Lennon sang to us as we were all reaching for the light of understanding.

I suggest a “sabbatical” from their sexual marriage, while deepening their intimacy and friendship with one another and their families. I invited Heather to do a Ritual of Completion with me or with her women’s group, in an invitation to “lay to rest” her duty as a wife. It’s very possible that in dropping the inherited duty of a wife, she might very well find her sensual joy in the freedom to say no!

Josh now has the opportunity to choose Heather for the warm and wonderful companion whom he has grown to treasure over twenty years. There is a heavy “should” in how a marriage is supposed to look in the sexual arena, and women often struggle with these libido changes as they age. It appears that we need to claim our autonomy from the marriage identity, often without wanting to lose the marriage, while hoping to find a new level of desire based on loving friendship and freedom rather than the duties of marriage.

Couple with baggage clear

Marital Baggage can be quite heavy. In the pure union of lover and beloved, this conflict isn’t meant to be heavy. In an ideal world we would want to make love as a celebration of our love. Yet libido for both men and women alters from the natural flow of desire that we knew when we were younger. The best antidote for a lazy libido is to simply… play!

Easier said than done? “Seriousness is an adult disease” and Sex is serious business. How about this instead: Play with one another…  play with yourself… play with your children… learn from the kids and pets about ‘play’ and bring that Quality of Play to your lover. Let go of goals, orgasms and performance. They are the biggest blocks to play!

I would love to hear from you! Please comment and add both your serious and your playful thoughts.

By Irene

When you hear the word “Tantra of Intimacy,” what’s the first thing that comes into your mind? Sex, postures, or even Kama Sutra? There are a lot of myths and misconceptions about both words, especially in our Asian cultures. One need only google the words and figure it out yourself without daring to ask for more! Even if we do dare to ask, the next question is who are we going to ask? That’s what I did when my cousin in London mentioned Tantric Yoga to me. There is not much you can find about it online, not nearly enough be able to understand much about it.

CollageThen I came across an upcoming retreat in Bali that called “Tantra & Yoga of Intimacy: Sensual Awakening, Healing & Enlivening” with Blue and Caroline Muir, in November, 2013. I emailed Blue (Spirituality and Yoga of Intimacy Guru, a wonderful man whom I trust and admire so much) and asked about the retreat. He sent me information about what the retreat was about and what we will gain from it. He also gave me this: Intimacy Is love infused with connection, generosity, attentiveness, presence, trust, surrender and the courage to be seen and be vulnerable. Intimacy is a choice. Sensuality is an excitement or enlivening of the primary senses of the human body. When enlivened, sensuality becomes a flow of life inside and around you. Sensuality is natural.  

Ahhhhhhhhhh………….what a journey Bali has been for me, meeting Caroline and Blue and connecting with our wonderful group of people… so powerful and authentic! Words cannot express how grateful I am to have made this choice to embark upon this road. I am also very thankful to have met Caroline and Blue, and for them to have given me the chance to walk onto this road of unknown… to face my fear, to find my lost heart and love, and to learn from two wonderful, warm and gorgeous people the art of tantra and the world of intimacy in the most respectful, loving, nurturing and warmest ways.

Vulnerability and trust are the two most guarded things in ourselves that we don’t want to let go or let down. I constantly reminded myself throughout myIrene seven days there, “I’m here for a good reason… and I need to open to the learning, receiving and healing that will come my way.” I’m glad I did. It was totally amazing for me to have been in the presence of people who came with open hearts and trust. There was so much openness, vulnerability and love among every one of us there, that all of us still are very much affected from our retreat even after two weeks have passed.

Towards the end of my week which I was wishing lasted longer, I have learnt to develop a sexual connection with my partner that not only feeds his heart but also my heart, body and life with aliveness. The work helped me to unlock my full potential as a partner and lover; released the energies inside me that have blocked my full capacity of feeling beautiful; and I have learnt to love and also to receive love in a truly loving and intimate ways with full aliveness and openness. We learnt the art of giving to and receiving from our partner in a most nurturing, loving, warm and beautiful way where towards the end of each session, all of us felt all our chakras touched, opened and shining bigger than we normally experience. Like Caroline said, “We raised the bar on your life experiences. We expanded into the vast heart of love and intimacy that we call Tantra, and this is the power of creating sacred space, alignment with yoga and union with the divine.” Thanks to them, I am still walking around with a glow in my face and heart every day!

Thank you!

Bali motorcycle