a kind of death

May 18, 2019

When you are making love don’t control. Go into uncontrol, go into chaos. It will be fearful, frightening, because it will be a kind of death. And the mind will say “Control!” And the mind will say, “Jump in and keep control, otherwise you will be lost in the abyss of it.” Don’t listen to the mind, get lost. Abandon yourself utterly and without any technique you will come to see a timeless experience. There will be no two in it: oneness. A consciousness will be there, a lucid passive consciousness will be there, you will know what is happening because you will be fully aware. But you will not be there; awareness will be there.

You have to imbibe the Tantra spirit – it is not a technique to be learned.

This Very Body the Buddha, Vol. 1, Talk #8


January 19, 2019

I would freaking love to do porn now. I’m more comfortable and more happy with my body than I have been in a very long time. And I would love to share that… for my own exhibitionistic pleasure, and for the sake of others. There aren’t a lot of role models for women of my age — I’m turning 50 at the end of this year — being openly and brazenly sexual, being comfortable and happy with their bodies and their sexualities and proudly celebrating them. I would love to be one of those role models. If I was ever going to do porn or nude pictures, now would be the time.

And I just don’t think I can. Not if I want to be taken seriously as a writer.

This really pisses me off. It pisses me off that, in order to be taken seriously as a female intellectual voice, I have to hold back my sexuality. Especially since it’s such a no-win situation. Women who are too sexual aren’t taken seriously, and women who aren’t sexual enough aren’t taken seriously. Women who are conventionally attractive get valued solely for their sexual appeal; women who aren’t conventionally attractive get dismissed for their lack of it. Women who are conventionally attractive are assumed to be dumb bimbos; women who aren’t conventionally attractive are assumed to be either bitter or desperate. Women who are conventionally attractive get trivialized; women who aren’t conventionally attractive get treated with pity and contempt. We can’t win.

Greta Christina
Why I probably won’t do Porn again


December 8, 2018

Eroticism is, above all else, exclusively human: it is sexuality socialized and transfigured by the imagination and the will of human beings. The first thing that distinguishes eroticism from sexuality is the infinite variety of forms in which it manifests itself. eroticism is invention, constant variation, sex is always the same.

Octavio Paz
The Double Flame: Love and Eroticism

When I Was Straight

June 16, 2018

I did not love women as I do now.
I loved them with my eyes closed, my back turned.
I loved them silent, & startled, & shy.

The world was a dreamless slumber party,
sleeping bags like straitjackets spread out on
the living room floor, my face pressed into a

slender pillow.

All night I woke to rain on the strangers’ windows.
No one remembered to leave a light on in the hall.
Someone’s father seemed always to be shaving.

When I stood up, I tried to tiptoe
around the sleeping bodies, their long hair
speckled with confetti, their faces blanched by the

porch-light moon.

I never knew exactly where the bathroom was.
I tried to wake the host girl to ask her, but she was
only one adrift in that sea of bodies. I was ashamed

to say they all looked the same to me, beautiful &
untouchable as stars. It would be years before
I learned to find anyone in the sumptuous,

terrifying dark.

Julie Marie Wade

cosmic orgasm

April 29, 2018

an orgasm

When the library of yourselves was torn from the shelves and scattered, and the DNA was split so that there were only two strands left with very little data and very little memory, sexuality was left intact in the physical body. It was left as a form of reproduction, of course-as a form for the species to stay in touch with its own essence and bring itself into life. Very deep inside the mechanism of sexuality is a frequency that can be attained that has been sought after and misunderstood by many people. It is called orgasm.

The orgasm has been distorted from its original purpose. Your body has forgotten the cosmic orgasm of which it is capable because society has taught you for thousands and thousands of years that sexuality is bad. You have been taught this in order for you to be controlled and to keep you from seeking the freedom available through sexuality. Sexuality connects you with a frequency of ecstasy, which connects you back to your divine source and to information.

Sexuality has been given a bad name upon this planet, and that bad name is stored in your cellular memory. This is not just from this lifetime; it is from thousands of years of misappropriation and misuse. It is necessary for you to clear the negativity surrounding sexuality from this lifetime, as well as to experience and examine how you utilize sexual energy and sexual expression in your multidimensional selves.

The sexual parts of the body are avenues to pleasure that create frequencies that heal and stimulate the body and potentially lead it to its higher spiritual self. Sexuality is so misunderstood on this planet that, when it is exchanged between two persons, very seldom is there an intent to connect spirituality with it. Sexuality invokes a spirituality that is free and that looks at itself as a creator. However, very seldom is sexuality used as a bridge to take you to higher levels of consciousness.

Barbara Marciniak
Bringers of the Dawn

Exploring the “shadow” within ourselves is not a “bad” thing, nor is it something to be feared or condemned. It is simply an opportunity to experience the polarity of the light. The Dark Mother is calling us to witness her death and destruction at the hands of the tyrant. We are a microcosm within a macrocosm. By taking such paths and finding where they lead, we can better walk the 180 degrees around the circle and reemerge into the daylight. The return of Quetzalcoatl, the winged serpent who unites the power of sexuality with the purity of spirit, taking both to a higher level, is eminent. By “becoming” our dominating parents, we can understand, forgive, and heal their behaviours so that we do not perpetrate “insanity” on the next generation. We see the light only because we experience darkness. The cycle is endless as is the Great Mother in her many guises and rotations. It is up to us to find the balance point, to seek to raise conscious awareness, to find and found a new Earth-centred religion that seeks to honour the Great Mother in all her forms and guises, to honour the feminine and, most of all, to reclaim our sacred sexuality. It is time to reinstate the sacred “prostitute” to a place of honour, for through her we reach the Goddess within ourselves, a Goddess who exists within men as well as women.

Aryll Argon
She’s Back
The Beltane Papers winter 2009/2010

Shadow qualities are met with intense criticism and judgement as they are projected onto others. The presence of this judgment is our clue to the shadow as a rejected self. If sexuality is a rejected self, then overt sexuality in others will produce a highly charged negative reaction (much like what we see in some religious sects fixated on the sexual behaviour of others). If anger is a rejected self, we will fear and criticize it in others. If we suppress our emotions, we will have little tolerance for those who are needy, crying, or strongly expressive. It makes us very uncomfortable to be around someone expressing our shadow energies. Our judgment is an attempt to negate the source of our discomfort.

Anodea Judith
Eastern Body, Western Mind

23rd August


A world of words arriving in my head like fragments of burning shrapnel. It is too much, at times – more than this poor soul can stand.

My sister on the telephone, Monday afternoon. She has quit her job. She is depressed because of her outstanding credit card bill, which she had hoped to clear before parting company with her present employer. This call was soon followed by another from my ancient aunt who wants only to discuss my moral transgressions, or so it seems. She, apparently, has seen Peedeel’s blog.

‘Filth,’ she declares. She promulgates such tedious opinions with ease. ‘The ungoverned libido,’ says she, ‘is bound to have a wrecking influence – ’

But that’s exactly the point of the blog: to challenge moral complacency. ‘And, anyway, auntie, things sexual by nature only appear at weekends, as a general rule. A time when most people are either partying or fornicating – not reading blogs! The remainder of the week, I’m hoping to introduce readers to new poets or new ideas. Culture – ’

The old lady gleefully paraphrases my life story from my disastrous first marriage through to my current ménage. She takes such delight in sleazy detail. Could there exist an element of jealousy in her recriminations? I can only quote Larkin in response:

“the wonderful feel of girls” is to blame –

‘It strikes me that you are easily propelled into stupidity by the passing of time, Peedeel – ’

And, yes, she is probably correct.


To the ancient Roman’s the hare was a symbol of fertility, abundance, sexuality, lust and excess.

In their myths and folktales the Celts believed the hare had links to the ‘Otherworld’, that mysterious place of spirit and the supernatural. They believed that the Goddess Eostre’s favourite animal and attendant spirit was the hare.

The girls have sown an image of a hare on my fancy-dress party outfit. Do they dedicate me to Eostre or to lust and excess?


I really do feel in need of a break. I’ve suggested a weekend away. The Gloucestershire village of Wotton-under-Edge springs to mind. The girls have never heard of the place. But the Ram Inn is considered Britain’s most haunted hotel! It’s closed as an Inn, but on occasion the owners give guided tours –

Oh, to walk those wonky floors, those steep narrow staircases, the bewildering, shadow-filled passageways, to look out of the cobwebby windows, watched over by the unseen residents! It is a possibility devoutly to be wished for.

We will see.

I was probably about 11 or 12 when I first saw a picture of Pan, and I was mesmerized by this half goat, half man god. He came to represent all that I searched for in the magical mysteries of “the Pagan”, all that I swore ran through my blood and my pre-teen sexuality, as it led down into adolescence. Any depiction of a satyr in a museum would become an icon and a little place of pilgrimage for me.

In esoteric hearsay, stories of Pan’s invocation were accompanied with cautionary tales, supposed immorality, foolhardiness, and magicians left gibbering and naked in the morning. I wonder if that still gets trotted out nowadays? I didn’t really consider Pan in quite that light, he was my favourite after all, but there was a coldness and a darkness that could accompany the goat foot god, both a loneliness and its answer, along with experiences which might get stereotyped as “enchanting” and “ecstatic”. For one period of time in my twenties I would get hurled out of sleep, like out of deep water, in a state of terror. My sister swore, years later, that she had once awoken to hear a large animal on the landing outside our bedrooms, breathing heavily in the middle of the night. It was quite an extreme time in some ways, though very creative.

Mo (aka CredenceDawg)
Hymn to an Outsider


When I was researching Witches fifteen years ago, it was considered rather kinky to talk about the female aspects of divinity or to attempt to rehabilitate witches from the libels perpetrated on them by their inquisitors. Witchcraft was a bog of myth, misinformation and Halloween gear. There were people who called themselves contemporary witches or Wiccans — and I met plenty of them — but they seem as confused about their origins as anyone else. Some called themselves goddess — worshippers or contemporary pagans. Some were feminists rediscovering the female roots of divinity, and their rituals were as muddled as they were sincere. Nobody could quite decide whether to be a white witch and do good with herbs or — more exciting — to be a bad witch and go to bed with devils.

The popular image of the witch reflected this confusion. There were both good and bad witches in picaresque movies like The Wizard of Oz, and only bad witches in scary movies like Rosemary’s Baby. Did witches worship Satan or did they worship a benevolent mother goddess? Hardly anyone would have posed the question that way. It fell to this book to put the question to a popular readership for the first time — and that has been a large part of its appeal.

The truth is that the witch is a descendant of ancient goddesses who embodied both birth and death, nurturing and destruction, so it is not surprising that she has both aspects. But when religions decay and gods are replaced, there is a consistent dynamic: the gods of the old religion inevitably become the devils of the new. If serpents were once worshipped as symbols of magic power, they will later be despised as symbols of evil. If women were once seen as all-powerful, they will become relegated to obedience to men and feeling pain in childbirth. The symbols remain but their values are reversed. The snake in Genesis is now the devil. The first female, Eve, has gone from being a life-giver to a death-bringer. Good and evil are reversed. This is the way the politics of religion work.

The contemporary image of the witch incorporates detritus from many religious sects over many millennia. Like the wall of a Crusader castle in the Middle East, it rests upon a foundation of remnants from a variety of periods. Like Hecate and Diana, the witch is associated with the moon and lunar power. Like Aphrodite and Venus, she can make love potions and fly through the air. Each attribute of the witch once belonged to a goddess.

All over the ancient world goddesses were worshipped. These goddesses represented womanhood distilled to its ultimate essence. Ishtar, Astoreth, Aphrodite (as she was eventually known) held sway over love, procreation, fecundity — and most of the gods obeyed her urgings. Many-breasted, in love with flowers, wheat, all blossoming, she echoed something primal in the human heart. Born of woman ourselves, we find godhead natural in womanhood. Any faith that renounces the mother is bound to see her creep back in another form-as Mary perhaps, the mother of the sacrificed god.

Witchcraft in Europe and America is essentially this harkening back to female divinity within a patriarchal culture. If you insist long enough that God is the father, a nostalgia for the mother-goddess will be born. If you exclude women from church-rites, they will practice their magic in the fields, in forests, in their own kitchens. The point is, female power cannot be suppressed; it can only be driven underground.

Take a little honey in a jar. Write your deepest wish on a bit of brown paper and hide it in the honey. Focus all your energy on your intention (which must be sweet) and eventually your wish will be granted. Intention counts for everything. It must be positive. And the more witches there are sitting in a circle practicing communal intention, the more potency the magic will have. The desire for magic cannot be eradicated. Even the most supposedly rational people attempt to practice magic in love and war. We simultaneously possess the most primitive of brainstems and the most sophisticated of cortexes. The imperatives of each coexist uneasily.

We may even prefer to see the witch as an outsider, a practitioner of the forbidden arts because that makes her even more powerful. Perhaps we are slightly ashamed of our wish to control others and would rather pay a maker of magic than confess to these wishes ourselves. Perhaps we would rather not be in charge of magic that might backfire.

Since we believe witches can make wishes real, we both need and fear them. If they have the power to kill our enemies, couldn’t they also kill us? If they have the power to grant love, couldn’t they also snatch it away? Witches remind us of the darkness of human wishes. That is why we periodically find reasons to burn them.

In The White Goddess, Robert Graves asserts that all real poetry is an invocation of the triple goddess of antiquity — she who controls birth, death, procreation — and that it is the poet’s fealty to her that determines the authenticity of his work. “The main theme of poetry” Graves says, “is the relations of man and woman, rather than those of man and man, as the Apollonian classicists would have it.” The male poet woos the goddess with words in order to partake of her magic. He is at once her supplicant and her priest. Where does this leave the female poet? She must become an incarnation of the triple goddess herself, incorporating all her aspects, creative and destructive. This is why it is so dangerous to be a female poet. It is a little like being a witch.

Adelaide Crapsey’s poem “The Witch,” evokes this well:

When I was a girl by Nilus stream
I watched the desert stars arise;
My lover, he who dreamed the Sphinx,
learned all his dreaming from my eyes.
I bore in Greece a burning name,
And I have been in Italy
Madonna to a painter-lad,
And mistress to a Medici.
And have you heard (and I have heard)
Of puzzled men with decorous mein.
Who judged–the wench knows far too much-
And hanged her on the Salem green.

Adolescence is a time when witchcraft exercises a great fascination. Disempowered by society and overwhelmed with physical changes, teenage girls fall in love with the idea of forming covens. Whatever bric-a-brac of magic is around, they will pick up and shape to their own uses.

This book has made me a heroine to my friends’ daughters. It has also been the most banned of all my books — probably because the idea of female godhood is still anathema to many people. Once, I received a Polaroid picture of this book showing it burned around the edges. The letter accompanying it said: “My father burned this book. Could you send me another copy?” So much for the efficacy of censorship.

The more disempowered people are, the more they long for magic, which explains why magic becomes the province of women in a sexist society. And what are most spells about? Usually procuring love, with the hexing of enemies running a close second. When men turn to magic, they are more likely to seek knowledge and power (Dr. Faustus), or immortality (Walt Disney). The men who spend fortunes to assure that their corpses will be frozen are not likely to be attracted to love spells. Their love is self-love. They want their own DNA to endure singly, not to commingle with a lover’s.

So witchcraft remains a woman’s obsession. John Updike captured the nature of the beast in his novel The Witches of Eastwick. Disempowered women use their coven to become the secret legislators of their little town. Their magic cannot be separated from their sexuality. That is, of course, the point.

Erica Jong